Chapter Ten
“That was brutal,” Jameson declared as soon as Professor Maken wrapped up our shared Econ class on Wednesday.
“No kidding,” I agreed. My brain felt fuzzy after the information dump I just sat through. I didn’t know what I wanted to major in yet, although I knew I was running out of time to decide, but I did know that anything involving Economics was out.
I packed up my notebook, textbook and various other things and then slipped my backpack on both shoulders. Jameson was waiting on me when I was finished, so I led the way up the stairs and out of the classroom.
I was not at all used to being friends with Jameson. Fin was hard enough to handle. Now I had Jameson wanting to sit by me every class and following me around after. It was bizarre. I just wasn’t used to having a whole lot of friends in general, let alone popular, hot, seniors that could probably be anywhere else but with me. Girls and guys stopped to talk to him on our way through the building. He nodded his head and said hello, but stayed with me until I reached the sidewalk outside.
I ducked against the constant drizzle and biting wind of the spring afternoon and headed toward the student union without really giving Jameson much instruction. He followed and I didn’t know what to think.
Running through the rain, didn’t give us much opportunity to talk though until we were inside the warmth and dryness of the student union. Shaking out his dark auburn hair he flashed me a perfect smile from underneath his shaggy hair.
“This weathersucks,” he groaned. “It’s supposed to stay like this all week and we have all day practice tomorrow for the meet.”
“Oh, you guys have a meet this week?” I asked, flipping my own damp hair over my shoulder. I was regretting my outfit today. In an effort to dress less missionary I wore a pair of black leggings and a royal blue tunic-style tank top that landed just below my hips that I borrowed from Britte. I had a long gray cardigan that covered half of my ass, but now that I was damp and soggy my clothes were clinging to me uncomfortably.
Jameson was in the middle of texting so he took a moment to finish and send before he answered me. “Yes, it’s a five day-er. Going to come show us some support?” He waggled his eyebrows and I laughed at him.
Britte walked over from our regular table and joined us. “Hey,” I greeted her. I was actually supposed to just meet her, but now I wasn’t really sure what to do with Jameson or how to get rid of him. “Jameson wants to know if we’re going to support him at his meet this week.”
Britte laughed before she could stop herself. “Sure, that sounds like us.”
“We could make posters,” I suggested, shooting her a devious smile.
“And t-shirts!”
“And sit in the front row!” I laughed harder.
“We could even do that thing, where people clap their hands and jump up and down and….” Britte trailed off pretending to be confused.
“Cheer?”
“Yes, we could cheer!” Britte ended on a high-pitched squeal and we both burst into laughter.
“So, you guys just hate organized sports or what?” Jameson asked, not at all entertained by us.
“We’re just kidding,” I shot him a smile, hoping he would relax. “I go to every one of Beckett’s games whenever my parents are in town and they make me.”
Britte started laughing all over again.
“Yeah, but baseball is boring,” Jameson insisted.
And he was right. Baseballwasboring, and it was definitely the worst of all my brothers’ sports. I enjoyed watching the actual game of tennis the most when Lennox played. I even liked playing tennis. But Grayson’s wrestling career was by far my favorite, for obvious reasons. Grayson excluded, I was not about to complain about watching sweaty boys wrestle around…. Beckett and baseball was something I endured, although I recognized that he was an incredible athlete and did the best job he could at making it exciting.
“Truth,” I agreed with Jameson.
“So you should try a meet, you might like it.” He was not going to give up on this.
“She ran track, J. The girl knows what a meet is like,” Fin’s rumbly voice in my ear caused me to about jump out of my skin. Gah.Jameson’s text message. Darn him.
“Traitor,” I mumbled at him crankily. He retaliated with one of his heart-stopping smiles. Fin won hands down in the perfect-features-overalls, but Jameson had amazing teeth and when he smiled his whole face lit up. It helped that his skin was flawless and whenever it heated with emotion or exertion it turned the most attractive shade of pink in just the high planes.
“We look out for each other,” he explained and I wanted to roll my eyes. But I didn’t. I’d already offended him by making fun of cheering for him and I didn’t think his ego could take much more.
I knew better than anyone that boys were sensitive.
Before I could come up with anything sarcastic to retort Fin put a heavy arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his side. I wiggled a little, uncomfortable with being so connected to Fin in public. Either my brother’s spies were going to see us or people really were going to start putting us together as a couple. I highly doubted anybody knew who I was, but Fin was like a mini-celebrity and it made me nervous that he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off me.
