The Sophomore (College Years #2) - Monica Murphy Page 0,45

Doghouse Grill. It’s one of the most popular restaurants close to campus, if not the entire town. Customers spill into the place all day, all night. The parking lot is small and cramped, so it’s a constant fight out there for parking. The line to order is always out the door, and we never seem to have enough seating for everyone.

We’re slammed from the time we open until we close, and this means time passes really, really quickly. I got the job thanks to my experience working the fountain at one of the lakeside resorts in my hometown for three summers in a row. Most of the high schoolers work at the various resorts and restaurants that surround the lake. At the height of summer, we’d get slammed there too.

I’m used to a fast pace, and I’m super-efficient. I got hired here easily, and I love it. I make decent tips too. The only thing I don’t like? The hours. We stay open pretty late, especially when management doesn’t like to turn customers away. Only when the grill is completely closed will we finally stop serving food. Though the bar is always open way longer than it should be.

Most nights we close at nine, but sometimes I don’t get out of there until around eleven. I don’t like being out alone that late. Yes, I’m a big girl, but the crime rate is up in this part of town. I can’t help but be a little nervous.

I’m a small-town girl, what can I say?

I never talked to Jackson about picking me up after work. Hayden dropped me off when my shift started—and then came in and ordered her and Gracie some food with my employee discount.

That’s what friends are for, helping each other out.

It’s a Tuesday, and we’re still busy. A stream of students mixed with regular folks come in and out the doors all night. By the time I’m taking my break, sitting at a table near the back, close to the kitchen, my feet are aching, and it feels good to be off of them for a bit. I check my phone to see I have a text from none other than Jackson.

The jackass tease who felt me up and then essentially kicked me out of his car.

Jackson: What time should I come pick you up?

Me: I already have a ride.

Jackson: From who?

Me: Why do you always think I’m lying?

Jackson: Maybe because you are.

Irritation fills me and I hit the button so I can call him. He answers on the first ring.

“Who’s picking you up?”

This is how he greets me.

“Hayden,” I tell him, which is the damn truth. “She took me to work too.”

“Tell her I’m picking you up instead.”

God, he’s so demanding. And annoying.

“You don’t have to. You’ve done enough,” I tell him.

“I’ll text her and let her know,” he says, cutting me off. “What time are you off?”

“Around ten or so,” I say. “But really, Jackson. I’m fine. I don’t need you to pick me up.”

“See you then.” He ends the call before I can say anything else.

Annoyed, I immediately call Hayden and tell her what he said.

“Hmm. Why is Jackson acting like this?” Hayden sounds suspicious.

I didn’t tell her about my interaction with Jackson last night in his car. She only knows about my car breaking down and him coming to my rescue. The other stuff…I’m not ready to share yet.

“I don’t know. I’m sure I’m reading too much into it,” I say, deciding to be truthful.

“Yeah, but it’s weird, ya know? Is it one of those, I don’t want you, but no one else can have you either situations? If that’s the case, he’s a straight-up douche,” she says.

I’m quiet for a moment. “We already know he’s a straight-up douche.”

“True.” She sighs. “I think he has a hero complex when it comes to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“He wants to be your hero. Run to your rescue. Fix your problems so you’ll be indebted to him forever,” she explains.

That actually makes a lot of sense. “Maybe so.”

“It might give him a sense of power over you. I don’t know. I should’ve been a psychology major,” she says. “That kind of thing fascinates me.”

It fascinates me too, but only when it comes to Jackson. Most of the time I don’t understand his motives. And he doesn’t explain himself at all, which makes it worse.

“Should I still come and get you?” she asks when I haven’t said anything.

“No.” I sigh. “He sounded pretty determined about being my