Beautiful Disaster (4 page)

Parker's eyes brightened a bit when he looked to me, and he smiled. “Hi, Abby.”

“Hi,” I said, surprised that he knew my name. I had seen him in class, but we'd never met.

Parker continued to his seat, joking with those sitting beside him. “Who's that?” I asked.

Travis shrugged, but the skin around his eyes seemed tenser than before. “Parker Hayes. He's one of my Sig Tau brothers.”

“You're in a frat?” I asked, doubtful.

“Sigma Tau, same as Shep. I thought you knew that,” he said, looking beyond me to Parker.

“Well…you don't seem the…fraternity type,” I said, eyeing the tattoos on his forearms.

Travis turned his attention to me and grinned. “My dad is an alumnus, and my brothers are all Sig Tau. It's a family thing.”

“And they expected you to pledge?” I asked, skeptical.

“Not really. They're just good guys,” he said, flicking my papers. “Better get to class.”

“Thanks for helping me,” I said, nudging him with my elbow. America passed, and I followed her to our seats.

“How did it go?” she asked.

I shrugged. “He's a good tutor.”

“Just a tutor?”

“He's a good friend, too.”

She seemed disappointed, and I giggled at the fallen expression on her face.

It had always been a dream of America's for us to date friends, and roommates-slash-cousins, for her, was hitting the jackpot. She wanted us to room together when she decided to come with me to Eastern, but I vetoed her idea, hoping to spread my wings a bit. Once she finished pouting, she focused on finding a friend of Shepley's to introduce me to.

Travis' healthy interest in me had surpassed her ideas.

I breezed through the test and sat on the steps outside the building, waiting for America. When she slumped down beside me in defeat, I waited for her to speak.

“That was awful!” she cried.

“You should study with us. Travis explains it really well.”

America groaned and leaned her head on my shoulder. “You were no help at all! Couldn't you have given me a courtesy nod or something?” I hooked my arm around her neck and walked her to our dorm.

· · ·

Over the next week, Travis helped with my history paper and tutored me in Biology. We stood together scanning the grade board outside Professor Campbell's office. My student number was three spots from the top.

“Third-highest test grade in the class! Nice, Pidge!” he said, squeezing me. His eyes were bright with excitement and pride, and an awkward feeling made me take a step back.

“Thanks, Trav. Couldn't have done it without you,” I said, pulling on his T-shirt.

He tossed me over his shoulder, making his way through the crowd behind us. “Make way! Move it, people! Let's make room for this poor woman's hideously disfigured, ginormous brain! She's a fucking genius!”

I giggled at the amused and curious expressions of my classmates.

· · ·

As the days went by, we fielded the persistent rumors about a relationship. Travis' reputation helped to quiet the gossip. He had never been known to stay with one girl longer than a night, so the more times we were seen together, the more people understood our platonic relationship for what it was. Even with the constant questions of our involvement,
the stream of attention Travis received from his coeds didn't recede.

He continued to sit next to me in History and eat with me at lunch. It didn't take long to realize I had been wrong about him, even finding myself defensive toward those that didn't know Travis the way that I did.

In the cafeteria, Travis set a can of orange juice in front of me.

“You didn't have to do that. I was going to grab one,” I said, peeling off my jacket.

“Well, now you don't have to,” he said, flashing the dimple on his left cheek.

Brazil snorted. “Did she turn you into a cabana boy, Travis? What's next, fanning her with a palm tree leaf, wearing a Speedo?”

Travis shot him a murderous glare, and I jumped to his defense. “You couldn't fill a Speedo, Brazil. Shut the hell up.”

“Easy, Abby! I was kidding!” Brazil said, holding up his hands.

“Just…don't talk about him like that,” I said, frowning.

Travis' expression was a mixture of surprise and gratitude. “Now I've seen it all. I was just defended by a girl,” he said, standing up. Before he left with his tray, he offered one more warning glare to Brazil, and then walked outside to stand with a small group of fellow smokers outside the building.

