by Leanne Davis
She rolled her eyes. “Nothing is wrong with me. It’s called college, Liv. We’re supposed to live a little. Try new things. Break away from the good, perfect, little girls we used to be. Aren’t you tired of it by now?”
“I am trying new things. You have to leave the dorm room for that to happen. And while you were sleeping, I met a hot guy.”
Kylie got up and ran her hands through her slicked back bangs. “Did you run the other way?”
Olivia stuck her tongue out. “Why are you being such a bitch today? What did I do to you?”
“Well, you usually run the opposite direction when anyone with a dick comes near you. Or stammer something stupid before freezing up.”
“I did neither.”
“Band geek?”
She stiffened. Kylie never stopped insulting how she chose to spend the majority of her time. “No. Well, I don’t think so. I don’t know anything about him. Other than he’s hot. Very, very hot.”
“Don’t do this, Liv. Don’t be your normal self. We’re only a week into school. Trust me, you didn’t find your soul mate. There are dozens, no, hundreds of hot, available guys around here. You don’t have to settle for one. Or start pining for this one. You’ll meet a lot more. So just… go screw him. Or not. But don’t talk like we’re little girls in middle school, and our crush just said hi to us today. Okay? You really need to get out more, and see a lot more guys.”
Olivia studied Kylie as she started gathering her things to go into the bathroom, hopefully, to shower off some of the makeup that still streaked her face. “Oh? Because that worked out so well for you last year?”
“I don’t want to talk about last year.”
“You don’t think it’s directly related to Vampire Kylie?”
“I think it’s none of your business, little cuz. Don’t try to read into things that you don’t know about.”
Olivia flipped around to ignore Kylie. She could be so cutting with her statements. She didn’t used to be. She used to be the sweetest person. They were best friends ever since her parents adopted her and introduced them to her as her cousins. From eight years old and on, it was her, Kylie and her sister, Ally. Best Friends Forever. Except they were the real deal. Ally was a year older than Kylie, and two years older in school. She lived with other juniors in an apartment off campus.
She waited for the door to shut. But it didn’t. She turned around and Kylie was standing there, clutching her stuff. She dropped her things and stepped forward to hug Olivia against her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Any of it. I love you. I love everything about you. Don’t change. Don’t ever change, okay? And especially, never for some guy. No matter what.”
“Okay,” she whispered to Kylie’s strange, desperate tone. “BFFs forever, remember? Hot guys or not.”
“I always remember. Every day.” Kylie turned without another word and left. Olivia stared after her. She had a rough freshman year. Or at least, everyone surmised that because she changed mid-year and it happened almost overnight. She remained introspective for a few months, only to reemerge as this… angry, rebellious, and fierce girl. Kylie’s mom tried to pry out what happened, but Kylie would never really say, no matter who asked.
She shook off the latest encounter. Kylie was obviously rebelling and experimenting, which was fine, so long as she didn’t expect Olivia to do it with her. She wasn’t getting tattoos or dying her hair strange colors. Kylie recently started a huge tattoo on her lower back and every few months or so, she added more to it. It was a black line that looked like her back was cracking open. It was odd and strange, and big, which kind of described everything that Kylie was nowadays. Olivia wasn’t hooking up with random college boys, or girls, either. Kylie was experimenting in every facet of her personality. She had some chick in there over the weekend, and it wasn’t for a friendly session of girl-talk either.
Olivia wasn’t looking for that. She was here on a scholarship she cherished. It was, to date, her crowning accomplishment. She was so proud at being picked for her ability to play the flute. It made her feel a little guilty because her parents could afford to send her to college, but she was so honored by the scholarship, she intended to make sure she paid tribute to it. She grabbed her things and shut Kylie and the hot guy out of her mind. Placing the instrument to her lips, she soon forgot everything but how it felt to play as she lost herself in the soft, lilting notes she created.
****
He was there again. Her heart started racing and her hands began sweating when she entered the lecture hall. There sat Derek Salazar in the same seat as yesterday. He was slouched down with his head resting on his hand, and his elbow on the desktop. What should she do? Sit next to him? In front of him? Or just ignore him? She imagined Ally would go right up to him and start talking about something in her completely cute and charming manner. Kylie would just glare at him, and for some reason, it worked… with some guys. Her dark, quiet ways never showed if she was into a guy, or thinking about screwing the girl next to her, yet it still drew guys to her.
What should she do? Stare at him from a distance? Was she still afraid to even look at him? Probably. That’s what she usually did. She glanced down. She wore a pair of jeans with Kylie’s boots, which she borrowed. Her hair was straight down her back. She should have put nicer clothes on. Maybe some makeup. Why didn’t she follow the normal steps all teens girls did to attract men? Why didn’t she bother?
Still trying to figure out what to do with herself, Derek spotted her when he turned and caught her standing on the stairs. She was obviously contemplating how to approach him. He stood up with a nod and a wave and her heart nearly swelled. He seemed to want to see her. He indicated the seat next to him and she had to command her feet to walk, not run, towards him. She’d trip and do a face plant if she weren’t careful. She could not, however, play coy, or keep the smile of greeting from nearly cracking her face in half.
