Never (15 page)

Blake pushed into the building, looking as crappy as I felt. He pulled off his shades, bags dark underneath bloodshot eyes, beer wafting from him like body spray. When our eyes met, he tilted his head in acknowledgement, moving between the current, ignoring the crinkled noses. A flash of wariness cut through me and I wondered if he was going to get into it with me. We hadn't talked since the party when I punched him in the face.

When he got within fighting range, I gave him a look that cemented him in place. "Not today."

He shook his head, his face more serious than I was used to seeing. "What happened was..." He paused, his expression reverting to the guy I knew who was rarely serious. "I owe you one and lets just leave it at that."

I could have held onto the anger, but I was too fucking exhausted. Truth was, I didn't want to fight him. Blake could be an asshole, but I knew his heart was in the right place. He didn't get that I loved Juliet and that our breakup had nothing in common with his usual scene. When he ended things with a girl, he just picked up the next one in the row. He trash talked the girl and kept it moving. He pretended they meant nothing. But I couldn't pretend that Juliet meant nothing to me even if I wanted to.

"We good?" He asked, his voice hopeful.

I breathed in. Out. He drove me crazy, but I couldn't ask for a more loyal friend.

"Yeah," I smirked, feeling the smallest bit of happiness since everything went to shit. I clearly didn't have a girl. I could use a friend. "We're good."

He pounded my fist, letting out a baritone chuckle. "You escorting me into the room? How sweet."

The last stragglers walked past us into the classroom.

She wasn't coming.

I wanted to make a joke, shrug off this latest obstacle just like every other thing that sprung up and kept us apart, but I didn't trust my voice. I felt like any word that came out would crack and shatter into a million pieces.

"You were waiting for her, weren't you?"

I swallowed hard and nodded.

"And she didn't show up." He didn't wait for me to answer. "You're doing this all wrong."

Wow. That ceasefire thing didn't even last five minutes. "I'm not gonna get into it with you—"

"Relax," he said calmly, tugging his ballcap at the sides and giving me thoughtful look. "I'm not about to trash your girl."

My eyebrows arched in surprise. "You're not?"

"Nope," he said smoothly. A little too smoothly. He had the same look he wore the first night we met.

It was Hell Week, but there wasn't anything particularly hell-ish about pledging the fraternity. The most absurd thing they'd asked us to do was TP the president's house. Blake had been grumbling about being cheated the fraternity experience when one of the brothers confessed they were on thin ice after an intrepid reporter for Seattle U's newspaper pledged and did an exposé on the worst week of his life. The dean blanched and ordered the frat to tone it down. Blake decided that if they wanted toned down, he'd give them toned down.

Every day for the next week we stood outside the dean’s house and serenaded him with hymns about fire and brimstone; sins and redemption. We were several weeks behind the other Greeks on campus, but our frat got our Hell Week.

And that reporter hadn’t been far off.

The sparkle in Blake’s eye when he told the brother’s his plan all those years ago was shining like the 4th of July.

I stopped following him. "I have no idea what you have planned, but the answer is no."

He wasn't deterred, striding toward the parking lot. "Trust me, Lucas. It's genius. Girls are going to be saying, 'Why couldn't you pull a McNamara?' All year long. You're raising the bar." He pulled out his keys, jingling them for effect. "You down?"

I eyeballed him. "We're going to your truck?"

"Mmhm."

"And what does that have to do with fixing things with Juliet?"

"I still have some boxes in the back. You're gonna make some sappy sign and then we're heading to her dorm."

"That's just a waste of time," I sighed, hating that a small part of me had been excited. Hopeful. "Campus security is right beside her dorm and her RA is no fan of mine."

"You know what they say about a moving target."

The parking lot stretched out before us, uneventful since it was the lunch hour. Blake's truck was double parked, lights flickering when he unlocked it. He went to the front and I lingered in the back, not excited at the prospect of going through his junk. If I was messy he was a hair's breath from a hoarder.

