“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“I don’t think you’re stupid.” Griff looks away. “What’s this about anyway?”
“I just need . . . help, and I thought . . .” I shrug, looking up at Griff. ;“The library would be the place to start getting things in order.”
The student center is in the basement of the library, and I’ve often seen tutoring done in there when I’ve had to copy pages from a research book.
“By yourself?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, I can’t rely on anyone but me.”
Griff puts some books away, then directs his cart down the aisle and out the main area. I follow him, and we make our way to the other end of the spacious library. “What classes are you taking?”
I search through my bag and pull out my schedule, then tell Griff all about my grades and how badly I’ve been doing.
“Okay,” Griff says. “We can get this settled. It’s not going to be easy.”
“I know that.”
“It looks like you’re doing well in Art though.”
“Yeah, but I’m not going to major in it. Too close to being artsy. I want something
un
artsy.”
Griff folds the schedule back up. “Why would you do that? If you like art, you should study art.”
“Because then everyone will think I just want to be famous, and besides, what can you do with an art degree?”
“Who cares what anyone else thinks?” Griff puts the last book on the shelf, and the cart is now empty. I realize this is the first actual conversation I’ve had with Griff; he may be—as Jamie said—silent but deadly, but Griffin Sinclair is someone I would want to have as a friend. “Do what you’re good at.”
“But that’s just the thing. I don’t know if I want to major in Art. I don’t know what I want to major in. But I feel like I should choose something I
absolutely love
, like how you want to be a librarian because you love books.”
“You’re a freshman. You don’t have to decide today,” Griff says matter of factly. “You just have to pass your classes.”
“I don’t want to
just
pass. I want to do well, but I need help.”
“Well, Hailey Bloom, you’ve come to the right place.”
Chapter 9
A
FTER GRIFF HELPS ME SET
a schedule and gets me in a tutoring group, I head back home to my apartment. Tonight is a low-key night, so I take advantage of it and get a lot of work done. I feel invigorated, because now I have some tutors and I’m going to get the help I need. I also will get a handle on being better as a student and in my classes. I just feel relieved, like I’m being pro-active and actually starting to direct my life in a positive direction. I know it won’t be as easy as snapping my fingers—although that would be super awesome if I could do that and suddenly be a kickass student who easily earns As all over the joint.
But it’s a start.
And that’s a huge something to me.
I’m on my last homework assignment of the night—a worksheet for a science class—and trying to figure out the solutions to a few problems when the intercom buzzes.
I’m in a pair of yoga pants and a loose tee, and my feet are bare. I slip on a pair of fuzzy pink slippers and reach the intercom as it buzzes again.
“Hello?”
“It’s me.”
Caleb.
My heart leaps in response. I’m so glad it’s him. So, so glad.
“Oh, hey.” Yeah, like acting nonchalant even works at this point. I’m so into Caleb, and there’s no point in hiding the fact.
“Can I come up?” Caleb asks.
“Sure. I’m not dressed though.”
A brief pause. “In that case, I’ll be up in two seconds.”
“Not like that.” I laugh. “I’m just in hang out clothes.”
“I’m not fancy either. Let me up, Hailey. I’ve got food.”
“Hmmm.” I lean against the wall, liking the flirting over the intercom thing that’s happening between us. “I don’t know if I should. It depends on what you have.”
“Italian.”
I don’t say anything, letting the buzz that lets him in be my answer.
I take the few minutes I have to quickly brush my teeth, pull my messy tumble of wavy hair into a low ponytail, and grab a sweatshirt. The doorbell rings just as I’m picking up my homework. I shuffle the papers somewhat neatly on the kitchen table and empty my cup of tea down the sink.
“Just a sec,” I call out, running over to the door.
I open it and Caleb’s there with a bag of mouth-watering Italian food. It smells delicious, and my stomach rumbles.
“Sorry, I’m starving,” I say as I let him in. I was so wrapped up in my homework that I forgot to eat dinner. “And sorry about the mess. I was doing work.”
“It’s not messy.” Caleb puts the bag down on the kitchen counter. “I got chicken parmesan or fettuccini Alfredo. I wasn’t sure if you were a vegetarian, vegan, or—”
“I eat meat, but I was on this no carb thing like forever.
