Read Hope for Her (Hope #1) Online

Authors: Sydney Aaliyah Michelle

Hope for Her (Hope #1) (3 page)

BOOK: Hope for Her (Hope #1)
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I smiled at him, and he smiled back. How long would we sit here staring at each other before one of us looked away? Maybe he would work up the nerve to come and talk to me.

The prospect of both made my heart rate increase.

He wore an oversized black t-shirt, black cargo shorts, and black tennis shoes. The baggy clothes hid his size, but his biceps filled out his shirt fine. His pale skin made his brown eyes standout. Every guy in Florida wore muscles and a tan like a uniform. I preferred tan, but my admirer's skin made him unique. I liked that, too.

As we continued our cross-campus stare off, I studied subtle changes in his facial expressions. He went from shocked to content. His eyes smiled, and the angle of his head denoted a hint of lust, as his gaze scanned me up and down. As disappointment crossed his face, I heard Melinda call my name. Our little game was over.

"Carr, are you coming to class or you going to sit here all day?"

"Oh, um, yeah, I'm coming." I gathered my bag, stood up, and swung it over my shoulder. I moved slow, backing up a few steps, not wanting our staring contest to end. He remained leaning up against the wall, making no attempt to approach. I shrugged, turned around, and went to class. When I reached the door, I looked back, and caught a hint of his face staring at me and smiled, but with all the other students entering the building, I lost him. I let out a heavy sigh and headed to class.

After class, I half expected to see my mystery guy leaning against the wall in the quad in the same spot waiting for me to exit the building.

"Carr, what's wrong? You look like you’re waiting for someone," Jessica said.

"No. I’m fine. "

I followed her to the student union.

"So, Carrington, we need to find you a guy!" We took a seat after grabbing lunch. In the last two weeks, Jessica and I never found ourselves alone together. In our room, Melinda kind of ruled the roost.

"I don't know," I said and took a big bite of my sandwich hoping to avoid the follow-up questions.

"What was your last boyfriend like? You dated him for two years, right?" Jessica asked.

"Yeah, he was a jock. Wide receiver for our team."

"He any good?"

"He got recruited by a lot of teams and went to UT Austin."

"I wasn't talking about his playing skills," Jessica insinuated.

"Oh." I blushed.

"How did it end?"

"We didn't want to do the long distance things. We're still friends." I left out the part where, up until graduation, he thought I was following him to UT.

I took out my phone and showed her a photo of Matt. His brown hair and dark eyes made him appear sexy and mysterious. He was neither of those things.

"He's really cute," she said and passed my phone back. "You only date white guys?"

I stared at her to make sure I understood her question or her intention behind the question.

"I don't only date white guys." My eyes narrowed and I sat on my hands to stop fidgeting.

Jessica frowned and fiddled with her earring. "I didn't mean anything by it. I was just curious. Have you ever dated a black guy?"

"Have you ever dated a black guy?" I countered.

"I have. In fact, if I wasn’t so perfectly happy with my perfect boyfriend, I’d be all over those guys.” She nodded at a couple of tall muscular black guys walking into the student union. She smiled, and they smiled back. I shoved a piece of turkey in my mouth and waited for her to finish, praying the guys wouldn't take her smile as an invitation.

"Well, since you don't care, I know a lot of guys from my boyfriend's fraternity. I could set you up."

"I don't know, Jess." I shook my head. "I'm not looking for someone. I want to have fun."

"Okay, have fun, but it's nice to have a go-to when needed."

Her whole body shook when she laughed. I joined in on the chuckle, even though I didn't get the joke.

 

 

Chapter Three

 

Carrington Olivia Butler

As the undisputed leader of our little three-person suite, Melinda declared Wednesday night
Desperate Housewives
night. I attempted to sneak out as everyone arrived.

"Carrington, where are you going?" Melinda asked.

I almost made a clean break.

"I'm sorry, but I have study group on Wednesday nights."

"Oh, you're going to miss all the fun." She wrapped her arms around me and patted me on the head. I turned as soon as she let me go.

