The Sound of Your Heart (College Bound Book 3) Page 4

  “Yeah, I could use a drink.” I crossed the room and grabbed two bottles. I twisted off the caps, and when I nudged Ben’s hand with the cold beer, he reached up to grab it and grinned.

  “Thanks.” He took a long drink.

  I sipped mine, hoping the cool liquid would calm the fluttering in my chest while I tried to think of something to say. Something clever about his music or why he lived in a frat house if he didn’t like to party.

  I breathed. “Are you totally blind? You can’t see anything?” Brilliant, Jules. Thank God Darren wasn’t around. He’d rip me a new one for that idiotic comment. I couldn’t seem to help myself. All I could think about was that Ben couldn’t see rainbows or artwork or even a football game. He couldn’t see me.

  Ben chuckled and shook his head. “No. I’ve always been blind. But my other senses are stronger. For instance, I can hear you breathing fast.” He tilted his head in amusement. “What’s the matter? Blind guys make you nervous? We’re not known for our deviant ways.” He grinned and it was honest and sweet, a grin that made me dream of stolen kisses and sweaty bodies between sheets.

  My laugh was loud and awkward. “I’m not nervous.”

  He drank his beer, and stared in my direction, watching me without actually watching me. Even though he couldn’t technically see me, his quiet contemplation made me feel like he was examining everything about me, inside and out. It was a stupid thought, but he seemed aware of me in a way that no other guy ever had been...and it made me nervous. When his intensity was focused on his music and his guitar, he was mesmerizing. Now that it was on me, I felt exposed.

  I stood, and Ben did the same.

  “You leaving already?” he asked.

  “Wait. Are you messing with me?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “How did you know I stood up?”

  Ben laughed again. “You’re blunt and weird. I like that.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I heard you stand. There’s no need to rush out of here. You can stay, you know. I won’t hurt you.”

  Oh, but something told me he could do exactly that. He was sweet. And hot. And unlike any of the guys I’d ever been with before. He seemed kind and sure of himself, and maybe a bit vulnerable.

  All I knew was that I had a crush on a guy who couldn’t see me. Ever. He had no clue how hot I looked tonight, and he never would. I had to rely on my witty personality alone to woo him, which in all honesty didn’t bode well for me. I wasn’t known for my conversation skills. I was a girl of action. What could I offer him? What would a nice, quiet guy like Ben ever see in me?

  Oh, Jesus. Nothing Jules. He’d see nothing because he’s blind for God’s sake.

  Fuck. What was I doing in here? I was screwed up in the head.

  “Sorry. Thanks for the drink, but I...I have to go.” I moved toward the door and Ben followed, his arm stretched in my direction.

  “Wait, Julie—” Ben called out, but I was gone. Hurrying down the stairs and into the main room where I was immediately swallowed by the crowd of drunk Greeks.

  Suddenly claustrophobic, I whirled around looking for the exit. A smoke machine shot billowy clouds made of chemicals into the air. The room was dark, save for the strobe light and bodies smashed together, dancing in a pack now that alcohol had kicked inhibitions to the curb.

  I edged my way to the door, bodies surrounding me, touching, bumping. No wonder Ben preferred it upstairs. The movement and sound were intimidating enough when I was sober and could see where I was going.

  I met Marleigh at the front door. “I’m gonna call it a night.” Her eyes flashed in concern, but before she could speak, I said, “I’m fine. Just tired.” She nodded and called out to two sisters who were already making their way home.

  I hurried down the sidewalk in my heels and joined them, glad for the safety of not having to walk home alone, silently reliving every second of my awkward conversation with Ben.

  I ran away from bass boy Ben.

  Why? Because he couldn’t see how beautiful I was on the outside? Or was it because I was afraid that without my pretty shell to focus on, he might see the real me. And I wouldn’t be enough.

  Chapter Three

  Julie

  The good thing about going home early and not drinking much at the party was that I had zero hangover the next day for my time with Darren.

