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JAMESON
18 Years Old
"So you think just because you can throw a ball down a field and have girls falling at your feet that I'll do the same?"
Her voice is high-pitched and sassy, pulling me from my conversation with my friends.
"Nah," I laugh, folding my arms over my chest leaning into the historic brick wall outside the science building, "Just needed to find a way to put that scholarship money to good use."
"You really are something else, you know that?" She hisses through her clenched teeth.
"How so?"
"Let me guess," She starts, placing her hand boldly on her hip, "You knocked my coffee out of my hand on purpose, knowing that I would be awestruck by your floppy hair and starting quarterback position, so I would offer myself up to you right there on the quad."
This is typically where I would say something smart-ass like "You're not my type" or something hateful to practically push her into my bed, because let's be honest, girls totally dig the bad boy thing. Instead, I do the opposite, and it even catches me off guard.
"Actually, dating isn't some type of game to everyone. I'm not on a mission to get with girls so I can parade them in front of my friends like a prize. I watched my dad treat my mom like shit, and I fucked my grades up so bad in high school I barely got into college, so all that scholarship money you are so sour about isn't going to me."
Her face falls, "Well, I don't need you to buy my coffee. Thanks for the gesture, but no thanks."
"How about dinner then?" I try, knowing her answer will be no.
"You really don't give up, do you?"
"I don't like to," I admit, "Besides, I owe you something."
Her face twists into a smile, one I could spend forever looking at it.
"Where do you live?" She asks, rocking back onto her heels nervously.
"An apartment right off-campus. Why?"
"Do you have a roommate?"
Okay, I thought what I said was going to piss her off, not make her want to come over, "No, I don't."
"I'm moving in."
My mouth goes a little dry, trying to figure out her angle, "Uh… what?"
"You said you owed me. I need somewhere to stay. Just until somewhere off-campus opens up. I've tried for a month to get my dorm switched."
Okay, she's certifiably insane.
"You're crazy, you know that, right? You can't just move in with me. We don't even know each other."
"Yeah, well, I didn't know my roommate when I moved in with her either, and you can't be worse than her."
I take a step back, wondering what the actual fuck is going through her mind. This will never work.
"You know that would never work."
"Okay fine, dinner," she agrees.
"No way," I argue, "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner for a week."
"Fine, but you have to help me move my stuff."
