The Love Rectangle

Chapter 3

Our obligations for the social work initiative are minimal. We attend an open house with all the non-profits in the county that are partnering with Haverhill College this year. I chat with the booths representing organizations that help young children, and Connor meets with the two pertaining to incarcerated adult men. Emma and Derek don't bother to show up at all.

I've texted Sam who also is avoiding being in the suite. She said after I left, Brian seemed to be in shock and announced I had broken up with him. He eventually closed himself in our bedroom to make calls looking for somewhere else to crash for the weekend. Sam had headed to the mall to avoid his sullen awkwardness. Connor can tell I'm in no rush to head back to my suite, and suggests taking sandwiches to nearby Lake Haverhill.

The lake is big and curvy, winding around the foothills. It's a gorgeous late August day filled with sunshine and a stiff breeze. In another week, the shores will be filled with lazy college kids sunning themselves between classes. Right now, there are only a few other people on the beach. They're mostly local moms with little kids wading in the shallow water.

I'm halfway through my sandwich, which Connor generously sprung for, when I realize he seems a little off himself. I inquire about his distant mood.

He retorts with a snippy attitude. "While the latest chapter of the Brian-Carter saga was unfolding, I was having my own brush of bad luck in the romance department."

I deserve his snippiness. I have been really self-absorbed lately. Connor explains that he and Jen Cooke had a tricky conversation last night. It turns out that she never really told her boyfriend of four years, Sean O'Malley, that they were officially broken up. Apparently, she merely mentioned she'd been contemplating a break but never truly gave him the boot, so to speak. Instead, she and Sean had spent much of their summer in their shared hometown together after all. Jen had assured Connor that the break up was imminent, and that all would be fixed by the time classes started next week. All I can muster is a flat, "that sucks."

"Yeah, it does suck. I really, really like Jen and just want to start the semester off with her right. This is just one more hurdle, I guess," Connor laments. His face is serious, almost sad.

We alternate between dozing on the blanket and exchanging silly quips. After a while, I sit up and hug my knees into my chest as I watch the sun slowly start to sink behind the hills. Connor is a really good person, and Jen is lucky. Sure, he's incredibly sexy. Sure, I've thought about what it would be like to kiss his incredible lips. Sure, he smells divine always. But he's also one of the most genuine people I've met at Haverhill. He's going to be such a good social worker with his unyielding sense of empathy. Best of all, I'm really happy for him and Jen. He seems so into her and totally psyched that she's arriving tomorrow. I genuinely hope their story works out.

At that moment, my inner musings on Connor are interrupted by his fingers tracing above the edge of my jeans where my skin is exposed from leaning forward. A sudden thrill of sexual tension stirs through me, but I stare forward trying to decide what his game is here. I don't get to ponder it much as I'm interrupted by a group of people calling to me and Connor.

It's a bunch of girls from the initiative laying out a blanket a bit further down the beach. Most of them are peeling layers off to reveal swimsuits underneath. They wave us over. Connor is distracted by a text, ostensibly from Jen, and tells me to go ahead.

The girls are lovely and we talk social work for a few minutes before one of them blurts out, "Are you and Connor hooking up?"

I'm taken aback. After all, I had a boyfriend up until a couple hours ago. Plus, Connor is head over heals for Jen, and he clearly isn't interested in me anyway.