Stars (Penmore #1) (7 page)

PARKER

“Okay, so explain to me again why we’re doing this and why am I not at home where I could be laying down and resting my swollen feet?” I ask as we take a seat at a small table in the back of Francesca’s Ristorante
.

“Because this is the best Italian place in town. You never go out, and I’m pretty sure I heard you complaining last shift about having new fancy clothes but working so much you never get to wear them anywhere,” Nate replies as he passes me the menu.

It’s almost annoying how much he listens to the things I say.

Okay, so maybe I
had
been complaining that I had gotten a job so I could buy new clothes. But, now that I have a job, when I’m not working I’m so tired I spend most of my free time wearing my pajamas and taking naps. On the upside, I flipping love naps and my new turquoise onesie. It was covered with skulls and love hearts. Move over kitten clothes; I now work at a shady nightclub and can rock fluffy skulls and love hearts to bed. Yep, I was that sort of badass.

Although some—read: Keeley and Nate—might say I’ve been wearing my rebel outfit too much. This is the first time in the past three weeks I’ve actually left the dorm for something other than classes or work.

Keeley was super upset when I didn’t go with her to the first football game of the season. Mostly, she was frustrated she didn’t have someone to report to her what was happening on the field while she checked out the hot male talent in the stands. Thankfully, she was able to skip the lines and get free entry into Lucky’s after the game, because of my connections, which had filled with nearly the entire football team celebrating their first win. I was thus forgiven for my Saturday indiscretion, even if I was warned that she would have a conniption if I didn’t go to the next one with her.

I knew I should be going out, and that my cute new electric blue dress needed to be seen by more than the moths in my wardrobe. It was still hard to motivate myself to do anything exciting. I probably wouldn’t have even agreed to Nate’s suggestion to visit the intimate little Italian hideaway if he hadn’t bribed me with talking to Marissa about less weekday shifts and more game days. I really preferred to do my school assignments in the evenings rather than trying to manage them on my weekends. If she changed my shifts, I could finally geek out every evening like I was used to; rather than hiding from hot men and trying to dance while serving drinks.

Of course, that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to bust Nate’s balls for finally dragging me away from Netflix and my latest assignment. “Sure you aren’t trying to get into my pants?” I ask, directing the conversation to a topic I know will make me laugh. I can’t help but giggle when Nate puts his menu down to place his hand over his heart and give me his practiced puppy dog eyes.

“This is what is wrong with the world. A guy can’t take a girl out to dinner without his intentions being questioned. It hurts me, Parky, that you think so low of me,” he replies, making his eyes glisten.

Always the Drama major.

“So, you didn’t sleep with the last girl you took here?” I ask cheekily.

I already knew the answer. If I have learned anything from my time at Penmore, it’s that Nate Waters is a player and I was the only girl he wasn’t trying to sleep with. And to think I used to believe that Grayson was bad with the girls always falling at his feet.

He had nothing on his playboy brother.

“Hmm, okay. So the last person I brought here was Taylah-Anne. Oh. Then yeah, I definitely fucked the last girl I brought here. But seriously, she is the president of the
yoga club
. Parky, I’m pretty sure I would have had to hand my man card in if I hadn’t encouraged her to show me her moves.”

“And did she teach you a few things?” I ask, trying to contain my laughter.

“Sadly, I think it was my lack of interest in yoga that ended our budding romance,” he replies, again with dramatic flair, as if heartbroken over the demise of his one-time hook-up.

“Okay, so what’s good here?” I change the subject, ignoring his continued theatrics to focus on the menu.

“The restroom in the back. It’s huge and easily fits three people.”

I give him one of my what-the-fuck looks that I have perfected since living with Keeley.

“Oh, you’re referring to the
food
,” he says smoothly. “I’m a traditionalist, so I always go for pizza.”

“Okay, pizza it is. Although, when Marissa complains about me no longer fitting into her uniform, I’m throwing you under the bus,” I say, deciding I was going to love Francesca’s Ristorante
.
I was already charmed by the restaurant’s little tables, which looked like they belonged on cobbled streets. The red velvet drapes that hung heavily over every large window reminded me of the one’s at the vintage cinemas I cherished back home.

But when the waiter drops complimentary little garlic bread balls on our table, I know I’m head-over-heels for the place. If they have chocolate cake, I might just Google if someone can marry a restaurant; I could easily promise to love, honor and over-pay for garlic bread balls and good chocolate cake.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure she’ll be so angry if you make your ass bigger in those pants. Definitely tell her it was all me. I’ll probably get a raise,” says Nate, his mouth filled with bread.

I decide to ignore his statement, as I never know what to do with anything that even slightly resembles a compliment. Instead, I figure I’ll stick to talking about things I know. “So, how’s school?”

“Actually, pretty good. Never hurts that every time I’m on campus everyone thinks I’m the king of football.”

“And you, of course, never correct them.”

“And lose my adoring fans? Never. The coffee cart girl gave me a free coffee the other day.”

“Seriously?” I ask, staring at Nate with disbelief.

I really shouldn’t be that shocked, having watched all through high school how girls throw themselves at Grayson. But I am. I figured college girls would be a little different. I guess I thought they would be more like me. Too shy to be so forward. Too meek to offer themselves like prized cattle.

“Yep. Apparently, my younger brother doesn’t need to pay for coffee. Or
anything
else
on campus for that matter.”