  The bad thing was that Darren wasn’t fooled by my forced cheerfulness. He knew something was up. He kept glancing at me as we made our way past the mall in the middle of campus, but he hadn’t said a word. It was almost as if he was still considering the best way to conquer any defense I might put up. He wouldn’t rest until he picked my mood apart, and deep down I was afraid of what he might say when he finally knew the truth.

  I was a little sick at how he would react after he heard what I’d done. But even if I wanted to run and hide from one of his lectures, I never would. Maybe it was because Darren understood me better than anyone. Or maybe it was because I was afraid he’d actually run over me with his wheelchair when he caught me...like he’d threatened on more than one occasion when I was being an ass. Either way, he’d have his say, and I would listen.

  I was surprised when Darren changed the direction of his chair and headed toward the reflecting pool that ran down the middle of the mall. Students were scattered all across the grass nearby—studying, lounging in the sun, and chatting.

  “I thought we were going to get something to eat?” I asked.

  Darren looked up at me, his eyebrows raised. “Are you going to eat something this time instead of just drinking water with lemon?” He looked me up and down. “If you ask me, a big sausage would do you some good.”

  I started coughing, my body unsure of whether I was choking on his comment or laughing at it. Sometimes I wondered if Darren might be my long-lost twin because we were too similar for it to be a coincidence. “That’s what she said,” I finally managed to get out.

  He grinned. “I’m serious. You need something to make you feel like a woman again instead of this starved model thing you’ve got going on.”

  I didn’t even bother to argue with him. Probably because most of the time I really was starving, saving my calories for alcohol and parties. Not that I’d ever admit it to him.

  He pulled his chair up alongside the reflecting pool, and I sat down on the edge of the fountain, finally getting my laughter under control. “If you want to sit by the pool, we could always get some smoothies and come back here,” I offered. I felt like I needed something in my hands, something to concentrate on, to make me feel less naked around my very perceptive friend.

  “We’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong.” He crossed his arms over his chest giving me his best tough guy expression. “Was it the boy with the baseball hat from the other day? Did you already ditch him, too?” He flattened his mouth in a disapproving frown.

  I tucked my hands under my thighs and watched as two guys tossed a Frisbee back and forth. “He had moobs,” I mumbled.

  When I finally looked up at Darren, it was obvious he was fighting to hold back laughter. “Moobs,” he repeated. “What’s wrong with moobs? Afraid they might be nicer than yours?” He tilted his chin higher.

  My smile won out over memories from the weekend. I rolled my eyes, grateful that he wasn’t yelling at me for my shallowness. “Please. No competition.” I lifted my hands to cup my boobs. “These babies are top shelf.”

  Darren rested his hands in his lap. Waiting.

  I stopped fondling myself and picked at a string that hung from the edge of my jean skirt. “And he also might have mentioned a nickname he heard from the guys in his frat.” My voice was small. It was never small. I hated all things small.

  “Do share.”

  I swallowed hard. I hadn’t told Marleigh this part. It was easier to give her the moobs excuse and continue on in my carefree, shallow Julie way. To be the person everyone expected me to be.

  Darren expected more.

  I twirled the stri
ng around my finger. “He told me the guys in his frat call me Juleasy. He wanted to know if there was any truth to it.” I yanked the string, feeling it cut into my skin as it tore away from the skirt. “He had the balls to ask me that as we were making out. As if that would make me want to sleep with him.” I risked a look at Darren and he narrowed his gaze.

  “I’m assuming you didn’t. Sleep with him that is.” He said it in a way that made it clear that if I had, he was going to beat my ass for it. Probably after he ran me over with his wheelchair.

  “No. But I might have suggested that he’d find a nice selection of inexpensive bras in the juniors’ department at Walmart.”

  Darren twisted his mouth in a half grin. “Nice comeback, although it probably won’t stop him from telling everyone that the rumor is true. If he was dick enough to ask you, he’s dick enough to lie to his friends about what happened.”