I tried not to watch him while he laughed and talked. Every girl in the group subtly competed for the space next to him, and America shoved her elbow
in my ribs when she noticed my attention was elsewhere.

“Whatcha lookin' at, Abby?”

“Nothing. I'm not looking at anything.”

She rested her chin on her hand and shook her head. “They're so obvious. Look at the redhead. She's run her fingers through her hair as many times as she's blinked. I wonder if Travis gets tired of that.”

Shepley nodded. “He does. Everyone thinks he's this asshole, but if they only knew how much patience he has dealing with every girl that thinks she can tame him…He can't go anywhere without them bugging him. Trust me; he's much more polite than I would be.”

“Oh, like you wouldn't love it,” America said, kissing his cheek.

Travis was finishing his cigarette outside the cafeteria when I passed. “Wait up, Pidge. I'll walk you.”

“You don't have to walk me to every class, Travis. I know how to get there on my own.”

Travis was easily sidetracked by a girl with long black hair and a short skirt. She walked by, smiling at him. He followed her with his eyes and nodded in the girl's direction, throwing down his cigarette.

“I'll catch up with you later, Pidge.”

“Yeah,” I said, rolling my eyes as he jogged to the girl's side.

Travis' seat remained empty during class, and I found myself a bit irritated with him for missing over a girl he didn't know. Professor Chaney dismissed early, and I hurried across the lawn, aware that I was to meet Finch at three to give him Sherri
Cassidy's Music Appreciation notes. I looked at my watch and quickened my pace.

“Abby?”

Parker jogged across the grass to walk beside me. “I don't think we've officially met,” he said, holding out his hand. “Parker Hayes.”

I took his hand and smiled. “Abby Abernathy.”

“I was behind you when you got your Bio test grade. Congratulations,” he smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Thanks. Travis helped, or I would've been at the bottom of that list, trust me.”

“Oh, are you guys…?”

“Friends.”

Parker nodded and smiled. “Did he tell you there's a party at the House this weekend?”

“We mostly just talk about Biology and food.”

Parker laughed. “That sounds like Travis.”

At the door of Morgan Hall, Parker scanned my face with his big green eyes. “You should come. It'll be fun.”

“I'll talk to America. I don't think we have any plans.”

“Are you a package deal?”

“We made a pact this summer. No parties solo.”

“Smart.” He nodded in approval.

“She met Shep at orientation, so I haven't really had to tag along with her much. This will be the first time I've needed to ask her, so I'm sure she'll be happy to come.” I inwardly cringed. Not only was I babbling, I'd made it obvious that I didn't get asked to parties.

“Great. I'll see you there,” he said. He flashed his perfect Banana Republic model smile with his square jaw and naturally tan skin, turning to walk across campus.

I watched him walk away; he was tall, clean-shaven, with a pressed pin-striped dress shirt and jeans. His wavy dark blond hair bounced when he walked.

I bit my lip, flattered by his invitation.

“Now he's more your speed,” Finch said in my ear.

“He's cute, huh?” I asked, unable to stop smiling.

“Hell, yes. In that preppy, missionary-position kind of way.”

“Finch!” I cried, smacking him on the shoulder.

“Did you get Sherri's notes?”

“I did,” I said, pulling them from my bag. He lit a cigarette, held it between his lips, and squinted at the papers.

“Fucking brilliant,” he said, scanning the pages. He folded them away in his pocket, and then took another drag. “Good thing Morgan's boilers are out. You'll need a cold shower after getting ogled by that tall drink of water.”

“The dorm doesn't have hot water?” I wailed.

“That's the word,” Finch said, sliding his backpack over his shoulder. “I'm off to Algebra. Tell Mare I said not to forget me this weekend.”

“I'll tell her,” I grumbled, glaring up the antique brick walls of our dormitory. I stomped up to my room, pushed through my door, and let my backpack fall to the floor.

“No hot water,” Kara mumbled from her side of the desk.

“I heard.”

My cell phone buzzed and I clicked it open, reading a text message from America cursing the boilers. A few moments later there was a knock on the door.