I liked my roommates, but all the togetherness made me claustrophobic. Tonight, I needed space.

I headed to the library as the sun set. In September, the heat stayed in the air. The library A/C worked overtime, and I got into a habit of carrying a large sweater with me everywhere I went.

I found an empty room near the back of the building—few people used this part of the library. I selected a table near the window and set my bag down.

I had started unpacking my bag and organizing my stuff when he walked in.

No, not
him
, but another him.

He might be the quad guy’s exact opposite. For starters, he was tall and muscular. Not the bodybuilder type muscles, but more lean and athletic. I bet he played football. He had short-cropped brown hair underneath a visor, which he wore backwards. His garnet t-shirt had
Florida Athletic Department
printed across the front. His shirt fit his muscular frame, but his baggy athletic shorts swung as he walked. He seemed surprised to see me but smiled and went to his seat.

I watched him for a minute, but then went back to my book.

Goosebumps popped out all over my body from the A/C being on full blast; I grabbed my sweater and pulled it on. At the same time, he pulled a sweatshirt out of his backpack and pulled it over his head. We both stopped and stared. He chuckled, which made me smile and giggle.

"It gets crazy cold in here," he said.

"Yeah, I can't image what the electricity bill must be like for this place." I put my head down.

I sounded like an idiot.

"Yeah, but we're paying for it, so I guess they don't care."

"Right." I stared at his beautiful smile, his perfect teeth, and his amazing full lips. His intimidating size contrasted with his kind, gentle, blue eyes.

"My name’s Jackson Mitchell," he stated as he stood up and walked over to the seat across from me.

"Carrington Butler."

He held out his hand, and I admired his long fingers a second too long before taking it. I willed myself to stop sweating.

"Carrington, that's a cool name."

"Thanks." I pushed my hair behind my ear and looked down at my book.

"You don't like it."

My head snapped up.

"No. I do, but everyone wants to shorten it, and there's no good nickname. People end up calling me Car."

"Well, what's your middle name?"

"Olivia."

He laughed out loud.

"COB." Jackson's laugh echoed around the room.

"Shh," I said, not wanting to get kicked out, but he kept laughing. "Yeah, my parents were clueless."

I left out the part about my parents not putting much effort into anything when it came to me.

"Can I call you corn?" he said trying to avoid another laughing fit. "As in on the cob."

"It's not that funny, and no you can't call me corn."

"I like Carrington. It sounds aristocratic-y," he said. "Is that a word?"

"Like a character on
Downton Abbey
or something." I smiled.

"I tried watching that show, but I couldn't understand what they were saying."

"Hmm, yeah, English can be hard for some people."

His whole body smiled, and I could tell he liked me teasing him. A flash of something happened between us. It made me catch my breath, and my cheeks grew warm, but as quick as it appeared, it disappeared.

"I better let you get back to studying." He stood up and went back to his end of the table.

I turned back to my book. Maybe he had a girlfriend or I misinterpreted his flirting. I bit my lip and tried to concentrate on the words on the page.

I tried my best to ignore him, even though the hair on the back of my neck stood up when I thought about his smile. When I looked over at him, his focus remained on his book.

After an hour, he received a phone call and packed up his books to leave.

He walked over and stood in front of me until I looked up.

"Carrington," he started and leaned over the table with his phone in his hand. "We're having a party at my frat house on Thursday. Our parties are pretty epic, you should come. Give me your number and I'll text you the details."

I took his phone and put my name and number in it and handed it back to him. He turned and left the room without another word.

No longer in the mood for studying, I grabbed my stuff and left. When I stepped out of the library, my phone beeped.

I pulled it out of my bag.

Jackson: Nice meeting you, (photo of a piece of corn)

I programmed his number in my phone and grinned all the way back to the dorm.

***

Joshua Elijah Griffin, IV

I limited my exposure to the brothers as a group for a whole week, but I was required to attend the weekly fraternity meeting. I could hear Jackson’s voice in my head reminding me, "It's mandatory."