  “I know.” I shrugged it off because there wasn’t anything I could do to stop the rumors. “It’s stupid that it bothered me. I’m not going to lie to myself and pretend it’s not true, but it pissed me off that he would dare say that. I know I date around. Sometimes I even sleep around. Everyone knows it. But guys do it too, and no one calls them easy or a slut or a whore. Why am I wrong for wanting to have fun? Besides, it’s not like I sleep with every guy I date. And it doesn’t mean that all I want is to hook up. I want the right guy. I just haven’t found him yet. Trust me. I’ve been looking.” I nudged the wheel of Darren’s chair with my toe.

  All around us, students had gathered to enjoy the nice weather and I was a dark little rain cloud, pouting and ruining my time with Darren. And I couldn’t stop. It was so unlike me to mope and I didn’t know why I couldn’t seem to dig myself out of this funk. I hadn’t cared what people thought about me in a long time. My mom made sure I was armed with emotional armor. But why was I suddenly worried that people called me a slut? Or easy? Why did Ben get under my skin? It shouldn’t matter. I shouldn’t care.

  “You’ve been looking, but not really trying,” Darren said. “I agree that guy was an ass-bucket, but not all guys are like that. You don’t even know some of their names before you ditch them.”

  I let Darren’s accusation sink in as I thought about the most recent guys I’d dated. The dude from the gym who held his fork from the topside, using it like a shovel to eat. The Political Science major who refused to take off his underwear during sex. The hippie from the co-op who didn’t believe man had ever landed on the moon. Corey with the unisex name and girlfriend. And the frat boy with the moobs who only wanted a random hookup.

  One out of five. I had a twenty percent record of knowing the names of the guys I hooked up with. Not good.

  I yanked on another loose string from my skirt, and instead of arguing, I said, “I finally talked to the bass boy. I know his name now.”

  Darren’s head tilted to the side. “You talked to your dream boy? I take it that didn’t go well either since you’re acting like someone took all your fat-free cheese away.”

  “Smart ass,” I accused. But his joke made me smile anyway.

  “One of us has to be since you’re intent on being grumpy today.” He held my gaze. “You met bass boy. You know his name. So what’s the problem?”

  I sighed and explained what happened at The Shell, how I had heard Ben and Leo talking about a sloppy second’s groupie and assumed they were talking about me.

  “So what if someone calls you sloppy seconds or a groupie? Why should that bother you? You know it’s not true.”

  The day was so bright and cheerful. In contrast, talking about that night, and reliving the way I felt at that moment, made me feel dirty. I wanted to jump headfirst into the reflecting pool and wash the filthy feelings away so I could feel like me again.

  I lifted my eyebrow at his last comment. “It’s kind of true. I’ve been with a lot of guys, Darren. I know people call me a slut behind my back. I’ve looked the word slut up in the dictionary. It means a woman with many casual sexual partners. By definition, they’re right. I am a slut.”

  Darren waved his curled hand at me and made a noise that sounded like “pshaw.” He shook his head. “So you have sex with some of the guys you date. At this point, you must be pretty good at it. I doubt you’re ever sloppy.” The grin that stole across his mouth made me blush.

  I looked around to make sure no one was listening to our conversation. “Let’s keep it PG. There are freshmen around here,” I joked. I loved that he respected me despite my reputation. He never made me feel bad about liking sex. As he often pointed out, if guys can like sex, why not girls?

  He jostled himself to the side a bit and used his good hand to move his leg in the chair.

  “You okay? Need help?” I asked him, leaning forward. I hated that he was confined to the chair all the time. His life was full of real challenges, and here I was whining about my stupid crush and bad reputation. I was so self-centered. I had no idea how he could even stand to hang around me.

  “Yeah, could you...” He looked down at his lap and gestured to his crotch. “Reach down there and readjust for me? It’ll only take ten minutes or so.”

  Laughter burst from me like candy out of a piñata. I pointed at him, narrowing my eyes. “You, my friend, are a cad.”

