Page 6 of Take 2
“Me?” Geez, I sound like a mouse.
“Yeah, this seemed like the least awkward area of the patio.” He tips his head toward the crying girls.
“I’m only slightly less awkward.” Why did I say that? I glance away, mentally kicking myself for managing to be more awkward than the drunk make-out session in the other corner.
He chuckles. “No, I brought the awkward. Nothing like being at a bar on a Saturday night and getting reamed out about grades.”
“Oh, yeah. That must … suck.”
Something about the way I said that makes him scrutinize me. “You don’t sound familiar with the experience.”
“I … um …”
“Have perfect grades?”
“Yes?” Why do I sound like I’m apologizing for that? I guess I don’t want to rub it in his face.
“That’s not a bad thing,” he says as if the apologetic tone bothered him too.
“I know.” Finally, my voice comes out with some confidence.
“What’s your major?”
“English. Yours?”
“Business Management. Figured that’s useful for almost anything if football doesn’t work out.”
I nod, unable to add anything. Football is a big deal here. To me, it’s always just been an inconvenience when traffic becomes insane on Saturdays.
“My dad thinks there’s no excuse for me doing poorly in English since I speak it.”
At that, I smile. “There’s a little more to it than that.”
“As I’ve tried to explain.”
An awkward silence descends upon us, and I’m about to mutter something unintelligible about going, but he holds his hand out and says, “I’m Ryan.”
“Bella,” I say, putting my frozen palm in his warm grasp.
“Like Swan?”
A chuckle bubbles in my chest. “You don’t strike me as someone who would read or watchTwilight.”
“My little sister’s fault.”
“Right.” I drag out the word.
“Whatever. I’m surprised you even know the reference. Don’t English majors just read stuff by dead Russians?”
Ah, dueling stereotypes.
“Twilight’s popularity made it impossible for a girl who goes by Bella not to read it,” I say. “And I’m into all types of movies.”
He scrunches his lips to the side, and somehow, it’s in that twisted expression that the full force of how attractive his face is hits me. His strong jaw is dusted with stubble as dark as the waves on his head and those eyes … why is this hot football player even talking to me?
“A movie buff?” he says. “I assumed all English majors were book nerds.”
“I am also a book nerd, but funny thing about movies—they have to be written too.”