America walked in and plopped onto my bed, arms crossed. “Can you believe this shit? How much are we paying and we can't even take a hot shower?”

Kara sighed. “Stop whining. Why don't you just stay with your boyfriend? Haven't you been staying with him, anyway?”

America's eyes darted in Kara's direction. “Good idea, Kara. The fact that you're a total bitch comes in handy sometimes.”

Kara kept her eyes on her computer monitor, unfazed by America's jab.

America pulled out her cell phone and clicked out a text message with amazing precision and speed. Her cell phone chirped, and she smiled at me. “We're staying with Shep and Travis until they fix the boilers.”

“What? I'm not!” I cried.

“Oh, yes you are. There's no reason for you to be stuck here freezing in the shower when Travis and Shep have two bathrooms at their place.”

“I wasn't invited.”

“I'm inviting you. Shep already said it was fine. You can sleep on the couch…if Travis isn't using it.”

“And if he's using it?”

America shrugged. “Then you can sleep in Travis' bed.”

“No way!”

She rolled her eyes. “Don't be such a baby, Abby. You guys are friends, right? If he hasn't tried anything by now, I don't think he will.”

Her words made my open mouth snap shut. Travis had been around me in one way or another every night for weeks. I had been so occupied with making sure everyone knew we were just friends, it hadn't occurred to me that he really was interested only in friendship. I wasn't sure why, but I felt insulted.

Kara looked at us with disbelief. “Travis Maddox hasn't tried to sleep with you?”

“We're friends!” I said in a defensive tone.

“I know, but he hasn't even tried? He's slept with everyone.”

“Except us,” America said, looking her over. “And you.”

Kara shrugged. “Well, I've never met him. I've just heard.”

“Exactly,” I snapped. “You don't even know him.”

Kara returned to her monitor, oblivious to our presence.

I sighed. “All right, Mare. I need to pack.”

“Make sure you pack for a few days: Who knows how long it will take them to fix the boilers?” she said, entirely too excited.

Dread settled over me as if I were about to sneak into enemy territory. “Ugh … all right.”

America bounced when she hugged me. “This is going to be so fun!”

Half an hour later we loaded down her Honda and headed for the apartment. America hardly took a breath between ramblings as she drove. She honked her horn as she slowed to a stop in her usual parking
space. Shepley jogged down the steps and pulled both of our suitcases from the trunk, following us up the stairs.

“It's open,” he puffed.

America pushed the door and held it open. Shepley grunted when he dropped our luggage to the floor. “Christ, baby! Your suitcase is twenty more pounds than Abby's!”

America and I froze when a woman emerged from the bathroom, buttoning her blouse.

“Hi,” she said, surprised. Her mascara-smeared eyes examined us before settling on our luggage. I recognized her as the leggy brunette Travis had followed from the cafeteria.

America glared at Shepley.

He held up his hands. “She's with Travis!”

Travis rounded the corner in a pair of boxer shorts and yawned. He looked at his guest and then patted her backside. “My company's here. You'd better go.”

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him, kissing his neck. “I'll leave my number on the counter.”

“Eh…don't worry about it,” Travis said in a casual tone.

“What?” she asked, leaning back to look in his eyes.

“Every time!” America said. She looked at the woman. “How are you surprised by this? He's Travis Fucking Maddox! He is famous for this very thing, and every time they're surprised!” she said, turning to Shepley. He put his arm around her, gesturing for her to calm down.

The girl narrowed her eyes at Travis and then grabbed her purse and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Travis walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge as if nothing had happened.

America shook her head and walked down the hall. Shepley followed her, angling his body to compensate for the weight of her suitcase as he trailed behind.

I collapsed against the recliner and sighed, wondering if I was crazy for agreeing to come. I didn't realize Shepley's apartment was a revolving door for clueless bimbos.

Travis stood behind the breakfast bar, crossed his arms over his chest, and smiled. “What's wrong, Pidge? Hard day?”

“No, I'm thoroughly disgusted.”