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I whipped my head back, “Did you just say ‘your boyfriend’?”
She leaned closer to me. “Oh that,” she paused, her violet eyes peered into mine, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, ‘Zander, will you be my boyfriend?’ ”
Chapter Eleven
“The best things in life don’t come easy. The fight to get them is what makes them ‘best’.”
Zander
Having Sedona as agirlfriend was awesome. For me, at least. I was now able to tell the world that she was mine. No more hiding.
For her, though, it was like a nightmare turned into reality.
The minute that Chatty Pepper website got wind that she was my girlfriend and posted it on the site, people hounded her like crazy!
Sedona hated being in the limelight. She got freaked out when people took pictures of her. Especially when she was caught unawares. It was one of the reasons why she was skeptical about giving me a chance. Now, everyone wanted a piece of her.
Tanya was my personal source of information on what kinds of stuff were being posted about Sedona. She sent me texts about Chattypepper.com postings. There were pictures of Sedona walking to class, smiling at her friends, putting money in the parking meter, and studying under a tree. Normal shit like that! I couldn’t believe people were so fucking bored with their lives that they took pictures of her and made it seem like the news of the day.
The website even had a contest on who the Hottest Girlfriend in College was. The site posted a picture of her in her yellow bikini along with pictures of her in casual clothes, tagged with:
It takes a beautiful girl to make a “Mighty” one fall. With her long, brunette locks, gorgeous gams, and have you seen her eyes?! It’s no wonder Zander keeps this hottie in check. If you think she’s hot enough for our QB, vote for her now!
She came in at # 3 out of 50. To me, she was # 1. Two blonde girls got # 1 and #2. I guessed the voters liked blondes. I had nothing against blondes. I’ve dated a few of them. I just disagreed with the results. The only reason why I even checked out this online contest was because my frat brothers commented about it. I had no idea they checked that stuff out. Most of them said that my girl was ridiculously hot and that she should’ve won. I was pissed that they were even checking her out in the first place, but there was no point denying her attractiveness. Other men weren’t blind.
My only concern was for Sedona. I constantly treaded on thin ice. I felt that at any point in our relationship, she would say, “Screw this, I don’t want to deal with this hoopla anymore,” and break up with me.
There was that time when I was scared shitless when she called. She had this tired, helpless voice, “Zander, why do you have to be so popular?”
I knew that something was terribly wrong. She told me that some girls were taking pictures of her in the cafeteria of the hospital where she was doing her rotation at. She couldn’t even catch a break. I told her I wished I could make everything better. She dejectedly said, “I know.”
Kieran had the guts to ask her what she was feeling about all the paparazzi crap. She was leaning on my shoulder at that time. She didn’t answer right away. When she finally did, she shrugged her shoulders and had a faraway look in her eyes, “There’s nothing we can do about it.”
Unease crept through me with that statement. She sounded weary of it all. That night, after a couple of rounds of passionate sex, I kissed her and told her, “I wish I could make everything better, babe. I wish I could make the stupid website go away.” I must have sounded as desperate as I felt.
She stared at me and took a deep breath, “I knew what I was signing up for when I became your girlfriend.”
Was she regretting her decision?
I spoke before I thought of it.
“I don’t want to lose you.”
She kissed me and said, “Oh babe, you’re not going to lose me. It’s just difficult sometimes, you know. I’ll never get used to it. I think I’m learning how to deal with it.”
She nuzzled her head against my chin and fell asleep. It pained me to see the shimmer in her lovely eyes go away because of other people’s unfounded interest in our private lives.
The next morning, I called my dad. For a favor.
My dad and I have a good relationship. Good, because he was always busy. It could be better. I was his son. He loved me. But I held different interests from his. He liked business; I liked architecture. He created software; I created plays on the field. I kept in contact with him and mom because I loved them. Although, I talked with Mom more than him.
The last time I asked anything from my dad was when I was 14 years old. I had asked him to spend a weekend with me. We had fun fishing, jet skiing, and surfing. Just the two of us. It was then when I told him that I wanted to keep playing football. He vehemently advised me not to play football. In the end, he just wanted me to happy so he accepted my decision.
So for me to call in a favor, it was a big thing.
My dad’s secretary patched me through his personal line the moment she identified my voice. Ms. Kearnes was a lovely, 50 something year-old lady, who has been with my dad’s company from the beginning.
My dad’s steady, firm voice answered, “Hi son, this is a nice surprise.”
