Page 154 of Anyone But Her

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"You want me to take that?" He nods toward my box.

I adjust my hold on it. "No. I got it."

We go outside and he stops at a shiny black pick-up. It's a really nice truck, with an extended cab and leather interior.

"How'd you get the money for this?"

"I didn't buy it," he says as he sets the boxes in the truck bed. "One of the guys I met overseas gave it to me. He was working at a free medical clinic and we got to be friends. When I told him I was moving back here and working on your dad's farm, he offered me his truck. He's a surgeon from Napa. Said he never used the truck and asked if I wanted it."

Silas holds the door open as we go back inside the dorm.

"He just gave it to you? You're not just borrowing it?"

"It's mine. The paperwork's in my name. The guy has a lot of money. He said he didn't want the hassle of having to sell it and he liked that it'd be used on the farm. He's a big supporter of organic farming."

This shouldn't surprise me. Silas makes friends easily. He has a way of winning people over. He's a great salesman. When he used to work the jewelry booth for his mom at the farmers' market, they always sold out of everything when Silas was there.

I think it's his smile. He has a perfect smile. An easy relaxed smile that draws you in. Not to mention those soft lips and naturally straight white teeth. I had to suffer with braces to get my teeth this straight.

He goes in my room and picks up four boxes. At this rate, we'll be done in ten minutes.

It ends up taking twenty, but only because I had to search my room three times to make sure I got everything. I always worry I'll leave something behind.

Silas watched me during all three searches, leaning against the door with his arms crossed and a slight grin on his face. He finds my somewhat obsessive behaviors to be cute. Most guys find it annoying.

We return to the truck and he opens my door. The truck is high off the ground, making it difficult to get in while wearing a dress.

"Need some help?" he asks as I stand there trying to figure out the best way to do this. My dad has a truck but we only use it on the farm and I don't wear dresses when I'm at the farm.

"I can do it." I go to lift my leg up but find that I can't with this dress on. It's really short and if I lift my leg up that high I'll probably rip the fabric along with exposing myself. Why did I wear this dress? I know why. I wore it because it's unusually hot out today and the dress is lightweight and cool and I thought I'd be riding in the back of my parents' Prius, not a huge pickup truck.

I stand with my hands on my hips, biting my lip as I assess what to do. But before I can make a decision, two large hands reach around my waist and lift me straight up and into the truck, setting me on the seat.

"Silas!" I turn and see his face right in front of me.

He smiles that easy-going smile. "I couldn't wait all day for you to get in the truck." He reaches up and grabs the seatbelt and pulls it down around me, his hand grazing my hip as he clicks it in place. "Safety first." He smiles again, then shuts the door.

I watch him go around the front of the truck. Something about him is different. He seems bolder. More assertive. The old Silas would just offer to help me in the truck, not pick me up and put me there. And the old Silas wouldn't have openly run his eyes over my body when he saw me in this dress. He would've snuck a peek when I wasn't looking.

He's 20 now so maybe he's changing. Growing up. Maybe it's not just his body that's more manly but also his personality. He's been on his own the past two years, traveling the world, which I'm sure has matured him.

"Why are you wearing a dress?" he asks as he pulls out onto the road that leads away from campus. "Doesn't seem like something you'd wear on moving day."

"All my other clothes were packed. I found this in the back of my drawer. I forgot I had it."

"I like it." He flashes a smile my way. "You should wear it again sometime."

Why is he being so flirty? He knows we're not getting back together. Maybe this is just the new Silas. Maybe he flirts all the time, with all girls, not just me. I wonder how many girls he's been with since we broke up. He never had a hard time getting girls. Those eyes and that smile were enough to attract them without him even having to try.

And then that hair. He's got the best hair. I'm jealous of his hair. It's dark brown and wavy yet somehow never frizzes, not even on a rainy day. He doesn't even use any product in it. It's just naturally soft, shiny, and annoyingly sexy. It's long for a guy, hanging just below his jawline.

With that hair, that smile, those eyes and those rock-hard muscles? I'm sure he's been with tons of girls the past couple years.

As for me, I've been with six guys, including Silas. I'm only 19 so some might say that's a lot, but I don't agree. If I were a guy, people would think six is low. I don't know why girls have to be limited to a certain number, or be called sluts for going above that number. I'm a modern woman and refuse to be held to those standards.

My liberal, hippie parents never tried to keep me from having sex. Well, my dad didn't want me to do it, but he knew it would happen. He just hoped it would be with a guy who cared about me, which he told me during one of the many embarrassing conversations my parents had with me about sex. They've always been very open about the topic. They even left condoms in my room when I was fifteen. I didn't use them until I was sixteen. With Silas. He was my first. They say you'll always remember your first time. It's true. I'll never forget that night. And I've never forgotten Silas. But Lord knows I've tried. I've spent the last two years trying to forget about him, and now here I am, sitting right next to him.

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