Blake wielded a Sharpie. "Part one." He opened the back gate on his truck and crushed beer cans rained to the ground. With all the aluminum and takeout bags I had no idea how he knew exactly where to dig and what to throw to pull out some yellowed, cardboard USPS box.

He handed it to me. “Showtime.”

You know what they say about a moving target.

Holy shit.

Blake went to the driver’s side, starting his truck without another word. I still had questions.

“What’s the master plan?”

“Why you asking me?” he said, poking his head out the window. “I’m just the driver.”

This had bad idea written all over it. I could picture Blake shooting over the speedbumps, campus police golf carts hot on our trail.

I looked down at the cardboard. Joking aside, this could just make things worse. Juliet made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with me.

What is she gonna do?
I thought with a bitter laugh.
Break up with you again?

I hopped on the back, uncorking the marker. I didn’t have that much space to work with, but that wasn't a problem. I only had one thing to say.

I’m sorry.

The words were thick and dark against the cardboard and I went over it a second time, wanting to make sure she could read it from her window.

The wind shouted down my nerves and I gripped the sign so tight I was surprised it didn't disintegrate. I wanted to feel my best friend’s optimism. That she'd see this gesture as crazy, but in the most romantic way. The tightness in my chest was a product of the worry that she'd just see it as crazy.

Her dorm was in front of us. My eyes shot up midbuilding, wondering what she was doing. I willed her to stop what she was doing and come to the window.

When Blake hopped the curve, tires slapping the courtyard as he parked squarely in front of the building, it hit me that we were missing an important piece of the puzzle. We were here, but how could we actually get her attention, short of Blake laying on the horn?

The intro to some intensely sweet song the radio played to death answered my question, shouting from the speakers. I didn't know what was more bizarre: that Blake just had that song readily accessible or that my heart thumped damn near out of my chest. I ignored the nerves, raising the sign above my head.

Windows opened, one after the other as girls peered out at us, smiling and awwws and some holding their cells, recording the display. But none of the faces was hers. The one person that I wanted to notice was nowhere to be seen.

I glanced to my right, Blake standing beside me. He gave me a nervous shrug. "Maybe you should have text first."

Yeah...that would have guaranteed that she stayed far away. That or campus police would have been waiting.

I gave one last look at the building, the soaring feeling in my chest now grounded. Sober.

I met Blake's eyes, silently asking, begging him not to rub this in. I mean I was a walking joke, standing on a truck, waiting for someone that wasn't coming.

The damage was done, and it was time to go.

Blake gave me a nod, for once not making this worse and keeping his joke to himself. "Let's get out of here." He stopped midturn, the solemn look on his face evaporating.

He was looking at the entrance.

I turned back.

Juliet.

She stood in the center of a group of girls, all giggling and snapping pictures. She was in a plain white t-shirt and jeans, looking like the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

She started in the direction of the truck, her dark eyes bulging. Lips parted, hair hanging in dark, wet ringlets around her face.

I dropped the sign, opening the back gate and practically surfing on the sea of beer cans to make my way to her. Blake killed the music. My heartbeat roared in my ear.

She looked at the ground, then slowly met my gaze. "Lucas...what is this?"

I managed to smile, even though I was more nervous than I'd ever been. "This? Ugh—" I looked over my shoulder at Blake. He sprung into action, saving the sign from the aluminum crush.

"I saw the sign," she said softly. "I’m—you’re sorry."

She didn't sound nearly convinced of it, so I said it for the umpteenth time. I'd say it as many times as I had to. "I'm sorry."

The whispers heightened, words like ‘sweet’ and ‘romantic’ coming through loud and clear. But I couldn't read Juliet. Her eyes, her body language was as silent as the conversation between us.

I took a step toward her. She didn't move away.

"So I know what they think," I began, trying to get a read on her. "What are you thinking?"

She bit her lip, a rosy pink blooming in her cheeks. "I can't believe you're parked in front of my dorm."

I still couldn't tell if she loved or absolutely hated it, so I erred on the side of caution.  "I know this is kind of extreme, but I just wanted to see you. I know that's selfish, but you have to understand something. I've never felt this way about anyone. You consume me, Juliet."

