Page 1 of I Love You, So What?

CHAPTER ONE

TROY

SenioryearattheUniversity of Oregon (September)

Maci’s wide, terrified brown eyes are locked on my bike. She must already know it’s me with the way fear emanates off her–as if I showed up to this date with a hockey mask and a machete. I pull my helmet off and laugh as I hold my spare helmet out for her. “Have you been on a motorcycle before?”

“Noooope.” It’s kind of cute how nervous she is and a surprising change from most girls who think my bike is hot in that desperate sort of way–considering none of them actually want to drive it or learn anything about it. Maybe that’s too much to ask of a girl, though. It was too much to ask of Emily.

“Guess I get to be your first,” I flirt with a sly grin and a wink. Flirting feels dusty rolling off my tongue even though I’m attempting to get back to it, starting with this beautiful brunette from my early morning math class. It’s such a natural part of my personality, which might sound douchey, but I’m a quick thinker and great at reading people, and I’m proud of it.

Dinner went well, and conversation was easy. We talked about travel, but I couldn’t contribute much. Traveling for me consists solely of summer vacation at my uncle’s cabin two hours from here and my weekly ride to the viewpoint where I’ve brought Maci. Outside of a few trips to California, I haven’t been anywhere, but the more I think about it, the more I like the idea of moving there once I graduate. I’ve lived here my entire life, and I need to get out of this fucking town. I need to get away from anything that reminds me of Emily. It’s been two months since our breakup after a four year relationship that apparently didn't mean shit to her. Maci is the first girl I’ve been attracted to since, so I took that as a sign I was ready for a first date.

I take in the view–my favorite one in Eugene. It’s an overlook I come to often. There’s a path through the trees that brings you up to the top viewpoint where you can see a good chunk of the town from the University of Oregon to the downtown area and all the houses nearby. It’s enclosed by trees, some of them already changing from green to shades of yellow, red and orange now that it’s mid-October. I forget Maci is standing next to me for a moment until her voice breaks through the slight rustle of wind through the trees.

“Carley told me you were going to chicken out of asking me to hang out if she didn't talk you into it. Do you think you would have?” Once she’s talking, she says the words quickly, as if she regrets asking them and wants to rush to the end.

I noticed she’s a little insecure and nervous when she speaks sometimes but in a cute and endearing way. “I guess we will never know,” I respond even though I know I would have asked anyway. I’ve never needed anyone to talk me into doing anything. I only brought it up to Carley because I haven’t asked a girl on a date since high school.

Maci’s thoughts overlap mine. “Thisisa date, right? I mean it feels date-ish. But just because she’s not here, I’m not trying to misread this situation.” She’s rambling again, and I consider kissing her to get her to stop, but my stomach twists at the thought. My gut tells me what that means. Fuck. I am so not ready for this. I thought I was, but I’m not. I can’t see past potential betrayal. Lies. Bullshit. The fact that I can’t trust my own judgment or risk falling for someone again.

I push down the rage that’s welling inside me thinking about my ex. I wonder how long this shit will affect my life.

Refusing to succumb to my anxiety and somehow make Maci feel bad for no justified reason, I chuckle at her question. Wrapping my arm around her, I squeeze her shoulder lightly as I kiss her hair. I can manage that at least. “Definitely a date, but it’s getting late. I should probably get home so I don’t sleep through class again tomorrow. Ready to go?”

I pull up to the curb outside Jameson’s Bar, flipping out my kickstand aggressively as soon as I’ve parked. I feel like shit. It’s not that I didn’t have a great night with Maci. I did. It was good to get out of my house and out of my head for once, but when I dropped her off, I knew I couldn't see her again. Partly because she deserves more than to be a rebound and partly because I don’t trust myself to not accidentally hurt her. My head is still so fucked up. I don’t know who I can trust anymore, and I can’t imagine allowing myself to trust another girl for a while.

Shoving my keys into the front pocket of my jeans, I yank open the glass door hard enough for the bartender, Jess, to look up from where she’s pouring a beer under the dim reddish-orange lights above the taps. I take a hard seat on the black leather stool, pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. I’m fucking frustrated. I know I’m better without Emily. I should be fine.

I’m rattled out of my head when a pint glass hits the dark wooden bar in front of me. I glance up to see Jess already walking away to help two girls at the other end of the bar. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out as I reach for my beer.

Maci:Thanks for tonight! I had a great time.

Fucking great. Without replying, I toss my phone face down on the wooden bar top, not caring if the screen cracks. I take a sip of my beer in an attempt to wash down my guilt. I’m such an asshole. I should have never asked her to go on a date with me. I don’t know what I was thinking.

A rush of cold air hits my neck from the door opening, sending a chill down my spine, despite being dressed in jeans and a hoodie. I turn when I hear her laugh.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

My eyes lock with Emily’s, her laugh stops abruptly, and it feels like all the other sounds from the bar go silent with it. This is the first time I’ve seen her since she callously broke my heart. Why is she here? Someone else comes into view as Emily steps forward. A hand on her back brings her attention to him as he guides her toward the bar. Oh, perfect. My second favorite person in the world. Am I the only one who wants to punch their favorite people in the faces? As my feet hit the floor, Emily’s head spins to face me again, her eyes wide. This time the bastard touching her sees me too, an unreadable expression on his face.

Piece of shit.

I take a step as a hand grabs my forearm. My eyes fall to where her fingers dig into my skin before I meet her gaze.

“Don’t even think about it, Troy. I’ll call Tony if I have to.” Her eyes soften. “She’s not worth it.”

I stare back and tug my arm, and she releases her hold on me from behind the bar. Jess turns back to the well–her place behind the bar where she keeps ice, glasses and the most popular liquors to make drinks. She must be convinced I won’t start a fight. I’ve never even punched someone before, but I desperately want to tonight. I take the last sip of my beer and slam the glass down.

It shatters.

“Fuck,” I mumble.

“What the hell?” Jess’ curse overlaps mine as she spins toward me and takes in the shards of glass scattered over the wooden bar top.

She’s about to yell at me, but I cut her off. “I’m sorry, Jess. I’ll take care of it.”

She sighs, and I feel all the pity she’s directing my way. Pathetic.

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