That
was the first thing to go when I got here.” And I plan on never ever going back. Carbs may be the devil, but I love them.
“You want to split both meals?”
“Definitely.” I get two plates out from the cabinet, and Caleb scoops a part of both meals onto each plate. “I still have some homework to do.”
“What do you have?”
I make a face. “Science.”
Caleb grimaces in sympathy. “Hate science. My mom is an engineer; she’s wicked smart in math and science.”
“I’m not doing well in the subject.” I laugh, a little bitterly. “I’m actually not doing well in any of them. I guess Griff told you, and this is why you came over.”
“I came over because I wanted to see you. I can’t stop thinking about you, Hailey. And Griff didn’t tell me anything. What’s going on?”
I take a deep breath and tell him. “Sooooo, that’s that.”
“I don’t think any of us did well when we first started college. Daphne has, but that’s because Daph’s a freak of nature. She was valedictorian of her class, and that was a huge thing after what happened to her.”
I cut into my chicken parmesan. “What did happen with Daphne?”
“She got into a bad car accident the fall of her senior year in high school. She had been dating the high school quarterback since right before the junior prom of the previous year. The football team had won the state championship, and there was a party afterward. Daphne was driving because she was the only one who didn’t drink.” Caleb’s gaze grows shattered and he takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Another car plowed into hers on the highway. She couldn&rsquo't regain control, and her car went flying. They were all ejected from the car—Daphne, her boyfriend, Daphne’s best friend, and her friend’s boyfriend. Daphne was the only one who survived.”
“Oh. God. That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”
“We thought we were going to lose her. It was so close, and she . . . she almost didn’t make it.” Caleb clears his throat. “She had a full ride to Julliard. She wanted to act, you know. She was super talented and she’s super funny—but since the accident, she’s given that up. She wants nothing to do with it. And she went here because it was small and quiet, and . . . I promised her that she could start over. That I wouldn’t be so overprotective, but . . . just don’t pity her. Daph hates being pitied, and if you tried to show any sympathy, she’ll tell you to fuck off.” Caleb laughs, a little more easily. “But I worry so much about her.”
“I get that.”
His hands clench tight around his silverware, his eyes stark, wide. “But I just can’t stop being her big brother. She’s my sister. And I almost lost her. I’m always going to look out for her.”
I place my hand over his. “I know, Caleb. I know.”
And we just sit there for a long while. The food is cold when we finally eat it, but I don’t mind in the least.
T
HE STUDY GROUP MEETS AT
4 p.m., but I’m there fifteen minutes early, my hand clutched tight on my messenger bag strap as I look around the library for Griff. I don’t see him anywhere, and a nervous bubble rises in me, much like the feeling I would get before I’d go on stage to perform for thousands and thousands of screaming fans. Except back then, as I was getting last minute checks by the sound guy and had another making sure I was taped into my outfit, no one cared if I was nervous or scared or really didn’t want to perform, and I would push all those feelings deep down within me, until they were cloaked and no one could tell that I was dreading the moment when I stepped on the stage to sing.
Here, in the library, where the light is much softer, the noise definitely a lot quieter, and there aren’t as many people . . . I don’t feel as if I can hide anything. And suddenly I’m scared that when I meet the other students in this study group that no one will like me. That I’ll continue to be a disappointment, especially if they knew
me
. Everyone expects
the
Hailey Bloom they see and hear, but—
“Hailey!” a rushed whisper, as if the person belatedly realized this was a library and not an auditorium. Apparently I’m not the only one having a hard time in this place, or perhaps this is just me fixating on things I shouldn’t be fixating on.
Shaking my head, I glance over to the sound. Daphne’s face peeks around a bookcase, and she waves her hand, gesturing for me to come over. “Hailey!” she whispers furiously again. “Get your skinny ass over here.”
Heads shoot her way, and a few give Daphne a pointed glare.
“Sorry,” she hisses out, her hazel eyes narrowing slightly. “Sorry.”
When I near her, she grabs my wrist and pulls me into the aisle.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Caleb told you, didn’t he?”