  He frowned and gazed around us in confusion. “Did we just time travel to the 1600s? A cad? Do I get to call you a tart then?” When I continued to laugh, he reached down and lifted his other leg by the fabric of his pants, moving it slightly. “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” Once he was comfortable, he rested his hands on his lap again. “Okay. So you eavesdropped on your bass boy and the dude with luscious locks, heard something that hurt your delicate feelings, and then you bolted like a coward instead of confronting him. That doesn’t sound like my Jules.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but Darren shook his head to stop me.

  “What happened next?” he asked.

  I told him about the party, and how Phil’s unwanted flirtations sent me to the second floor of the Pike house where I ran into Ben again. With each word, I already knew how Darren would respond. I dreaded the end of my story because eventually, I’d have to tell him that I’d bolted from Ben not once, but twice.

  I needed Darren to put me in my place. If I told Taren or Lex about either of my Ben run-ins, they’d be supportive, but they wouldn’t tell me what I needed to hear. They were used to me casting off guys for less than calling me their sloppy seconds. They wouldn’t expect me to give Ben a second thought.

  The truth was, I’d done nothing but think about Ben since the moment I walked out of his bedroom. That has never happened. Once I walked away from a guy, I was done. For some reason, Ben was like my personal plague. I couldn’t stop thinking about him and I was scared that I cared what he thought of me.

  “Let me get this straight,” Darren said when I finished, frowning as if my story was a personal offense to him. “So this guy you like is blind. He literally can’t see that you’re pretty. And because of that, you thought you had nothing else to offer him, so you ran away.”

  I bit my lip and scrunched my nose, wanting to be able to refute him. Wishing I wasn’t so fucking shallow. Or stupid.

  Darren leaned forward and pointed to my neck. “What’s that?” He gestured to my throat.

  The change in subject caught me off guard and I looked down to see what he was pointing at. I lifted my hand and held the metal charm between my thumb and forefinger. “Oh, this? They’re my letters. For Tri-Gam. My big sister gave them to me my first year.”

  “Can I see?” he asked.

  I leaned forward to show him, but he shooed me away.

  “No. Take it off and hand it to me. I don’t need to be that close to you. I don’t want people to think we’re trying to make out. I can’t go disappointing my bevy of ladies. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

  “You’re incorrigible.” I shook my head, laughing, and unhooked the clasp, handing the necklace over to him.

>   He held it in his clenched fist, gave it a once over, and then tossed it into the reflecting pool. I lurched toward the edge, trying to grab it before it sank. When Darren placed his bent fingers on my arm, I stopped. He wasn’t physically holding me, but I stopped all the same.

  “What the hell?” I glanced toward the water to see the necklace slowly sinking in the shallow water.

  “I have a point,” he said.

  “I assumed. That’s the only reason I haven’t smacked you upside the head.”

  He chuckled. “That and you’d probably get your ass kicked by every person here if you started beating on a cripple.”

  I cringed at his last word. “Don’t call yourself that.”

  “A cripple?” He shrugged. “Why not? Other people do.”

  “It’s not a nice word. Besides, your legs are crippled, but you’re not a cripple. There’s a difference.” He stared at me. “There’s nothing crippled or damaged about your personality. Inside you’re perfect.”

  “Hallelujah!” he yelled, throwing his arms into the air.

  I rolled my eyes and held my hands out to the side in surrender. “Okay. Make your point, Sensei.”

  He gestured to the pool beside us. “The reflection pool is beautiful. Nice to look at, right?”

  I nodded.

  “But be honest, do you care about it?”

  I cast a glance at it and my heart lurched because this was what I needed to hear from Darren. “Not particularly.”

  “But you care about that necklace. It matters to you. The water is nice to look at, but you don’t give two shits about the water or about what you can see. You care about what’s underneath that pretty surface. You want what’s inside the water. Am I right?”

  I gave him the most genuine smile I think I’d ever worn.

  “Those of us who love you only care about what’s inside, Jules. You have a pretty package, but we’d love you just the same without that fancy exterior.”

  I reached out and grabbed his hand in mine, blinking to battle my burning eyes. “How did you get so smart?”