I walked into the theater, and one hundred pairs of eyes landed on me. My eyes darted around, searching for Jackson; a familiar face in the sea of judgment. James Randolph, the current fraternity president, walked toward me with his hand extended.

When I arrived, Randolph called me into the kitchen for a private meeting. His tone was respectful, but I got the impression he didn't want me here. This public display was different. It gave the other brothers direction on how to treat me.

"Brother Josh, welcome." The formal way of addressing each other was reserved for official meetings.

"Brother James."

"Welcome to PKP at FSU."

"FSU," the rest of the brothers belted it out like a Marine platoon shouting ‘Oorah’, another PKP tradition.

"Please have a seat." He motioned to a chair at the front of the room facing the rest of the brothers. If he meant for me to feel intimidated, it worked.

"Brothers, I want to welcome our Brother Joshua Elijah Griffin, IV. As you know, the Griffins are founding members of PKP, and we owe this brother our support and our respect."

"Even if he did spend a year at FU,” Dan, one of the brothers, said with a smirked. The room snickered, and a few laughed out loud.

"Now Brothers, settle down." James turned to face me. "Momentary lapse in judgment. It won't happen again, right Brother Josh?"

"Won't happen again, Brothers," I said to the crowd and found Jackson near the back of the room, shaking his head.

"That's good enough for me." He turned back towards the brothers challenging them to contradict him.

No one did.

"Brother Josh welcome to FSU," Brother Dan said.

"FSU," the room shouted.

"Welcome to FSU." Another brother walked over and shook my hand.

"FSU," the room shouted, again.

The welcome ritual continued for another ten rounds until the officers declared their commitment to my new beginning.

The meeting continued with the officers sharing upcoming rush and other fraternity events.

Everyone said the right things and behaved in an appropriate manner, and it made me more apprehensive.

The meeting adjourned and everyone took off in different directions. As I headed up to my room, Jackson called my name.

"Josh."

I stopped on the stairs. "A few of us are heading out to The Circle. You should come."

"I'm pretty tired. I need to get some sleep."

"Okay," Jackson said. He furrowed his brow and turned to head out the door with two other brothers.

God, I envy Jackson.

Jackson fit in, always comfortable in any and every situation with no effort.

I headed to my room. I took a shower and collapsed into bed. I tried to sleep, but I wanted a drink. I wanted a smoke. I wanted more than anything to pass out and start again, tomorrow.

It scared me. This felt all too familiar. A year ago when I arrived on FU campus, I had this same feeling—out of control—and had no clue what to do with myself.

As the house grew quiet, my anxiety increased. I got up, got dressed, and went for a walk. As I reached the end of the block, I hesitated. One thing with being so familiar with this campus and this town was that I knew where to go to get into trouble. I went to take a step in the wrong direction when he called my name for the second time tonight.

"Josh, you decided to come out." Jackson approached with two other brothers trailing behind.

I waited for him to catch up with me. My eyes avoided his inspection.

He cleared his throat.

"We're heading back to the house to shoot some pool. Join us." The other brothers headed to the house while Jackson stood next to me, waiting for me to make a decision.

"You coming?" Jackson asked. The way he said it sounded more like a statement—a command, not a question.

I sighed, shoved my hands in my pockets, and headed back to the house with the guys. We played pool, and I distracted myself enough and tried not to think how I dodged a bullet, this time.

 

 

Chapter Four

 

Joshua Elijah Griffin, IV

I woke up the next day, relieved and looking forward to another day on campus to search for my girl. It had been two days, and I needed the distraction.

"Dude, you should have spoken to her when you had the chance," Jackson said as we headed to campus for class.

"I told you; this isn't the type of girl you walk up to and start a conversation."

"How are you supposed to meet her?" Jackson asked. "Sing her a song, recite poetry in the middle of the quad."

"No, that would embarrass her." He didn't understand.

"How do you know? You don't even know this girl."

BOOK: Hope for Her (Hope #1)
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