Page 11 of Give In To Love
“Wait…five years ago…” He appeared to be thinking. “I actually think I remember that day. You came home sopping wet, and then every time we visited Gram’s for the rest of that summer, you’d disappear as soon as Ma parked the car. You were looking for him, weren’t you?”
“Yup.” There wasn’t any point in denying it. I wasn’t sure what had possessed me to pull Jimmy along on my little adventure that afternoon. I’d stumbled upon him in that clearing looking so lost, so absolutely heartbroken, that I’d wanted to doanythingto take his mind off whatever was troubling him.
I hadn’t counted on thoughts of those blond curls haunting my dreams for the next five years. How often had I wondered about him? About the boy with sad eyes who’d given me the honor of his first kiss. Had he kissed other guys since? I frowned at the thought. I didn’t like it. Not at all.
“What? What’s that face for?”
I shook off the thought, rearranging my features into something I hoped was more neutral. “Nothing. What’s your first class on Monday?”
“Nope. Uh-uh. You are not changing the subject on me. So, what was his deal last night? He didn’t look nearly as happy to see you as he should, based on that little story you just told me.”
It had been a little disconcerting to have him react that way, but I’d been around enough dancers with anxiety that I could recognize a panic attack when I saw one. My first priority had been his well-being. It had only been later, when we’d turned out the lights for bed, that I had time to think about why he’d reacted that way. I’d replayed the scene in my mind and could honestly say I wasn’t sure what exactly had set him off. But I’d offered to change rooms and he’d asked me to stay, so I had to have faith that he ultimately wanted me there.
“I’m pretty sure he was having a panic attack. I don’t know what triggered it, but I was able to talk him down—told him the story about you splitting your pants at the dance recital as a distraction—and he seemed okay after that. He was pretty quiet the rest of the evening, but I think he’s just a quiet guy.”
“I’m never gonna live that story down, am I?”
“Of course not. What kind of big brother would I be if I didn’t keep that story alive?”
“You’re such an ass.”
“Like you don’t use every opportunity to tell people how I scored an own goal in three separate games during my one and only soccer season.”
He grinned at me but returned to the topic at hand. “So what are you going to do?”
“Do? About what?”
“About Jimmy. You’re obviously into him. Do you think it’s a good idea to continue being roommates with him?”
I thought about his question. Was Iinto him? I’d certainly been attracted to him that afternoon, but now… Mostly, I was just intrigued by him. Curious. He seemed like he could use a friend.
“I think you’re reading too much into this. I’m gonna get to know him like I would any roommate and hope we can be friends.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. It’ll be fine.”
5
TJ
By Thursday,I hadn’t made much progress in getting to know Jimmy, and I was starting to get frustrated. You’d think that since we were roommates, we’d have plenty of opportunities to talk, but our schedules didn’t seem aligned. When we did happen to be in our room at the same time, Jimmy hadn’t been overly forthcoming when I’d attempted to draw him into conversation.
So far, I’d learned he was a year younger than me and had graduated from Astaire High School. But these days, he and his brother shared an apartment above an auto shop in Brinkley, the neighboring town about twenty minutes away from Astaire. I discovered he was an education major like me, though he’d taken classes at the community college in Brinkley for the past couple of years, which explained why I hadn’t seen him around campus.
Aaand that was it. That was all I’d managed to get out of him in several days. I’d invited him to eat with me a couple of times, but he’d declined. He’d been very polite about it, saying, “No, thank you,” but not offering any explanation for his refusal before returning to whatever he was doing.
It left me frustrated yet more intrigued than ever.
I could honestly say, without any ego, that most people were comfortable around me. I’d been told all my life that I was easy to talk to. I was generally a pretty cheerful guy and did my best to be friendly with everyone I met. I was great at making conversation, no matter the circumstance or occasion, and I was an equally good listener. Mostly, it all came down to the fact that I was good at reading people. If you just paid a little bit of attention and listened more than you spoke, you could get a sense of the essence of the person. And at the end of the day, most people just wanted to be seen.
I was starting to suspect Jimmy was the opposite. I didn’t think he wanted to be seen much at all. It only made me more determined to figure him out. To unlock his secrets. To figure out what made him tick.
I walked into my Adolescent Psych class about three minutes before eleven on Thursday, and my attention was immediately grabbed by the halo of blond curls that could only belong to my current obsession. Smiling broadly, I made my way down the row to the vacant seat next to him and sat down.
“Hey!”
He glanced up, eyes widening slightly as he said, “Hi,” then turned his attention back to the open novel in front of him.
