College Girl (8 page)

“He didn’t almost deflower me!
Jesus!”

Julie rolled her eyes and hopped
on my bed.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

“Well, he walked me back from
Calculus last night, and the asshole from downstairs started banging on the
door looking for Brit.”

Julie snorted.

“Both our roomies were at some
kind of rush event last night. S-o-o-o? What happened? Were you guys getting it
on in here or what?”

I squirmed.

“Not quite.”

“Well, shit. That’s disappointing.
So he just walked you back to the dorm, and that was it?”

I shrugged guiltily.

“We might have kissed.”

“Whore!” she squawked.

“You think I should sew a scarlet
“W” onto my clothes?”

“Totally! You’d be the first
virgin whore. You could start a trend.”

“Great.”

“Hold up. I thought you said you
weren’t going to see him again,” Julie said accusingly.

“Julie, I tried to avoid him. I
really tried. I even left class early, and he fucking jumped out at me before I
could get out of 1500.”

“Hot guy stalking you. What a
fucking problem!”

“He’s not a hot guy! He’s my
fucking math TA! Before last week I hadn’t even kissed a guy. Then I have this insanely
random hookup with some guy ten years older than me? Come on. It’s not like
we’re going to start going out.”

“Well, you could fuck him.”

“Jules!”

“
What
? It was just a suggestion. If Chris walked into my dorm room
and said, ‘
Let’s fuck
,’ I’d seriously
consider it.”

“
Shh
!” I whispered, laughing.

Chris’s room was directly across
the hall from mine, and Julie had a serious thing for him. He was one of the
nicer guys on our floor. Meaning he smiled when I passed him in the hall, he
didn’t make asinine comments, and he didn’t play his music all day and all
night at an eardrum-bursting decibel. He was cute, too, but not hot in a Ryan
Bennett sort of way.
At least not to me.

“Oh, right. Alex Reed is waiting
for true love. Good luck with that.”

I picked up my pillow and tried to
smack her with it.

“I’m just sayin’ … Hot guys don’t
grow on trees,” Julie pointed out. “You wanna grab breakfast tomorrow?”

I nodded as she jumped off the
bed.

“So, what are you going to do when
you see him in class?”

I shrugged.

“No fucking clue.”

She laughed and walked out. Shit.
What the hell was I going to do?

Ryan

I met Becca halfway between campus
and the winery. My sister had been the first to break with the family tradition
by going to design school. However, she owned her own shop, which just happened
to be on the grounds of the Bennett Family Cellars. Her acquiescence to my
mother was how she got out of being the black sheep—a title reserved for
me, despite my master’s in viticulture and enology.

I walked into the coffee shop and
ordered a black coffee for
myself and an Americano
for
Becca. When she walked in a few minutes later, it was jarring to see my big
sis, the Amazonian goddess. Six-feet-tall in her socks, she had played
volleyball during undergrad in Southern California. She smirked, her blue eyes
crinkling.

“Baby brother, why the hell do you
need a dress for a little person?”

“It’s a long, fucked up story. But
the parents will be happy that I’m attending the family function next week, so
…” I said.

“So you
are
gracing us with your presence, then.”

I pulled out her chair for her.

“Don’t turn into Mom, Bec.”

“But I do Mom so well!
Are you bringing Gretchen, Dear?
”

“Low blow, Sis.”

“Oh, take it easy. I never liked
her anyway.”

“
Now
you tell me.”

“What? You knew it. That girl
wanted a fucking fairy tale; she didn’t want you.”

“Damn. You really know how to
damage a man.”

“Yes, I do,” she smiled.

I stood up and retrieved our
drinks. When I got back to the table, she patted the garment bag and shoebox
sitting on the chair next to her.

“Size seven shoes, right?”

I nodded.

“Please tell me you did better
this time with the new girl,” she said dryly.

“Or worse depending on how you
look at it.”

“Well, if she’s not a drug addict,
it will be an improvement.”

I studied my sister for a long
moment.

“How long did you know about
Gretchen?”

“Long enough. I was waiting for
you to come to grips with it.”

“Good to know.”

“And this new one?”

I shrugged.

“I don’t have anything to prove to
the parents.”

“So Mom’s going to shit a brick
when you show up next Saturday? Let me guess. She’s got piercings? Full-sleeve
tats?”

“Mom passed judgment on me a long
time back.”

Becca snorted.

“You, Ryan, are Mom’s favorite.”
She paused. “Believe me. I don’t envy you that honor. Mom doesn’t give a shit
what I do. It’s liberating. Now, are you going to fucking tell me something
about your little date?”

I smiled.

“She’s five-four.”

Becca laughed.

“She’s a first-year—”

“In the math program?”