She slid into the seat and beamed up at him. Leaning down, she grabbed her notebook out of her book bag. “You got up this morning?”
His smile was enticing and soon had her heart squeezing in reaction. Her hand shook at his close proximity as he leaned near her face. “Didn’t want to miss seeing you.”
She looked up and her frown answered his raised eyebrow and wink. “Does that usually work?”
His smile lessened. “Uh, what?”
“The line? Does it usually work for you?”
His smile returned with full wattage. He didn’t need any lines. The smile was enough. “Yeah. It does. Is it working on you?”
“Are you trying for it to?”
“Only if you want it to.”
She rolled her eyes and crossed her legs. “I’m not interested in lines, Derek.”
His smile vanished and his gaze sharpened on her. “Didn’t think you’d be so out there saying so. Seems like you’d rather blush than admit there was something between us.”
“I don’t like to play games. I don’t like lines and I don’t like to pretend. So if you are glad to see me, say so. Don’t cover it up and treat me like some idiot you’re trying to hook up with for the night. Because you’re wasting your time if that’s what you’re hoping for with me.”
His dark eyes ran over the length of her. She fidgeted and wanted to cover her meager chest tightly with the sweatshirt she threw on over her t-shirt. She wanted to flip her hair over her face to hide, but she kept her face up and stared right at him. A slow smile teased his lips.
“Not an idiot, huh?”
“No. I’m not. I’m sure you gathered that already.”
He nodded. “I did. But I didn’t gather you’d be so forthright.” He tapped his finger on the desk and then nodded as if deciding something to himself. “Not expected. But I like it, Olivia Lindstrom. I like it a lot. What are you doing after class?”
“Math class. I told you that already.”
He chuckled and sat up straighter. “You don’t cut a guy an inch of slack, do you? So you di
d. And no hope of you skipping, right?”
“None.”
“How about after that? How about you meet for coffee with me?”
“You’d wait around for me to finish my class?”
“Yeah. What do you say?”
The professor walked in right then and started shuffling his papers at the front of the lecture hall. She expelled her breath and finally flipped her hair forward as she bent her head down to write the date on her notebook. She could finally smile with jubilation. Holy shit. Had she really handled him like that? So cool and straightforward? Sure, that was her personality, but usually not with guys. And never with a guy that she found so attractive.
He was a player. For some reason, she felt sure of it. He smiled and flirted with her way to easy. He spat out flattering lines far too confidently. He knew how to do it, and had no problem expressing his interest. She wasn’t now, nor would she ever be, a quick lay for any guy. No matter how hot. Or cute. Or sweet. Or badass. No matter how good their plays were, she wasn’t the girl that would ever fall for one of them.
Why was she bothering? She wasn’t intending to be one of his conquests, but didn’t think for a second she could change another person. Or make him better. That was for gullible, insecure girls who fell for vacuous, pretty lines. She might not have been a great flirt and a little awkward with guys sometimes, but she was definitely not insecure. Never. Not for one moment of her life. She knew you couldn’t change other people, especially not when sex was involved. Though Derek was pretty enough, she was sure many a girl had tried already. At age eighteen, how much sex could he possibly have had?
She peeked at him as the professor started his lecture. He was a huge distraction to her already. Maybe Kylie was right; she really needed to get a grip. She was only on her second week of school and there was no need to decide she already found someone. It was a stupid thing to worry about. She was here to get away from her parents and her former life. She was excited to be out on her own, and living with Kylie. But this was the first college guy to ask her out, and isn’t that just what Kylie said to do? Live a little?
She could however, have coffee with Derek Salazar.
She leaned over so her face was closer to Derek’s. “Okay, coffee, meet at eleven-thirty? The shop in the commons?”
He leaned closer and touched the back of her hand with his, and smiled when she physically reacted by leaning in. “Eleven-thirty it is.”
“Don’t forget,” she mumbled. “You stand me up once, it’s forever. That goes for lying and cheating too.”
He grinned. “Forever is a long time. You hold grudges, huh?” he whispered before straightening up and flashing his dazzling smile.
“Forever,” she hissed back. Facing forward, she started scribbling down what the professor was saying.
“What do you like?” he interrupted her briefly after a moment. What did she like? As in… what? As in sex?
“Coffee? What do you drink?”
So not sex. She hid her face so he didn’t see her blush. “Whatever. I’m not picky.”
He flashed his grin. “Love that already about you.”
****
She suffered through her math class. It was always her least favorite, but especially today when all she could do was count the minutes on the clock. Her toe tapped, her fingers drummed, and she was dying to go. She was also dying to run back to her dorm room and hover over the bed. She was not up for this. She wasn’t sophisticated enough to handle whatever Derek was planning to dish out. She had a feeling he would asked her back to his place today to hook up. Of course, she’d run the other way, while turning all kinds of colors and cowering on her bed in disappointment. Isn’t that how it usually went? College kids didn’t date. They weren’t seeking any long lost love. They just got laid.
She was so not cool. Kylie was right about that. She packed her stuff into her backpack and trudged across campus until she came to the commons. The ground was paved with bricks inscribed with past students’ names and their majors and graduation years. A giant clock tower stood watch over the entire courtyard and myriad small cafes and restaurants crowded the area.