“Which, of course, means you don’t pay for coffee. Or
anything
else
on campus.”

“I wouldn’t want to hurt the poor girl’s feelings by rejecting her goods.”

I can’t help but giggle at the way Nate is benefiting from his brother’s success. “You are priceless.”

“And for everything else, but coffee girl’s coffee, I plan to use my MasterCard. Anyway, while we’re on the topic of my beloved brother, I don’t suppose you’ve seen him in class yet?”

“He’s meant to be in my sociology class. They call his name when they take attendance, but I haven’t seen him yet.”

“And how are we handling this?” Nate questions carefully.

I wasn’t surprised he asked. I knew it was a matter of time before he would be curious about whether I was still watching Grayson. A few shifts ago, I thought I spotted him in the crowd and totally scurried and hid behind the bar.

Just for future reference, scurrying in six-inch heels around a nightclub, especially one that has a drink or two spilled on its floor isn’t a great idea. There is
nothing
subtle or unassuming about that action.

Thankfully, it turned out not to be him. Another false alarm.

But my ridiculous actions did not go unnoticed by Nate. So of course, he wouldn’t stop grilling me every shift until I finally gave him the story of my life. My hopeless, unrequited love story that started with a baby-crush, which was followed by an unsuccessful introduction, then stealthy admiration from afar, and continues to involve my sad need to be in close proximity to his smiles. Somehow, I had managed to keep my secret from Millie for years, but since coming to Penmore everything seems to be unraveling. I guess I could no longer blame my dad for my weird behavior.

Deep down, I think Millie probably knew I had a crush on Grayson. She never once mentioned hypothetically dating someone on the football team as she sprawled across my bed during high school. Not to mention the bizarre looks she always gave me when I would shut my drapes quickly if she joined me in my room. The amount of people now aware of my pathetic-ness at Penmore, however, was getting ridiculous.

“I’m okay. Apparently, driving hundreds of miles to be in the same town means I don’t need to see him daily anymore.”

“Sure you don’t. But no one would blame you for needing to see him. He
is
unbelievably good-looking.”

“You’re complementing yourself again, aren’t you?”

“
Moi
? Of course not. I was, however, thinking about maybe moving into the ground-floor apartment of my complex. Just in case you began suffering withdrawals and needed to watch me through my window.”

“You are
hilarious
,” I reply sarcastically.

“No? You don’t want to watch me? Parky, I’m a little hurt by that. But on a serious note, future-sister-in-law, I think maybe you should go talk to him in your next class. You talk to me just fine, and he doesn’t even have my piercing green eyes.”

“Oh, good, pizza is here. Let’s just drop it, okay? You know I prefer to be in the background.”

“Parky, one day you’re going to realize that you don’t belong in the background. Also, I know there is no way little brother would be wasting time with Marissa if he thought he had a shot at you.”

“Unfortunately, you’ll never know or get to say ‘I told you so’, because there is no way I’m going to ever talk to him. Now, eat your pizza, Casanova.”

PARKER

My favorite day of the week was Tuesday. The day when I could arrive to class early, before others had a chance to forget pencils and chip packets, and sit by myself amongst the rows of clean, empty chairs. Like church pillars, each timber chair faced toward the pristine whiteboard, where a portly gentlemen would soon stand and captivate his congregation. It was always quiet and peaceful in the minutes before everyone arrived. Since my first lesson in this hall, this room had slowly become my sanctuary. A place that allowed me to worship shared knowledge and wisdom, to feel utterly at peace. It was the first place on campus I have found that didn’t leave me feeling lacking. Since starting at Penmore, even though I told myself I was going to embrace who I’m meant to be, I’ve slowly been trying new things and transforming into someone I barely recognize. My new job means that instead of hiding behind my school work, I’m actually making more friends and building my confidence; sharing parts of myself that I’ve never shared before.

Keeley taught me how to use my straightener to carefully curl my long, frizzy brown hair. With all my new clothes, and learning how to style my hair, I almost feel and look like a different person. As exciting as that was at first, this grand lecture hall reminds me that a big part of who I am doesn’t have anything to do with my looks. I’m still the same girl who would rather read and study than get my nails done. A girl with a thirst for knowledge and a dream of becoming a doctor.

It only takes a few minutes before the grandest lecture hall in Penmore is filled with people today. My lips twitch as I watch them yawning and trying to balance their hot coffees and pastries while maneuvering through the crowd to locate their seats. I’m sitting in the middle of the back row today; granted I usually sit in the back of all my classes every day. It allows me to see the entire whiteboard and silently observe the actions of others. And yeah okay, maybe I knew Grayson was always meant to be in this class, which meant I often hid at the back as a defensive reflex. Not that he had ever bothered to show up. I’ve even dropped my guard a little, given up on catching glimpses of him on campus between classes and needing to hide in the shadows. Forgotten all about that first frat party. It was as if he didn’t attend Penmore at all.

My discreet surveillance of the other students comes to an end the moment the professor sets his bag down and turns to the front of the class. It never took long, sitting in my favorite place, before I was completely engrossed in Professor Gibbons’s discussions. Today, he was chatting animatedly on ethnocentrism and the way glorifying the achievements of our own nation in comparison to others might hinder our society. I was so captivated by his hand gestures and changing tones that I didn’t feel my shoulder brush against another student’s as they sat in the empty seat beside me.