My eyes fly up and immediately I realize that Nate is standing before me.
“I…I…” I stammer. His pupils dilate as he stares at me in amusement. I let my gaze fall down his body. He's naked but for a pair of pale blue boxers. Good lord, his body is ridiculous. The line down between his six-pack looks like it was etched in stone. It's suddenly very difficult to breathe.
“See anything you like?” he asks drily. I snap my gaze back up. A brown curl of hair hangs just over one of his eyes. I clear my throat as I try to think of something to say. I feel his eyes travelling over my body, my skin burning under his gaze as desire begins to pool in my stomach.
“Oh, no, I was—”
“You wanna join us?” he says, pulling the door open a little more. I glance over his shoulder and see a naked girl in bed covered in rumpled sheets.
“Nate!” the girl says with a giggle, and pulls a sheet up over her breasts.
“Come on. If I weren't already naked, I'd say you were undressing me with your eyes,” he says smugly to me. I feel my cheeks turn scarlet.
“No, sorry,” I murmur, averting my eyes and rushing down the hall to the stairs as I hear the girl dissolve into laughter behind me. I run straight out of the front door and down the front steps before stopping on the sidewalk to process what’s just happened.
Ugh, I'm such an idiot. I raise my hand to my mouth and wipe the back of my palm across my lips, smearing off my lip gloss. I don't belong at parties like this, and I certainly don't belong with Nate Thornhill. I've never been so embarrassed in my life…and how arrogant, asking me to join him and that girl as though I actually would?
Hot tears build up behind my eyes and threaten to spill over. I had such high hopes for tonight, such high hopes for him. And he ended up being so gross.
I pull my phone out of my wristlet and shoot off a quick text to Cara: Hey, just got a terrible headache. Headed back to my dorm. See you later!
I head back across campus and to the safety of my dorm room. My phone buzzes and I pull it back out to see her response: Feel better!
I envy Cara. Everything seems to come so easy to her. She can fit in anywhere, make friends with anyone. I guess I'm just not that kind of person, much as I'd like to be.
CHAPTER THREE
The words are a blur on the page in front of me. I rub my eyes. I didn't sleep well last night, and now I can't concentrate on my notes. We have a few days off at the beginning of the week to study, and then final exams. I can't let myself slip just because I got a Lawn Room, but the events of last night are distracting me and studying right now is nearly impossible.
My phone rings on the desk next to me.
“Hey, Mom!” I say as I pick up.
“Hey, honey! I just saw you called me a bunch yesterday! I'm sorry. I was out with Pierce.” Her melodic voice sounds a little breathless, as it always does when she talks about this new boyfriend.
“Well, I have some good news.”
“Me, too!” she replies.
“Oh! Um, do you want to go first?”
“Actually, I'm going to be in town tonight. Pierce and I were hoping to have dinner with you.”
“You're in town?! That’s great news.”
She laughs. “No, that's not the news! Do you want to wait to tell me your news until then?”
“Um, sure. Why not? Everything's OK, though, right?”
“Everything's great! We have a reservation for 7 o'clock at Decanter. Should we pick you up?”
“No, that's OK. It's just a short walk from campus.”
“Wonderful! Oh, I'm so excited to see you!” she says.
“Me too!”
I shut my phone feeling dumbfounded. Now I'm really not going to be able to study. My mom's never surprised me like this before. I frown. Could she and Pierce be engaged, and she wants to tell me in person? I guess I'd be happy for her, but I've never met this guy before. What if he's just one more jerk in the long line of lowlifes that she seems to attract?
My mom is so gorgeous and always loved the attention her looks brought her, but her vanity has always worried me. Men are so willing to do everything for her, but they never seem to be the right kind of men. Regardless of their character, she’s always had a constant stream of admirers, and has never had to do anything for herself. She doesn’t know who she is or how to be alone.
When I came along, my dad showed his true colors and abandoned us, and she had no skills to fall back on as a twenty-two year-old single mother. I always promised myself that I wouldn’t let myself depend on a man like her. I had to make sure I could make my own way in the world, which is probably why I've had my nose in a book my whole life.
After several more hours of fruitless study, I decide to get ready a little early so that I can take a walk around campus before I meet my mom and her new boyfriend. I put on a cotton summer dress and grab a cardigan in case the restaurant is chilly.
I start to feel a little calmer when I reach the lawn and see the Rotunda's white dome in front of me. The architecture always inspires me, and next year I'll actually be living here. I stand in front of the women's side of the Lawn—genders are separated—and wonder which room will be mine.
My mind drifts back unbidden to last night. I so hoped to be able to expand my horizons a little. As wonderful as I know getting a Lawn room is, it's not everything.
The way Nate's body looked in the low light from the hall…the small tuft of hair that showed just above his boxers…the way he looked at me. I realize I’m tugging at my braid absent-mindedly, and shake my head at myself—I need to get it together. It's time to meet my mom and her new boyfriend, and hear their big news.
I glance around as I enter Decanter. Its architecture is modern and elegant, a mix of cream fabrics and dark wood. I've never been here before—way out of my price range. I'm about to approach the hostess when I recognize my mom in a prime booth in the corner. I walk toward her between a row of tables, hearing the hushed tones of conversation and the clinking of wine glasses around me.
Her eyes light up and she stands as she sees me approaching. She looks even more gorgeous than usual. Her blonde hair, a little lighter than mine, hangs in a long bob almost to her shoulders, and her perfect teeth show brightly behind her deep red lipstick.
“Brynn! I've missed you, honey,” she says, enveloping me in a hug. “You look gorgeous. Isn't this dress a little big for you, though?” she asks, pulling at the extra fabric.
“You know I like this kind of fit,” I reply, allowing only the slightest bit of impatience to enter my voice. This is a recurring conversation with us. She always wants me to dress a little more feminine, a little more “form-flattering” as she puts it.