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Authors: Monica Alexander

Only With You (30 page)

BOOK: Only With You
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I had so many things going for me at UF, including the fact that
I really liked Gainesville and being a Gator. These were all things I’d put in the con column when I’d thought about transferring. And there was just one thing in the pro column – Sydney.

“Mr. Thompson,” the advisor said when I hadn’t responded.

“Huh?” I said oh-so-eloquently as I looked up at him.

He steepled his fingers under his chin. “What can I do for you?”

I cleared my throat, buying time, because once I said this, it would be out there.

I hadn’t told Jake. I hadn’t told Trey. I hadn’t told my mom. No one knew. Truth be told, I was afraid if any of them knew, they’d talk me out of this decision. Was I wrong? I wasn’t sure. I was usually the most level-headed guy in most room
s, but sometime in the past six weeks, because that’s how long Sydney Chase had officially been my girlfriend, I’d completely lost my shit.

My grades were fine, and I was acting normal to the outside world, but inside, I was thrashing violently against the urge to drop out of school and join my very hot, very successful, sexy-as-hell girlfriend on her worldwide tour.

It was insane. I couldn’t do that. I had goals. I wanted to be a lawyer and save the planet. I couldn’t do that without a college education, and I sure as hell couldn’t do that if I dropped out. Besides, I was not going to live off of Sydney, and I only had like a hundred and fifty dollars to my name. That wouldn’t last me long.

Thankfully I hadn’t gone too far over the edge. But I was
at the point where I was looking at other options to ease some of the internal turmoil I was experiencing.

“I’d like to look into transferring to UCLA?” I finally told the advisor, not sure why it came out as a question.

Okay, I knew. It was because it was such a huge decision, but a long distance relationship was no bueno. By transferring I’d be doing what I could to make my life – and my relationship with Sydney – more manageable. Syd lived in L.A. I did not. I was going to fix that.

Of course
there was one small problem I still had to face. I pretty much had a full-ride to the University of Florida via a partial academic scholarship and other smaller scholarships and grants. I did not have a full-ride to UCLA, and it would cost me roughly $35,000 a year to go there. That was a big difference, and my parents didn’t have the money to be able to afford to pay for me either. I was already prepared to take out loans for law school, but undergrad hadn’t been worked into my financial plan. It was a bit of a sticking point, but it wasn’t causing me to back out of the idea completely.

The advisor was looking at me like I was a few grapes short of a fruit salad. I hoped he didn’t ask me why I wanted to transfer, because I knew just how lame ‘my girlfriend lives there’ would sound. Of course, he didn’t know Syd, so he couldn’t really weigh in on how lame my decision truly was.

“Mr. Thompson, you do realize that it’s June,” he said instead.

“Yes, sir,” I said, wondering if he was joking. I wasn’t a moron.
I knew what the date was.

He started typing things into his computer. I waited.

“The application deadline for UCLA was November 30
th
.”

“Oh.”
Shit.
“Okay, so what does that mean? I can’t start in the fall?”

Sydney would be on tour during September and October. I’d see her in July and August between breaks in semesters, and then she was coming to my parents’ house for Thanksgiving. I could also probably convince her to come visit me for a week in early November. Then I’d be on winter break halfway through December, so maybe I could push this off until January.

“Not this fall,” he said crisply.

“Okay, so
I’ll transfer in the spring then. I’ll get all of my paperwork in by the 30
th
. Done.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible Mr. Thompson.”

I really hated that he kept calling me Mr. Thompson, and I wasn’t sure why.

“Uh, why not?”

“UCLA doesn’t allow students to start in the spring or summer semesters. You’d have to wait until next fall.”

What are ‘Things I should have looked into first before making this appointment for two-hundred’
, please Alex.

“Next fall! That’s insane!”

My voice was doing that high thing again that made me sound like a screechy girl.

“I don’t make the rules,” the advisor said, obviously not impressed with my reaction.

“But I got accepted when I was in high school. Doesn’t that count for something?” I asked hopefully.

The advisor shook his head
. “No, unfortunately, since you’re now considered a junior, transferring is your only option. But you could look into that for next fall if you wanted.”

I felt my shoulders slump. “I’ll be a senior next fall,” I
grumbled.

I understood how detrimental it would be to transfer as a senior. I could lose credits, my graduation date would be pushed back, not to mention it was over a year away.
It wouldn’t do shit to help my current situation.

“What about USC?” I asked, imaging how much more expensive it would be to go there.

He typed some things on his keyboard again and then shook his head. “They don’t accept students for spring semester unless you’ve already been accepted for the previous fall, and the deadline to apply was December 1
st
.”

Son of a bitch!

“Okay, well, thank you for your time, I guess,” I mumbled as I got up to leave.

“Mr. Thompson,” the advisor called out as my fingers wrapped around the doorknob.

“Yeah?” I said, looking over my shoulder at him.

“You’re obviously a bright young man, and your grade point average shows that you have excelled during your time here. If you continue on this same path, you’ll graduate with top honors. I know things come up in life that make us think the grass might be greener elsewhere, but it’s not always the case. If you’re intent on moving to Los Angeles, there are many other schools
you could consider, but I wouldn’t be so quick to give up what you have here.”

I nodded, knowing he was right. I’d purposefully set myself up to be able to get into a variety of law schools. If my LSAT score was high enough, I’d have my choice of where I’d want to go. Why was I so okay with jeopardizing that?

I was a love-struck moron. That’s why.