I hesitate for a brief moment. “Yes.”
“Listen,” she says, pointing a finger in my direction, “I’m
totally
over it.”
“Okay.”
“No, I really, really am. Over it, I mean.” Daphne’s gaze hardens. “So you better not start treating me any differently.”
“Daphne . . .”
“I mean it.” She punctuates each word by jabbing a finger into my chest. “Just because my idiot brother and his idiot friends can’t get over
it
, doesn’t mean that I’m still stuck on
it
. Got me?”
“Gotcha. You’re fine. Your brother is an idiot, and—”
“He shouldn’t have told you,” she says furiously. “I can already see that you’ll be looking at me in a different way. As the one who was
lucky
enough to survive.”
“I feel bad you went through that,” I say gently. “But I don’t look at you any different. It sucks what happened. Life can be really sucky.”
The fight seems to leave her body as her shoulders slump forward. “Yeah. It can.”
“Besides you don’t treat me any differently because I’m—”
“Because I saw you with pizza sauce dribbled all over your mouth and on your shirt, you sloppy eater.”
“Hey, like I said, that was an accident.”
“And I saw you in your bra and underwear when we were changing that night before the party. Plus, you make googly googly eyes at my brother, and clearly, if you’re doing that, then you’re totally missing more than a few brain cells.”
“I do not make any googly googly eyes.”
“Suuuuuure you don’t.” Daphne pouts out her lower lip and bats her lashes. “Ohhhh, I’d love to go on a date with you.”
“I don’t sound like that.” I hesitate. “Do I?”
“Girl, you’ve got it so bad.”
“Just remember: payback can be a bitch.”
Daphne laughs. “I will never ever make googly googly eyes at anyone. Nope, nope, nope. And what are you doing here, anyway?”
“Study group in”—I check my watch—“seven minutes.”
“Seriously?” Daphne rocks back on her bright purple ballet flats. “That’s my group.”
“You’re the tutor?”
Daphne smiles wide. “Yup. This should be fun. I’ll have you and the others passing in no time. After all, I am a fucking genius.”
“You know what they say about women with big egos . . .”
“Yeah, I do.” She smiles cheekily at me. “And I’ll tell you right now, it’s all true. Big egos, big tits, and a really big brain.”
I laugh and let Daphne pull me to the study group area, where, not surprisingly, Daphne proves to be a very good tutor.
“H
ERE’S THE THING,” CALEB SAYS
a few nights later, as he picks me up from my apartment building. His dark green gaze meets mine as I slide into his car. He’s still holding the passenger car door open and leans in. “You look beautiful.”
“So you’ve said.” But still a giddy smile breaks out over my face, and there’s no point in even trying to stop the rush of pleasure coursing through my body.
Tonight is our “official” first date.
And all day I’ve been . . . nervous. Well, nervous would be the wrong word. More like an extreme case of anticipation. My closet is a mess, as I tore through it trying to find just the right outfit for the date. I wanted something pretty and sexy, but I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard. I’ve never been
this
nervous or excited before.
In the end I went with a pair of slim dark jeans with a white loose-styled peasant shirt that has threads of silver bursting through it, and took my dark chocolate leather jacket, just in case it gets cold later on. Perhaps I should have left my jacket home again, though, as I might miss a prime opportunity to wear his jacket at some point.
But, at the same time, I could always leave my jacket in his car . . . or not. I don’t want to seem like I’m
too
desperate for him, when I totally am. A girl has to have some pride, after all.
“You look pretty good yourself,” I say.
I’m glad I went with my jeans and cute shirt instead of a flirty dress as Caleb is wearing jeans and a nice blue shirt. He looks good enough to eat. Mmmm. Caleb à la mode sounds really sinful and awesome.
He runs a finger down my cheek. “You’re blushing.”
“I’m
always
blushing around you.”
“I know,” he says, a shy grin escaping as he leans closer to me. “I’ve always wanted to kiss you when you’re blushing.”
I draw back slightly to meet his dark, heated gaze. Breathing seems suddenly impossible, and the space between us too far. “Oh?”
“I’ve wanted to put my mouth”—his finger traces a path over the apple of my cheek—“here and . . .