“English.”

“You and a tiny English doctoral
student?” my sister choked.

“She’s not a doctoral student.”

“Master’s?”

I shook my head.

“She’s an
undergrad
? Gretchen must have really fucked your shit up.”

“She’s not a kindergartener, Bec.
You’d like her. She has a fucking foul mouth, just like my big sister. Besides,
how old is Mason? He’s turning forty-five this year?”

“Forty-two.”

“And you’re thirty …” I trailed
off.

“Four. Yeah. Shut up, young one.”

“Her name’s Alex, and I expect at
least one member of our family to be well-behaved next weekend, got it?”

“And you think it’s going to be
me?”

I smiled.

“It’s not going to be Mom.”

“You must really like this girl if
you’re willing to expose her to the family.”

“I like her more than I should.”

“That sounds ominous. All right.
I’ve
gotta
get back. I’ll see you next weekend. Can’t
wait to meet your freshman.”

Smirking, I watched her walk out
before checking my watch. If I pushed the speed limit, I could make it back to
campus, take a run with Finn, and squeeze in a shower before heading over to
1500. When I got to the curb, I unlocked the Audi and hung the dress in the backseat.
I hadn’t even bothered to look at it, but I trusted Becca.

By the time I got on the bike and
rode over to campus, it was colder than it had been, which made me think of
what Alex had said about being cold all the time. I still couldn’t imagine her
in Southern California. Stopping by the department, I picked up Robertson’s
laptop and reassured him that I would have it set up before class. The lecture
hall was still empty when I got there, and after setting up the presentation, I
sat in the front row and waited for Alex to show up.

When she walked in and saw me, her
cheeks turned pink and she gave me a half smile. It felt like fucking forever
since I had seen her on Tuesday night, and I realized that I wanted to see her
every
night, which scared the living
shit out of me. Maybe Becca had been right. Maybe Gretchen really had fucked me
up. If that was the case, then I had no right to foist my fucked up shit on
this girl. Watching Alex sit down, I thought:
Fuck that
. Gretchen and I had been over a long time before I saw
Alex. The only one holding on to anything between Gretchen and me was my
mother. Walking over to where Alex was sitting, I handed her the
assignments—the one from Tuesday and the one I hadn’t given her from last
week.

“You suck at math,” I said.

She turned red.

“No shit. I told you that. I’m
just trying to pass this fucking class so I don’t have to retake it.”

“I could tutor you.”

She laughed.

“Uh huh. Right. You’re a math
teacher. You try tutoring me, and we’ll fucking hate each other. Just let me
fail in peace.”

“All right. Well, I have something
for you. Can you come back to the house with me after class?”

Alex frowned.

“Another late night trip to your
house? Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“Can I bring it by your dorm,
then? Safe enough?”

She nodded.

“Tomorrow. I’ll be back from class
around four-thirty. I’m usually around on Friday nights unless my friend shows
up and drags me out.” She smiled. “I guess I’m getting a head start on grad school.”

I turned as Robertson walked in
and then paused and looked back at her.

“Walking back to Mercer by
yourself again?” I asked more hopefully than I should have.

She shook her head and waved at a
chubby kid who had just walked in. The little punk looked like he was ready to
do a back flip at the sight of Alex waving in his direction, and I heard the
crack of my knuckles.

“Tony lives down the hall from me.
He offered to walk back to the dorm together.”

“I’m sure he did,” I muttered
before returning to the front of the classroom.

Jesus. This was bad. Was I
actually feeling jealous of an eighteen-year-old boy who bore an uncanny
resemblance to a teddy bear? Alex had been right. I had no right to ask her
back to my house tonight. I was out of control. To take stock, in the past
week, I had: come way too close to fucking an undergrad student of my advisor,
broken the nose of her stalker, and asked my friend’s fiancée to commit
computer fraud. I had more or less become a stalker myself.

Sad. That was what this was. I
couldn’t remember caring this much when Gretchen had admitted to a drunken
fling with her personal trainer. Of course, her goal in cheating had been to
get back at me after I had
ruined her
life
by going back to school. She had probably expected me to become
overwhelmed with jealousy.
And sure.
I could have gone
over to her gym and kicked the shit out of the guy. Instead, I had wanted to
hand the guy a fucking medal for giving me an easy out.

I glanced over to the front row where
Alex sat wedged between her roommate, who was even worse at math than Alex, and
the pudgy-faced little fool who was probably trying to figure out if his little
act of pseudo-chivalry was going to get him to second base. A furious wave of
regret kicked me in the gut. I should have made her come that night. Who’d have
thought that my fucking conscience would win in an all out war with my dick? I
had done the ethical thing by backing off that night, but why should some
inexperienced little prick get there first?