I started to sweat again once I got outside
, the heat washing over me along with the frustration I felt. I ran a hand back through my hair and looked around the campus as I settled into the fact that I would be there for the next two years. And I was good with that for a lot of reasons, and in truth, the parting words the advisor had left with me made sense. But they didn’t fix my current problem. I wasn’t exactly sure what to do about that now.

Realizing that
I was close enough to The Swamp to walk there, I called Jake.

“Hey,” I said glumly when he answered.

“What’s up, dude?” he said sleepily. It figured he’d be napping.

“You want to get beers?”

“Sure.”

“Good deal. Meet me at
The Swamp.”

“On my way.”

No questions necessary. That’s why I loved Jake at times like this.

* * *

Several hours and several Coronas later, I was loose-lipped and chatty.

“I trie
d to transfer today,” I told Jake.

He paused, beer at his lips
, and eyed me with raised eyebrows. “Tell me you’re fucking with me.”

I shook my head and finished off my fifth beer. “Nope. I tried, and I failed.”

I proceeded to tell him everything the advisor had told me.

“Okay,” he said, once I was finished
, seeming entirely flummoxed by the whole notion the I was willing to transfer schools to be closer to Sydney. “But listen, I know you think this is it, that you guys will be together forever, but you’re
twenty!
Er, I mean you’re twenty-one.”

He’d obviously realized the error of his ways, but thankfully there were no door guys or managers around to hear his slip up. Neither of us wanted to get kicked out or have our excellent fake IDs confiscated. And if caught by a cop for underage drinking in Gainesville, we’d be arrested. Not what I needed on my record, thank you very much.

“Nice save,” I muttered, wondering if we shouldn’t just venture back to the house. Or maybe a big fat cheeseburger and another bucket of Coronas would round out the evening nicely. I grabbed the menu the waitress had left on the table. “I’m hungry.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said as
I looked around for our waitress.

“What’s there to say,” I said, shrugging. “I know this is it. I’ve known her more than half my life, and I love her. She’s the girl for me. End of story.”

“Yeah, but you’ve been dating for like five minutes,” Jake rationalized. “What if it doesn’t work out?”

“It will,” I said confidently, because I knew it would. We were both willing to fight like hell to overcome any adversity that came our way.

“I hope it does, man,” Jake said seriously. “But you’ve got to be realistic. Transferring schools might end up being a huge mistake.”

“Well, then, it’s a good thing I’m not transferring then.”

I looked around for our waitress again, but I didn’t see her anywhere. I did, however, see Kirsten and Kyla and immediately swiveled back around and slunk down in my seat. It’s not like Jake and I weren’t completely conspicuous or anything sitting outside, visible for anyone to see us, especially annoying ex-girlfriends who were entering the fenced-in outside area of the restaurant at that moment. I just hoped Kirsten wouldn’t see me if I ducked down and hid behind my menu.


Kirsten and Kyla are here,” I said out of the side of my mouth, lest they hear me from fifteen feet away.

“Ah, fuck,” Jake grumbled, cupping his hand
over his eyes in an ‘If I can’t see you, so you obviously can’t see me’ gesture.

We were apparently masters of stealth. But
I knew he wasn’t in the mood to see Kyla since things with her had blown up in his face the week before. And knowing the story, I reasoned to believe that hiding was probably in his best interest. He’d essentially dated, or rather screwed, her for about eight days before he blew her off. Rumor was that while I’d been gone, she’d shown up at the house and lost her shit on Jake, crying and blubbering and begging him to be her boyfriend in front of a decent amount of people. Then when Trey and Alec had finally convinced her to go home, after Jake barricaded himself in our room, she’d stormed out with tears streaming down her face, screaming obscenities, cursing Jake to the high heavens and flipping the bird over her shoulder. Then she’d called his cell phone several times, screaming in his ear each time he answered. Why he kept answering was beyond me, but Jake was sometimes a mystery wrapped in a riddle coated in idiot sauce, so I didn’t always question his behavior. I just accepted what he told me and went with it.

“Do they see us?” he asked, still hiding behind his hand.

“Yup.” I peeked over my shoulder. “They’re coming over here,” I sing-songed when I saw Kirsten point at me and wave.

Being the polite guy I was, I smiled back.
I never should have done that.

“Hi boys,”
Kirsten said as she plunked down in the chair next to me.

“Hey
Kirsten. Hey Kyla,” I mumbled, wishing I would have suggested leaving when I’d thought about it five minutes earlier.

“I’m going to the bar,” Jake grumbled, getting up without saying a wor
d to either girl as he left me alone with them. Chicken-shit jerk.

I glanced
at Kyla who was trying to look like she didn’t care, but it wasn’t really working for her.

“So
how have you been, Ryder Thompson?” Kirsten asked, her hand resting on my shoulder in a playful, borderline flirty way.

I fought the urge to shrug it off. I found it equally annoying that she was touching me, but I also wasn’t a fan of the fact that she liked to call me by my first and last name. It was oddly formal and intimate at the same time.

“Great. How are you?” I asked tightly.

I took a long swig of my beer as she removed her hand from my shoulder and moved it to toss her long blond hair over her shoulder.

“Just okay, I guess. My boyfriend and I broke up. He was a senior, and he moved to Chicago for a job, so there really wasn’t any point in staying together. Long distance never works out.”

Sometimes it does.

“That’s too bad,” I said, aiming for friendly indifference.

My phone chose that moment to ding, alerting m
e of a text message. It was the time of the night that Syd was in between her meet-and-greet and her show. We’d been texting earlier – just mindless conversation that helped ease the ache of not being able to see each other – and she let me know she’d text again when she was done meeting her fans. And after her show we had a Face Time date planned.

BOOK: Only With You
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ads

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