Joey
I woke up to find myself sitting up. Admittedly, that was a new one. Asleep in my truck, or fully dressed in my bed, or dozing on some girl's floor - those were to be expected on a Friday morning. This was a new low. The sense of dread wracking my body was all too familiar. I didn't have to think too hard to recognize the relationship between the three things - Fridays, feeling sick, and the parade of women - but I chose not to acknowledge it. I shoved aside the automatic connection and assessed my situation instead.
I started by trying to recall the events of the evening before.
Everything was an unpleasant blur that started with the Jell-O girl and ended with me waking up with a stiff back and an aching head.
Where was your brain last night, Joey?
The problem wasn't even the seven, water-downed shots. I could drink twice that and keep standing. It was just that it was the same thing every Thursday. I flirted with a few girls, sorted through them like a deck of cards, and went home with whichever one was most likely to kick me out before the night was through. I had getting tastefully-out-of-hand down to a damned science.
I stretched my legs across the hallway as I planned my escape from the dorm. I knew I needed to get out before some girl.
That was when I saw the mismatched shoes approaching at breakneck speed. They flashed - green/brown, green/brown - in contrast with the speckled linoleum.
What the -
My thought cut off as I realized that the girl attached to the shoes hadn't seen me, and wasn't going to stop.
Green/brown, green/brown, green/brown.
"Hey!" I yelled.
My warning was about two seconds too late, and suddenly a swirl of vanilla-scented hair cascaded across my face. I inhaled, trying to catch a bit more of the pleasant smell. The girl recovered quickly from the near-fall, but the lingering sweetness made me wish - just for a second - she hadn't recovered at all.
Forget it, I grumbled at myself. You're in enough trouble as it is.
I made myself smile, polite but reserved, then asked if she was okay. When she snapped something back at me, I caught a better look at her. Both my politeness and my disgust at myself were nearly forgotten.
I was looking up at one of the most beautiful faces I had ever seen. She had a perfect, upturned nose, and a mouth that begged to be kissed. An attractive smattering of freckles peppered her nose, and her eyes were a gorgeous, deep brown.
Damn.
I felt a nearly unfamiliar pull on my heart, and tried to think of something to say to make her stay.
She shook her head at me, then walked away stiffly. I watched her go, mesmerized by the smooth, curved line of her backside as she moved. She was quick, and in a second she was gone.
She's going to get away. I jumped to my feet.
I jogged to the end of the corridor and shoved open the door. The hall on the other side split in two and I didn't know which way she'd gone, or even if she'd taken the stairs or the elevator. Feeling desperate, I pushed aside a potted plant and pressed my face against the window.
I peered outside. My heart lifted when I caught a flash of red moving across the commons, but when I blinked, the flash was gone.
Damn, I thought again, and this time it was a far less pleasant mental exclamation.
YOU ARE READING
Promises Made, Promises Broken - SYTYCW (Bad Reputation)
RomanceJoey is too charming for words, drifting through college on a trust fund and a gorgeous smile. Tucker is kind-hearted and community minded, without an ounce of patience for guys with big trucks and even bigger egos. Both are trying to outrun their...