By the end of lecture, I was ready
for the punching bag, not theorems. When Alex walked up and held out her
homework assignment, she smiled but didn’t say anything. I looked back and saw
her roommate, who stuck out her tongue, complete with a stud.

I flipped back to Alex’s homework
assignment and saw a note scrawled at the top.
See you tomorrow
. I looked for her, but she was almost to the door.
Fuck
! I wanted to beat her back to
Mercer and wait at her dorm room, which—again—made me a stalker
asshole. The thought of waiting until tomorrow night to see her was
excruciating. And I was out of my goddamned mind.

After the last student left 1500,
I went straight to the Rec Center and spent thirty minutes destroying my fists
on the bag. Good thing was that the only people in the basement with me looked
like they were punishing themselves, too. Remembering my bribe to Brenda, I
wondered how the two of them were going to get through two cases of wine.
Neither of them was a big drinker. But it was great wine—and free.
Occasionally I felt bad that I couldn’t tell Jess my real name, but it was
easier going by Matthews.

I got back to the house and took
Finn for a spin around the block before opening up a bottle and killing it
within the hour. Luckily, Bennetts didn’t get hangovers. Correction: Bennetts
were immune to red wine.

Vodka was another thing. But
someone who willingly drank that fucking poison deserved what he got. Besides,
the way I saw it, any guy who claimed that red wine was for pussies didn’t
actually like pussy, and he certainly couldn’t make a woman come if his life
depended on it.

I loved red wine.

###

Friday was never-ending. I worked
all morning and then met with Robertson before riding out to the family
estate—unbeknownst to Richard Bennett, patriarch of the Bennett clan. I
was here because of Massimo Baldacci, the man who had managed my parents’ vineyard
since I was six years old.

Massimo was old school. His
grandfather had grown grapes in Tuscany, and he and my father didn’t always see
eye to eye. Meaning every so often he got sick of my father’s
my way or the highway
method of
winemaking. When I had first gotten out of school, Massimo and I started
discussing the finer points of our trade. He was, in many ways, a second father
to me. He was the man who had told me to fight for what I wanted and walk away
from what I didn’t. I trusted him. I respected him. I hoped to one day be
one-tenth of the winemaker he was. That said
,
I always
knew I’d end up going back to wine. But that didn’t mean I wanted to give up
everything else.

“Your father, he is very
stubborn,” Massimo said gravely when I met him.

“I thought you were going to tell
me something I didn’t know,” I smiled.

His steel-blue eyes crinkled, and
he laughed.

“One day, these decisions will be
yours, and you, boy, are not here enough.”

“Now you sound like my old man,
Massimo.”

We walked toward the vines.

“Your father is looking at the
best crop of a decade, and he won’t listen to reason.”

“Again, nothing new. Massimo, you
run the vineyard. My father knows that. I’ve never understood why you didn’t
start up on your own.”

He looked up at the gray skies as
it started raining down on us.

“Because I wanted to be here.”

I didn’t argue with him. I just
followed him and listened like I had when I was a kid. Hell, to him, I still
was a kid. By the time we finished, we were both soaked, and I told him what I
had always believed: when it came to the grapes, he knew what was best, and my
father should listen to him, not the other way around.

It was almost five by the time I
finally left. And it was an hour back to school. Then I had to shower and
change, which meant I was going to be late showing up at Alex’s dorm. And unfortunately,
by the time I pulled up at the house, I knew things were about to get worse. Finn
was sitting on the front porch, and a familiar white BMW was parked in the
driveway.

Gretchen. She had the worst
fucking timing.

The front door swung open, and
that’s when I realized that she still had a key to the house. She walked out
holding a glass of white, looking like she was shooting an advertisement for a
lifestyle magazine. The difference between my ex and Alex was startling, even
more so than the difference between Alex and my sister. Alex and Becca were
both real—unlike Gretchen, who resembled a carefully put together
product. Gretchen had been what I thought I wanted when I hadn’t known what I
wanted. Even from the street, I could see her perfect blonde highlights, her
French manicure as she tapped her nails on the wine glass, and her perfectly
applied makeup.

Finn ran off the porch and stopped
in front of me, wagging his tail. Gretchen had never liked my dog.

“You look good,” I said
diplomatically as I approached her.

“That’s the best you can come up
with?” she sneered. “I look better than
good
.”

I felt my knuckles crack of their
own accord. She was already drunk. I walked up the stairs, straight past her,
and into the house. I looked around for damage, grateful that I had left my
work in the safe. There was a mostly empty bottle of wine on the table, and
hearing the door thump closed behind me, I turned and looked at her. Now that I
was up close, I could see her smudged lipstick and the vicious look in her
eyes.