IN CLASS, Hardin takes his seat next to me but doesn’t say a word, not even when, as promised, Landon leaves thirty minutes into class, which suddenly makes me even more aware of Hardin’s presence beside me.
“Monday we begin our weeklong discussion of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice,” Professor Hill announces as class ends. I don’t hide my excitement, and I’m fairly sure that I just let out a squeal. I have read that novel at least ten times and it’s one of my favorites.
Although he hadn’t really said anything to me all during class, Hardin walks up close beside me. I swear I could almost predict what he’s going to say with that deadpan look in his eyes.
“Let me guess, you are just madly in love with Mr. Darcy.”
“Every woman who has read the novel is,” I say without meeting his eyes. We reach the intersection and I look both ways before crossing the street.
“Of course you do,” he laughs, continuing to follow me along the busy sidewalk.
“I’m sure you aren’t able to comprehend Mr. Darcy’s appeal.” My mind goes to the massive collection of novels in Hardin’s room. They couldn’t possibly be his. Could they?
“A man who is rude and intolerable being made into a romantic hero? It’s ridiculous. If Elizabeth had any sense, she would have told him to fuck off from the beginning.”
I laugh at his choice of words but cover my mouth, stopping myself. I was actually enjoying our little banter, and his presence, but it would only be a matter of time—three minutes, if I’m so lucky—until he says something hurtful. Looking up, I meet his dimpled grin and can’t help but admire his good looks. Piercings and all.
“So you do agree that Elizabeth is an idiot?” He raises his eyebrow.
“No, she is one of the strongest, most complex characters ever written,” I say in her defense, using the words from one of my favorite movies.
He laughs again and I join him. But after a few seconds, catching himself having a decent laugh with me, he stops suddenly and his laughter fades. Something flashes in his eyes. “I’ll see you around, Theresa,” he says and turns on his heel and disappears back where we’d come from.
What is with him? Before I can begin to analyze his actions, my phone rings. Noah’s name flashes across my screen and I feel oddly guilty as I answer.
“Hey, Tess, I was going to text you back, but I figured I might as well call.” Noah’s voice is clipped, a bit distant.
“What are you doing? You sound busy.”
“No, just on my way to meet some friends at the grill,” he explains.
“Okay, well, I won’t keep you. I’m so glad it’s Friday. I am ready for the weekend!”
“Are you going to another party? Your mom is still disappointed.”
Wait—why did he mention it to my mother? I love that he has a close relationship with her, but sometimes dating him is like having an annoying little brother who tattles on me. I hate to compare him that way, but it’s true.
Rather than getting into it with him, I just tell him, “No, I’m staying in this weekend. I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Tess. So much. Call me later, okay?”
I agree and we exchange “I love you’s” before hanging up.
WHEN I GET BACK TO MY ROOM, Steph is getting ready for another party, which I assume is the one Molly mentioned at the café. I log into Netflix and browse the movies.
“I really wish you would come. I swear we won’t stay overnight this time. Just come for a little bit. Watching movies alone in this small room will be hell!” Steph whines, and I laugh. She continues to beg me while she teases her hair and changes into three different outfits before deciding on a green dress that leaves very little to the imagination. The crisp color looks really good with her bright red hair, I have to admit. I envy her confidence. I’m confident to a certain extent, but I’m aware that my hips and breasts are larger than most women my age. I tend to wear clothes that hide my large bust, while she tries to draw as much attention as possible to hers.
“I know . . .” I say, humoring her. But then my laptop screen turns black and I press the power button and wait . . . and wait. The black screen remains.
“See! It’s a sign that you should come. My laptop’s at Nate’s apartment, so you can’t use mine.” She smirks and teases her hair again.
Looking at her, I realize I really don’t want to sit in the dorm alone without anything to do or watch.
“Fine,” I say, and she jumps up and down, clapping her hands. “But we’re leaving before midnight.”
Chapter fifteen
I change out of my pajamas and put on a new pair of jeans that I haven’t worn yet. They are a little tighter than my usual pants, but I’m in desperate need of a trip to the laundry room, so I don’t have much of a choice. My shirt is a simple black button-up, sleeveless shirt with lace trim on the shoulders.
“Wow, I actually like your outfit a lot,” Steph tells me. I smile and she tries to offer me eyeliner again.
“Not this time,” I tell her, remembering how it smeared from my tears last time. Why did I agree to go back to that frat house again?
“Okay. Molly is picking us up instead of Nate; she just texted that she’ll be here any minute.”
“I don’t think she likes me,” I say as I check myself out in the mirror.
Steph cocks her head to one side. “What? She does. She’s just bitchy and too honest sometimes. And I think she is intimidated by you.”