Her eyes flickered, the flush spreading her to neck. Her beautiful, swan-like neck. Fuck caution. I needed to touch her. I had to touch her.

My thumb grazed the nape of her neck and she closed her eyes, like she was committing the touch to memory. I moved even closer, leaving only a whisper between us.

Her nose crinkled. "You've been drinking."

I shook my head effusively. "No, that's Bl—"

"You have a problem with alcohol, Lucas." She interrupted, shaking her head slowly. "Even if I wanted to, I don't have the energy to do this. Not again. I can't save you. I can barely save myself."

I ignored the weight of her words, just trying to make her understand. "With everything going on with you, I had to let you know that I’m not going anywhere." She dropped her chin, shying from me. I gently brought it back up, fingertips lingering. "I'm sorry, Juliet."

Her eyes connected with mine and everything hung on her next words. She brought a hand to my cheek, mouth upturned and lips calling to me.

"Lucas..."

“You remember what I said? I meant it, Julie. It's me and you. Always.” I moved to kiss her—and she froze up, eyes gazing past me.

I turned, my stomach dropping.

Campus police.

Blake hopped back into the truck. "Kiss and makeup, man—we've gotta get out of here."

I turned back to Juliet. She'd taken two steps back, putting physical distance between us. Her expression told me that emotionally, she was even further away.

"I can't shake this feeling that we're just destined to screw it up, Lucas," she said, tears filling her eyes.

"Lucas!" Blake hollered, beating the side of the door. "Let's  roll!"

I climbed back into the truck, watching her until she became a tiny speck in the distance.

Chapter Eighteen: Juliet

If I needed any other proof that things were all screwed up, Kim's hesitant steps behind me as we marched toward the entrance to Vision nightclub was it. There were three things Kimberly Turnage lived for: fashion, her dreams of becoming a business mogul, and dancing. For the first time ever I was the one dragging
her
to a club.

I forced cheer in my voice as I looped an arm through hers. "Tonight's going to be a great night. I can feel it in my bones!"

Her glossy lips glittered beneath the bright glow of the street lights. "Yeah." She didn't say anything for a few moments, her heels crunching on the gravel. "Juliet, we don't have to do this, you know. We can just talk—"

"Haven't we done enough talking?" I snapped, flipping my dark hair over my shoulder as I disconnected. After Lucas’ display in front of my dorm and our almost kiss, I'd finally talked to her instead of hiding out in the library until I was sure she was asleep. I told her about Fall Break and running into Meghan and reliving the hurt of all my friends abandoning me. And then I told her about Jared and how I snapped and keyed his car and almost cost my mom her job. I finished with coming back to Seattle and running into Candi. Now I could say my unauthorized sex video was a national sensation.

Getting it all out was cathartic and Kim took it all in and made me wish I'd come clean as soon as it happened, reminding me she wasn't going anywhere. Just like Lucas.

You remember what I said? I meant it, Julie. It's me and you. Always.

Kim stopped at the end of the line, her voice lighter, almost camouflaging the undercurrent of worry. "You know me. I won't turn down a chance to put on my heels and shake my ass. But no amount of dancing or drinking will make it all go away."

I gave her a sly grin as I stepped up to security. "We'll see."

The man in front of me was no stranger to the gym. Huge veiny muscles bulged behind a black shirt that was several sizes too small. He looked like he shot protein directly into his veins and when the guy in front of us made a joke, he didn't even crack a grin.

I didn't flirt under normal circumstances and even if I did,this walking, talking Steroids PSA wouldn't be my type. But maybe that was my problem. I listened to my heart—and that had brought me nothing but trouble. I put the inner voice on mute. Everyone already thought that I was a slut. It was time to live up to the label that I couldn’t escape.

"ID," he said gruffly, beady green eyes narrowed on me.

I stuck out my chest, feeling his eyes shift in their direction. That's why I wore this dress after all. The v-neck was low enough that it was somewhere between sexy and slutty. Low enough that eyes would be more concerned with the contours of my breasts than my face.

I held the ID between my pointer and middle finger, batting my eyelashes. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."