“Cursed?” I ask, still slightly distracted over what happened with the sexy stranger. I already wish I could have a do-over, go back and say something. It’s been way, way too long since I flirted and I really do miss it.
“Yeah, with running into people.”
“Oh, yeah, right.” I barely comprehend what she said, my thoughts instead swirling over the guy, who he is, whether he’s a freshman, if he’s thinking about me like I’m completely obsessing over him.
I think about him a lot through freshman orientation, but unfortunately don’t see him again. Maybe it’s for the best. I’m still a little iffy on whether I’m ready to try dating again. Plus, I don’t know if this guy is available or even interested. He looked like he was interested, but I don’t know for sure.
Besides, the cast only came off weeks ago and the wounds and scars are still as fresh as the memory behind them.
Chapter 3
Greyson
I’ve always considered myself pretty lucky. I’ve had a good life, filled with mostly happy memories, and I have two of the most supportive parents. Still, I struggle with coming out of my shell. I’m not shy or anything, but I’m not the chattiest person, either. It makes it difficult to start freshman year at a college clear across the country from where I grew up, but after receiving a photography scholarship from the University of Wyoming, I decided to give a new location a try, embark on a new adventure.
After spending my first weekend cooped up in the one-bedroom apartment my parents helped me rent, I’ve started to question whether I made the right choice.
“You sound homesick, sweetie” my mother says over the phone. “Darn it. I’m not sure if I can think of anything you can take to cure it.”
I bite back a chuckle. My parents are very hippy-ish and my mother is a huge believer in herbal remedies. She’s a self-proclaimed artist/tarot card reader and my dad’s an herbalist. Their quirky, offbeat personalities have made my life interesting, to say the least.
“That’s okay.” I pull the tape off a box—I’m still working on unpacking. “I think I might need to cure this one all on my own.”
“Well, just don’t forget to smile,” she says. “A smile can fix so much.”
I unfold the top of the box. “I’m smiling right now. I swear.”
“Good. And if you need anything, you know you can call me. Day or night. I don’t want you getting lonely.”
“I’m fine. In fact, I’m getting ready to head off to my first class and I have a feeling I’m going to make some new friends there.”
“That’s so weird because I had a dream last night that you made three new friends today. One was in English class, so keep your eyes open.”
I shake my head as I wander back to my room to get dressed. “All right, Mom, I’ll make sure to keep a lookout.”
“Good. Call me tonight and let me know if I was right.”
“Sounds good.”
“And promise me you won’t go into your shell. I know you don’t mind being alone, but I don’t want you missing out on opportunities to make new friends and maybe date a little bit. You haven’t even mentioned a boy since Carter. I hope he didn’t break your heart.”
“He didn’t break my heart,” I assure her, which is the truth. My heart has never been broken because I’ve never been in love. When it comes to dating, I’ve been a casual fling kind of guy, something I never really thought much about until Carter broke things off because he said I was too closed off. It kind of opened my eyes to how my stoicism comes off, but breaking the habit hasn’t been easy and I’m still getting my footing. But it’s been so long since I’ve gotten any or even went out with anyone that I’m starting to get a little sexually frustrated. “And I promise I won’t go into my shell or whatever it is you called it.”
“Say it like you mean it,” she insists. “I want to hear the excitement in your voice.”
I pull open the dresser drawer and dig through my clothes for a shirt. “Okay! I promise!” I say with forced cheer as I roll my eyes. “There. Better?”
“Much better. I love you, sweetie.”
“Love you, too.”
I hang up and blow out a breath. While my mom has complete faith that her dream is going to come true, I’m skeptical she’s seen my future as she so often claims to do. Besides, I’m really nervous, which usually means I’ll come off awkward and unapproachable, the quiet, tortured artist who broods at the back of the class.
After I get dressed in a grey t-shirt and a dark pair of jeans, I slip on my black boots, grab my bag, and head out the door. The apartment I live in is a ways from the campus. I’m hoping by next semester I can find a closer place, but for now, I make do and use the five-mile walk as an excuse for exercise. On my way, I grab my camera from my bag and take snapshots of an awesome looking Victorian house and then a few streets where the blossom trees canopy over the asphalt. Back in Florida, we didn’t really have four seasons and I find it fascinating to watch the leaves falling from the trees. I walk by a few people who grab my attention, mainly because they either look intense, sad, or extremely happy, and I covertly take pictures of them as I pass. I have a thing with capturing emotion in my pictures and seek them out wherever I go.
By the time I reach the busy campus yard, I’ve probably taken at least a hundred pictures. Looking through the lens, I zoom around the grassy area just to the side of the university’s main building, looking for the perfect shot. Angling the camera at one of the benches where two people are sitting, I pause.
The guy and girl are huddled together, as if they’ve carved their own private world for each other. The guy says something, swinging his hands around animatedly, and the girl busts up laughing, throwing her head back. The guy smiles at this, seeming happy that he made his friend laugh. He jumps to his feet, grabs her arm, and spins her around and around until she almost falls down.
There’s such freedom in the way they talk and laugh, overwhelming happiness to the point that I actually start to feel happy just observing them. I consider going over there and introducing myself. Why the hell not? It won’t hurt anything and it’s not like I haven’t introduced myself to complete strangers before. Besides, the guy looks familiar. As they wander up the path, the guy directly faces me. I get a full view of his golden blonde hair and gorgeous brown eyes, realizing I’ve definitely seen him before. It’s the guy that was staring at me earlier this week.