She hiked her book bag higher on her shoulder and scanned the tables. Her stomach hurt. She should have run back to the dorm and put on something different. Something girlie. Something casual and hot. A tank top showing off her mid drift or something. Nothing like she usually wore.
Derek lifted a hand and waved her over. She slid into the seat across from him. He pushed a drink her way. “Cappuccino. My favorite. That work?”
She wrapped her hands around the warmth and nodded. The day was balmy, and the outdoor table gave them a view of students who were milling about, along with a bright blue sky overhead. She felt a knot in her throat. She couldn’t think of anything to say. Yet there was everything to learn about him still. Crap, why was she so lame? She couldn’t make her voice utter a single sound. She glanced up and saw Derek watching her, a smile lurking on the corners of his lips. He was amused by her. She felt sure of it.
“So… this flute thing, how long have you played?”
He wasn’t interested in the least. She was sure of that too. He was trying to get her to talk. She hunched her shoulders forward and crouched down in her seat. “It’s not what you’re thinking of. It’s not the flute you play in high school band.”
“You said you played it all four years of high school.”
“I did. But I also had private lessons. I started playing the traditional flute, the kind that you’d probably think of, and added the Irish flute a few years ago. That’s my favorite now, but the traditional is what I’m here for.”
“The what?”
“Ever hear of the Irish tin whistle?”
“Uh no. What is that?”
“Like Celtic music?”
“Okay, I guess I kind of know what you’re talking about. Not what I expected you to say. Are you Irish?”
She glanced down and traced the table where someone had carved his name. “My biological dad was. I got into it a few years ago. You know, looking for my roots and all. Typical adopted kid. Anyway, I stumbled on all this Celtic and Irish music and I loved it. So I wanted to learn how to play it. Since the first time I picked up an instrument in sixth grade band, I realized I have a pretty good ear for it. It comes fairly natural to me.”
Her gaze was rooted to the table, but she could physically feel his eyes on her and goose bumps rose on her skin. He was silent for a long moment before saying, “Not the usual, are you, Olivia?”
She shrugged. No, she wasn’t the usual. She wasn’t cool, therefore. She knew that. She knew what made her average and not the kind of girl boys wanted to hook up with.
“You’re adopted?”
“My dad died when I was a baby. I don’t remember him. My grandmother raised me until I was eight and then she died of cancer. My parents adopted me when that happened. They were there, as a matter of fact.”
His head jerked back. “I’m sorry. Are your parents people you knew then?”
“Gretchen was my therapist after my dad died. But she and my grandma became friends. She treated me like her own daughter. There’s never been much of a distinction for me. I picked out my dad pretty much. Luckily, Gretchen agreed and married him.”
“What?” his expression showed his puzzlement over her swiftly mumbled life story.
“Tony, my dad, wasn’t with Gretchen then. I liked him so I kind of attached myself to him. Anyway, it worked out when they fell in love and got married, just as my grandma died and Gretchen was adopting me.”
“That’s… not the story I expected to hear from you.”
She tilted her head. The bill of his hat covered his face, but he never took it off. Even in the lecture hall. That would have driven her dad crazy. He was ex-military and obsessed with being respectful. Derek’s sweatshirt was as casual as hers. Why did she worry so much about what she wore? He looked the same as she when he leaned back, and much more at ease; he ob
viously wasn’t worried if she were judging his shirt.
“Why would you expect any story from me? I mean, how could you even attempt to predict it? Everyone is different.”
He squinted his eye and finally nodded. “I guess you have a point. Stereotypes aren’t usually correct, are they?”
“No. They’re not.”
He regarded her for a long, pronounced moment. “So when do you play the flute? I mean, do you want to play it for a living? Not like a rock band now, is it?”
She flipped her hair, feeling hot and embarrassed. Why couldn’t she get a grip? “No. Last year, this group asked me to join them, and I did. It’s hard to explain. It’s not like sitting through a classical concert. There are three of us who play together. You might find it stupid. But it’s not.”
He leaned forward. “You play this Irish thing in a band? How is that even possible?”
“Wanna see?” she said while wishing she had just kept it easy and cool. She was not ready to bring up her odd way of spending her life. She dug her phone out and clicked on the link to one of their most popular songs, “My Heart Will Go On,” an older hit by Celine Dion. She chose it mostly because a tin whistle was used in the original recording and most people associated the instrument with that song.
She handed him her phone. He took it and set it on the table, staring at her for a moment before glancing down. The video was made on a cell phone so it was shaky and jerkily moved from Olivia to Larissa to Maggie and back. But the sound was right. Larissa’s violin started it, and Maggie joined in on the piano until Olivia blew the tin whistle and played for the next few minutes. She turned red and began staring hard at the tabletop. She let her hair fall down around her and listened to the familiar sounds. She knew exactly what he was seeing. Why? Why would she load the thing? Or show him? It was so stupid and so weird as a pastime for a freshman in college. She slouched forward, feeling totally humiliated. Finally, the music began to taper down after cresting before it stopped.
