Finding Our Way

Chapter 3 - I don't date

I take the stairs closest to me and walk out of the lecture room. I'm halfway down the hall, scrolling through Twitter on my phone, when I hear the same voice from class shout my name behind me.

For a split second, I consider pretending I don't hear him and keep walking, but I promised myself and my roommates that I'd make an effort to make friends this year. Regretting this instantly, I take a deep breath and turn to face Mason, pushing a loose strand of hair out of my face. I knew I should've pinned my hair back this morning. Damn Florida humidity.

"Thanks for saving me in class today. I appreciate it." I say nervously as he comes to a stop in front of me. Why am I so nervous? He's just a guy. But up close, he's much cuter than I thought in class. He's downright hot. How have I never noticed him before?

I don't miss the way he towers over me and I'm not a short girl at five-feet and seven inches. His light brown hair has a slight curl to it and is longer than I thought it would be. He has that baseball flow that I see pitcher's sporting in the MLB.

Not that I watch baseball often but my dad's a huge Red Sox fan. His brown eyes are as dark as a Hershey's chocolate bar and they're the perfect size. Not too round or huge. I wonder if his parents are models. They have to be with how straight and shiny his teeth are. If he smiles any bigger, I might go blind.

"Yeah no problem. I could tell you were distracted," he replies smiling at me, "I was wondering what you're doing this weekend."

Uh probably hiding in my room and getting a head start on my assignments.

Wait, is he asking me out? We barely know each other.

No. He only wants one thing.

"I don't date." I reply awkwardly, adjusting my bag on my shoulder and feeling uncomfortable.

I've been asked out enough to know it's easiest to get right to the point instead of beating around the bush. The longer it goes, the worse the voice gets and the further I slip into the dark abyss.

He chuckles. "I'm not asking you out. I'm having a party this weekend and wanted to know if you wanted to come. You can bring your roommates too."

"Uh.. I'll think about it." I answer honestly. I haven't gone to a big party since that night, but I'm sure Kaylee and Gia will hear about it even if I don't tell them.

Speaking of them, my phone pings with a new text notification from our group message. I pull it out and type in my passcode to see what they're talking about, forgetting I'm in the presence of someone.

"Great." he smiles and grabs my phone right out of my hands.

"What are you doing?" I exclaim, reaching for it, but he turns slightly, his shoulder blocking my view. What an asshole! Who takes someone's phone right out of their hands like that? Entitled athletes.

"Calm down. I'm just giving you my number so you can let me know if you're coming or not. See you later Lexi." He winks and walks away, leaving me staring after him.

***

I walk into my bedroom after a long first day and throw my bag on my bed before collapsing on it. It's the biggest of the three rooms and I only won it because I drew the biggest straw on the day we moved in.

My room has light pink walls with chestnut hardwood floors and three large windows that provide ample natural light. My dark oak desk sits in the corner complete with a brown office chair and brown shelves behind it. The warm brown tones remind me of autumn in Boston.

My music collection sits up there along with various picture frames of me with my parents, sisters, and friends. My vanity set sits in the corner near the bathroom and has the Hollywood lighting that most girls would love. My mom bought it for me hoping college would make me love makeup and dressing up.

I've always been a disappointment in that way to her. My sisters were into makeup, dating, boys, and the latest celebrity gossip whereas I was into the latest music trends, music videos, and reading. The only time we really connected was when she took me to my first concert and I fell in love with live music. Since then, I've attended over a hundred concerts.

I pull out my phone and stare at Mason's number. Our conversation earlier plays through my head over and over again but all I can think about is how I've never noticed him around campus. I've heard of him and know he's an important player on the baseball team, but I'm pretty sure we aren't friends on social media. It makes me wonder why he singled me out over a sea of adoring fans in our class.

He has a typical athlete's body, broad shoulders, toned muscular arms, and I'd bet my life he's hiding a six-pack under that t-shirt. But when I turned around to sneak another peek at him, my mouth about hit the floor. All I can say is I bet he rocks those baseball pants very well.

A guy like Mason would want nothing to do with a girl like me. I'm quiet, kind of pretty, and incredibly shy. It takes me a little while to warm up and trust someone.

And you're beyond damaged. The voice mocks me.

Right, how could I ever forget that I come with more emotional baggage than other girls.

You won't ever be normal like other girls. You're just a game until someone better comes along.

I sigh, grabbing my music publishing textbook and push the voice and the party out of my mind.