[chapter four]
Disclaimer: If you've heard of them, I don't own them. Everything else is mine, so no stealing, pretty please. ;-)
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~Jeffy's POV~
I wasn't looking at her like that.
I swear to God.
I mean, I wanted to, sure, but I wasn't.
Well, it's nice to know everyone thinks I'm a total dork with no personality and no backbone and no vocabulary unless it's a Bible verse or contains the word 'awesome'.
Though, come to think of it, I bet that's what a lot of people think. I sometimes wonder if my soul got sucked out of me the day I married Brooke.
What Jasmine said is true though - I do seem to be lacking any conversational skills these days. Trying to make friends, trying to meet people, just trying to be happy go lucky … that all stopped when Brooke came in the picture.
God, I was so stupid.
Why did I let her do that to me?
I'm a cool guy! I'm hip! I'm happening!
Okay, I'm not. But I want to be.
That has to count for something, right?
I heft the case of Budweiser out of the trunk of my car as Jimmie walks out his front door, wearing a ripped tee shirt, saggy jeans and a backwards hat.
Is he channeling Junior or something? He looks so sloppy. Sponsors don't like sloppy …
Oh my god. I am a total dork.
"Hey man. Need some help?" Jimmie offers as I pick up the case of beer.
"No, thanks. I got it." I say, following him to her - their - front door.
"Glad you're gonna be here tonight. This'll be fun." Jimmie says enthusiastically. "You'll love these guys. We always have a blast."
My stomach is in knots at the thought of seeing her - them - again.
I swallow thickly and run a quick inventory. Does my hair look okay? Is this shirt stupid looking? And please don't let it have Dupont on it. Are my shoelaces tied? Do these jeans look okay on me?
Before I can answer any of the questions, the front door is being flung open by Jasmine, who pulls Jimmie into a big hug. "James!" She yells and he swings her around once before putting her back down.
"Jas!" He yells back and she laughs, before Jimmie turns and grabs the case out of my hand, leaving me without something to occupy myself, to protect myself with.
"What was your name again?" Jasmine teases as I close the front door behind me, and before I know it, she's pulling me into a tight hug.
God, she feels so good.
"And you are?" I return, hoping I sound teasing, and not completely lame.
"Very good, young Jeffrey. Very good." She rewards me, letting go and leading me into the family room.
I think I could have stayed there all night. Forget the poker game. Forget the guys.
I just want to be with her.
Of course, two hours later, I've changed my mind.
I don't think I've ever laughed so much in my life. Jimmie was right - these roommates are a blast. Merciless teasing, joking, laughing, trash talking … I needed this. I needed to meet these people.
And I love watching Jasmine laugh. Her loud laugh fills the room, fills my ears, like music.
Alex - her big brother - is obviously the joker of the crowd. Scout's loud and rambunctious, and though Jon is a bit more quiet, he's the king of sarcastic comments. Jasmine has the quick wit, the teasing air about her, but they lap it up. The minute I met them all, I liked them.
I just hope I haven't been a complete dork.
Jasmine sputters in laughter at something Scout says before putting up her hand. "Need … another … beer … now." She gasps and I stand up quickly.
"I'll get it." I volunteer, walking quickly into the kitchen to grab a can out of the fridge. I put it against my forehead for a few moments, trying to cool off when I hear Jasmine walk in behind me.
"Hot?" She asks, and I have to bite my tongue.
Oh, she has no idea.
"Yeah, a little." I choke out instead, and she laughs at me.
"I'm very proud of you, you know." She says conversationally, sitting up on the countertop across from me.
"Why?"
"You haven't said awesome all night." She teases, leaning back against the cabinets. "Granted, you let a couple of 'greats' and 'fantastics' slip, but I'll forgive you."
I blush slightly. King Dork continues his reign of terror.
"Especially since you are so cute when you blush." She says, and I blush even more. She laughs again as she looks at me. "Do I make you nervous?" She asks, suddenly serious.
So nervous I don't think I can speak half the time.
"Why?" She asks, and I realize I said that out loud. Damn.
I shrug. "You just do."
"Do the guys make you nervous?" She asks.
I shake my head no, but say nothing.
"Is it because I'm mean to you, or because she taught you never to talk to another girl?"
"You aren't mean to me." I say, ignoring the other part of her comment.
"I am."
"You aren't."
"Trust me, I am. And it's only gonna get worse."
"Why?"
"Because." She says, sliding back off the counter. "I like making you blush. I like making you nervous. I like the way you look at me, trying to figure me out. And because I think in the end, you may be worth it after all."
"Worth it?" I ask, confused.
"Yeah. I think you're a dork who's boring, stuffy, a goody goody, with perfect hair and a too nice to be human smile, who's too good for a crowd like us with no real fire of his own except on the track." She says, and smiles. "And frankly, I think it might be worth it to make you prove otherwise."
What the hell am I supposed to
say to that?