Chapter 2

2

Adison

I take a deep satisfying breath. It’s finally Friday and I managed to get through all the tutoring sessions for the week. My stomach protests with a loud growl.

No wonder my stomach is angry, I didn’t even stop for lunch today.

I close the math book and slide it gently into my backpack. The traveling library is practically coming apart at the seams. Toting this math book along with the math books of numerous classes at Tennessee University not only puts a strain on the material but also on my back. I yawn.

As soon as I get back to my dorm and eat, I’m taking a long nap.

Tutoring is one of the most rewarding experiences. I love helping students who are anxious to learn and want to improve. I’ve had a few lackluster students along the way, but most are relieved to get assistance.

“Thanks so much for your help with the formulas,” Melinda says, a tall and willowy like blonde ballerina.

“You’ll be able to use the formulas for the exam, but you’ll have to know how to apply them. If you study the examples we went over today, you shouldn’t have any problems.”

Melinda lets out a huge breath. “You’re a lifesaver, Adison. Thanks again.”

“No worries. You’ll do great.” I hitch the backpack onto my shoulder.

The backpack feels like a lead weight on my aching body.

“Good luck with the exam on Monday.”

“Thanks.” Melinda tucks her books into a stylish leather satchel.

At the thought of the weekend just ahead, I get a burst of energy and scurry through the library. Once I hit the warm afternoon sun, I take a deep breath. The air is so fresh. The Tennessee breeze blows my hair around my face and a sense of peace envelops me. I love this opportunity to be outdoors and never take any chance to spend time in the sun for granted.

My cell phone rings. I can’t hold back my smile. Mom always knows how to make my day.

“Hello, Mom.” I balance the phone on my shoulder as I take a sip of my favorite flavored coffee.

“Just calling to check in.”

Again.

She doesn’t skip a beat. “You doing good, honey? Getting enough rest? I worry that your schedule is so busy you’ll?—”

“Mom, I’m fine. Honestly. I’m handling everything. I’m feeling good. I’m taking my meds. I’ve never felt better.” I adjust my backpack and continue through the campus.

“And you made an appointment with?—”

“With Dr. Baxter. Yes. I go for a check in two weeks.”

My mom lets out a sigh of relief. “According to Dr. Petersen, Dr. Baxter is the best cardiologist in Tennessee. You’ll be in excellent hands. I’m so proud of you, by the way.”

What would I do without you? Always my stability— my rock. Mom, a best friend, and a confidant, all rolled into one.

“Thanks.”

“Honestly, I’m relieved you’ll be seeing a good doctor while you’re so far away from home.”

“Seriously? I’m only four hours from you.”

It seems we have this conversation almost daily.

“I’ll let you get back to things. I’m sorry to bother you. I just?—”

“You’re not bothering me, but I hate to think about you worrying.”

I reach my building and head to the stairs.

“I promise I won’t worry so much. Or try not to.”

I reach the second floor of my dorm. “All moms worry, don’t they?”

I open the door to the dorm I share with my roommate, Anna.

“I guess it’s part of the job description.” She laughs. “I miss having you around here.”

I pad down the hall to my bedroom, open the door and plunk down on my bed. “I miss you too, Mom, but like I said, I’m doing great.”

“Good to hear.”

There’s a pause.

“And honey?”

“Yeah?”

“I found out today your father is moving to Arizona. He got a promotion.”

My heart sinks. “I was hoping since he was only a few hours away from me here at the university that we could work on our relationship. I thought maybe he’d come to the campus.”

“I figured. I’m sorry.”

No need for Mom to apologize. When it comes to my father, I’m used to the setbacks. I learned at an early age if you keep your expectations low, you’re never disappointed.

“Thanks for letting me know.” My fingers tug at a loose thread on my comforter. “Do you think he’ll contact me?”

“If he still has your number, he might. Just wanted you to know.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

We end our call just as my stomach growls. I shuffle into the kitchen.

I was so busy in the library, I missed lunch. I can practically hear my mother scolding me about missing meals.

While I’m making a grilled cheese sandwich, Anna comes through the front door.

