False Start - Jessica Ruddick Page 0,36
especially after growing up surrounded by Roman and Carson. Although I still wasn’t ready to make nice with Carson, I’d loyally watched the game against Miami this past weekend and chewed my nails down to the quicks. Good thing the game had been after the interview.
I felt bad for Carson, and I’d had to stop myself from reaching out to see how he was taking the loss. Since the incident at Bleakers, I hadn’t talked to him, even though he’d texted me. I wasn’t ready, not necessarily because I didn’t want to hear what he had to say but because I didn’t know what I wanted to say. All I knew was that I didn’t want to fall back into the status quo. Something had to change, but I wasn’t quite sure what or how.
Earlier this evening, he’d texted me, wanting to have dinner. Actually, he’d offered to make me dinner, which I knew was his way of trying to smooth things over. I couldn’t decide whether it was good or bad that I had a homecoming meeting, which made dinner not an option. At least I didn’t have to feel bad for declining the invite.
Two minutes. Ugh. My stomach clenched, reminding me exactly why I hadn’t wanted to be on the homecoming court. But I had committed, so I swiped an extra coat of lip gloss on my lips and headed into the building. I found my way to a room full of sorority girls and fraternity guys. That wasn’t entirely correct—two candidates for homecoming king were sponsored by non-Greek organizations, but I was the only non-Greek girl. As expected, I felt immediately uncomfortable, like I didn’t belong. Roman would have fit in better. If he had gone to college, he would have made the perfect frat boy.
I wandered over to a table along the wall and snagged a bottle of water. The homecoming committee had also provided a cookie platter, so I grabbed a chocolate chip cookie to have something to do other than scroll through my phone. But the second I took a bite, a guy walked over to me.
He held out his hand. “I’m Blake.”
Cheese on a cracker. I awkwardly tried to switch my bottled water into the hand holding the cookie.
He laughed and dipped his chin to his chest. “Sorry. I caught you at a bad moment. It’s my gift.”
I quickly finished chewing and swallowed. “No, it’s okay. I’m Becca.” Despite the awkward introduction, I was glad not to be standing alone anymore.
He gestured toward the name tag I’d dutifully stuck on my shirt. “WIE? What’s that?”
“Women in Engineering,” I told him.
“Oh, cool, so you’re an engineering major?” He grinned. “I was too for a semester. It didn’t take long for me to realize I couldn’t hack it.”
That happened a lot. First semester, freshman year, engineering majors took what we referred to as “weed-out” classes. At least a quarter of those enrolled didn’t make it through.
“What major did you switch to?”
“Business management.” He grinned. “If I can’t be an engineer, then maybe I can manage them.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know how to respond to that. I peered at his name tag. “Sigma Chi.” My tone came out more accusatory than I’d intended.
“Yeah. I’m the vice president.” He rubbed the back of his neck in a sheepish gesture, making me feel like a jerk. It had sounded like I was judging him for being Greek, which I guessed I sort of was. I was being a total jerk.
“That sounds like a big responsibility.” Oh… my… God. I could not believe how lame I was being. But it was rare that I actually got to talk to a guy longer than a minute without Carson breaking it up. Especially one as cute as this one.
Blake had clean-cut good looks—neatly trimmed dark hair, clean-shaven cheeks with strong lines, and blue eyes that crinkled at the edges when he smiled. That, combined with his polo shirt and boat shoes, made him look like he belonged in the pages of a Ralph Lauren ad.
“It’s a pain in the ass,” he said. “We almost lost our charter last year because of… Well, let’s just say some of my brothers are total dipshits. You probably don’t have to deal with that in WIE.”
“Um, no.” Again, Becca, could you try to be a little more interesting? Luckily, the committee member asked everyone to take a seat so the meeting could start. Thank God. I needed to be saved from myself. I was an introvert,