I’m sure Greyston’s exactly right about being able to do better. However, what he doesn’t realize is that I feel as though he might be my “better.” And he’s not an option.
“Greyston,” I say with a smile. “I don’t think they can get much worse than Ben.”
“Juliette, you don’t know what he’s thinking—”
“And you do?” I ask softly, smiling at him to show him I’m not upset by his need to keep me safe. He’s doing this because he promised my dad; I know this to be a fact. “It’s one date. I’ve shared a few classes with him, and he seems really nice.”
“Looks can be deceiving.”
There’s no holding back my amusement. “You look like a nice guy…are you telling me you’re secretly a psychopath?”
He’s pinching the bridge of his nose and clenching his eyes shut. “That’s different.”
“Is it?” I ask. “My dad thought you were some crazy person, and he agreed to meet with you so you could prove him wrong. Shouldn’t Erik be granted the same allowances?”
It’s clear he’s not happy that I’ve compared him and Erik, but it works. He opens the door, but still holds onto my hand, tethering me to him for a moment longer. There’s something in the way he’s holding onto me that reaches out to that small, distant part of me that’s still grasping for a shred of hope that maybe he’s interested.
Then he let’s go, and it all slips away.
“Promise you’ll call if you need absolutely anything. A ride, someone to talk to, anything.”
I agree without a second thought, thanking him for his concern, and walk out to find Erik leaning against the passenger side door of his older Ford Focus, playing with his phone.
Upon seeing me, he slips his phone into his pocket and pushes off the car. “Well he’s mighty protective, isn’t he?”
He moves away from the door, and I smile expectantly, waiting for him to open it. When he doesn’t, instead running around to his own door and hopping in immediately, I’m stunned. Slowly, I turn back to Greyston, who’s chuckling from his place in the doorway and shaking his head.
I understand that it isn’t unusual for men to make their women open their own doors or pull out their own chairs, but since meeting Greyston, I guess I had hoped that maybe Ben was the rarity.
Annoyed less than fifteen minutes into my first date, I open my door and climb in. I decide that I’m not going to hold this against Erik, and that it’s just how he was taught.
The entire drive to the party, Erik is talking about the big football game on Sunday. “I’m having a few buddies over to watch the game on my new flat screen. You should stop by.”
“Oh,” I tell him, “I can’t. I’m actually going to the game on Sunday.”
Erik’s eyes go wide, and he turns to me for a longer period of time than I’m entirely comfortable with since he’s driving. “When did you get tickets? I’ve been trying for months.”
I smile, remembering dinner with Greyston and my parents quite fondly. “Greyston, actually. He’s taking my parents and me. The team’s manager gave him tickets for signing the new quarterback.”
Erik’s mouth is now equally as wide as his eyes; it’s kind of frightening. “Your landlord gave you tickets? That’s… weird.”
“I don’t know,” I tell him with a laugh. “I thought it was kind of sweet.”
We arrive at the party a few minutes later, and Erik gets out of the car and starts for the door—while I’m still sitting in the passenger seat. He’s docking himself points left and right, but I continue to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Walking as fast as I can in my heels, I catch up to him before we pass through the door, and he snickers. “What took you so long?”
It takes all the strength I can muster to not slam his face into the side of the doorframe. He’s lucky he is able to redeem himself a little when he spots the keg and offers to get us both a drink.
“Thank you. That would be great.” I watch as he crosses the room and talks to the guy manning the keg. While he’s gone, I take a look around at the party to find it’s already in full swing. Men and women are grinding in the large living room area as heavy dance music makes the walls and windows rattle, and there are couples making out in every corner. I haven’t been to one of these things since last year, and I can clearly see that they haven’t changed.
Erik returns a couple of minutes later with my beer. “Your new place looks great,” Erik says, trying to start the conversation. “What made you decide to move off campus?”