“Hey roomie,” she greets with her usual mega-watt smile, her long, dark hair in a loose ponytail. She takes a whiff near my skillet. “Yum.”

“Want one?” I pull a slice of bread out of the package.

“Sure, but I can make it myself.”

“And burn down the building?”

“Funny.” She wrinkles her nose, plops down on a stool, and rests her arms on the bar facing me. “Did you think any more about tonight?”

“I’m gonna hang out here and work on some homework.”

Anna dramatically drops her head to the countertop. “Come on ,” she groans. “I promise it’ll be fun and not too crazy.”

I flip over the sandwich in the skillet and shake my head. “It’s just not my thing.” I plop the second sandwich into the skillet.

“I know you can’t drink and that’s fine. We’ll fill your insulated cup with cola and you can bring it. Just walk around with that and I promise no one will be any the wiser. Is that why you never come to parties?”

“Well, it’s that, plus, I don’t know anyone and?—”

“Exactly.” Anna points her index finger in my direction. “What better way to get to know people, right?”

Anna is the only one who knows about my heart condition. The only one I’ve confided in about the details and my restrictions. I had my first heart surgery when I was a year old and a second surgery when I was thirteen. My heart is healthy, but I must take care of myself— proper diet, plenty of exercise, and no alcohol. She’s also the only one who knows about my father, and that painful issue in my life.

Anna sets down the curling iron after twisting my last piece of hair around it.

“Perfect,” she proclaims and opens the cap on the hair pomade. “I’d give anything to have your tresses.” She uses her hands like a professional on my dark brown locks until I have an amazing hair style.

After Anna insists, I borrow her favorite Rebels T-shirt and pair it up with my skinny blue jeans, we walk through the campus to what’s known as the football house.

The football house looms large on campus as a two-and-a-half-story brick home in the older part of Marilyn, Tennessee, just a short walk from the University.

Students stand shoulder-to-shoulder on the big porch and their laughter fills the humid evening air. As we approach the house, my stomach churns like every eye is on me.

Maybe it’s not too late to turn around and run back to the safety of my dorm room. I’ve never liked parties. . . but I promised Anna.

Halfway to the porch, Anna stops, turns to me, and touches my forearm. “I know you hate this. Try to relax and have fun. Just stick with me.”

It’s not that I hate it, I’m just not comfortable around crowds. It feels too confining. I’m fun and outgoing around my small group of friends but being around people I don’t know is hard.

We make our way through the crowd on the porch and step into the foyer. The living room is brimming with students— some sit on couches and chairs while others congregate in small groups around the room.

I clench my insulated cup of cola and I’m glued to Anna’s back as she leads me through the dining room. A group of students plays beer pong at the table. We make our way to the kitchen.

I hear a deep voice say, “Help yourself.”

“Hey Sean,” Anna greets a tall handsome guy who stands near the liquor bottles.

Anna grabs the insulated cup filled with cola from my hand.

The tips of my ears burn as adrenaline surges through my veins.

No. No, Anna. I don’t want booze in my cup.

“I’m having a beer and Adison just needs a mixer.” Anna turns to me and winks.

“Thank you.” I let out a breath. “Yes. A mixer would be great.”

“Be right back.” Anna gives me a squeeze and ambles across the large kitchen, red cup in hand. She greets other partygoers as she waits in line at the keg.

If only I could feel that confident.

“Which mixer can I get you?” Sean points to the various 2-liter bottles of soft drinks lined up in front of him.

“A cola would be great.” I take a deep breath to calm myself.

Why do I get so nervous? Everything is fine.

Sean points to my cup. “So, you bring something special?”

“Special?”

He pours the cola into my cup. “Top-shelf whiskey?”

Top-shelf whiskey? I have no idea what he’s talking about since I’m not an alcohol connoisseur.

My stomach flutters. “Only the best, right?”

“Exactly.” He pats my shoulder. “I like your style.”

I take a pull from my cup. The cold soda refreshes me as I lean into the kitchen countertop. I take a few deep breaths and focus on attempting to look like I’m enjoying myself. The room that moments ago felt large enough to accommodate this crowd, now closes in on me.

Anna returns and leads me to the center of the living room which is now crammed with rowdy houseguests. I’m in the middle of a throng of activity— pulsating music, laughter, talking, cheering which comes from the game of pong going on in the next room.

“Adison, this is Brenna.” Anna points to a black-haired girl wearing a tight black top and jean skirt. “Brenna, my roommate, Adison.”

“Hi, Brenna.”

“Hey there.” Brenna wraps her arm around another girl with blonde braids and a cup with a drink threatening to spill as the girls sway to the music.

My eyes dart around the room and I take in the crowd of happy partygoers. No one’s staring at me— I’m just another college student. An unexpected sense of relief comes over me and releases all the tension that I was holding onto.

As the evening grinds on, I manage to get acquainted with a few of Anna’s friends. It’s hard to talk above the noise of the music and laughter, but at least my ears aren’t on fire anymore and my palms aren’t dripping like a faucet.

Maybe this isn’t so bad after all.

My heart stops when I spot a gorgeous guy sitting in an upholstered chair chatting with a guy on a nearby couch. Chair guy has thick, dark hair and a faint growth of stubble on his chin. His brown eyes catch me looking at him and he grins.

Hello, Mr. Sexy.

He’s wearing a tight black T-shirt that practically rips against his bulging biceps. His well-defined pecs can’t be ignored. This guy does some serious working out.

Someone grab the damn smelling salts. I’m a Victorian woman with a case of the vapors.

I enjoy the view of his movements in the straining cotton. I’m in my own world as I stare at Mr. McSexy.

My attention is drawn away as the crowd chants.

“Benji! Benji! Benji!”

The chants are coming from the beer pong table.

A guy, the size of a giant, bumps into me while the chants continue.

His deep voice rumbles above the noise. “Hold my beer, sweetheart.”

He shoves an overflowing cup of brew into my chest. I grab his cup before it spills on the other people nearby who are squeezed into this space. The crowd parts as he heads over to the beer pong table.

Apparently, he’s Benji and I’m holding Benji’s beer.

Just as he reaches the table, a group of three large guys dart through the crowd and crash into me. I start to pivot as I focus on holding the cups steady. The beer sloshes to the top of the red plastic cup, but I right myself just in time to save Benji’s beer. Still a bit unsteady, a party-goer bumps into my back and I lose my balance. I fall forward in slow motion— straight for Mr. McSexy. I try desperately to right myself.

Oh crap.

In a heap of flying woman, I crash land right onto his lap.

He lets out a breath. Oomph.

Oh my gosh. I’ve just deflated his lungs.

Both the cup of Benji’s beer and the cup of my cola spill onto his crotch. Our faces sit inches apart— his deep brown eyes staring into mine.

“Oh my gosh. I’m so?—”

“Oh shit.” His eyes widen and the corner of his mouth works up a cocky grin as his eyes focus on my lips.

So much for blending in with everyone.

I manage to use his muscular chest as leverage to get to my feet. My pant leg is drenched. My ears and face burn as I stand, frozen in place, my muscles refusing to move.

I have to get out of here.

It feels like hundreds of eyes judge me as I run through the masses to get to the front door.

I make it to the front door and hit the sidewalk running. Back to the safety of my dorm.

Rush

My attention is drawn away for a moment as the pong table starts chanting for Benji.

Benji makes his way across the crowded room and hands my mystery girl his beer.

What the hell? Does he know her?

My stomach hardens as a pang of unexplained jealousy comes over me.

The crowd opens and allows him a free path to his destination.

Before I know what’s happening, there’s a small squeal and the mystery girl falls right into my lap. She loses her grip on Benji’s full cup of beer and whatever she’s drinking. Her eyeballs are the size of frisbees as the liquid hits my crotch.

Damn. Cold. Ice. Must’ve been a mixed drink.

Her face is close enough that I could kiss her. Her sweet strawberry scent fills my nostrils and practically makes me dizzy.

Damn, she smells good.

I open my mouth to say something, but she jumps off my lap so fast, I barely have a chance to think. She runs through the crowd and out the front door without saying a word.

Good-bye, mystery beer spilling girl.