“I have to know,” Jaxon’s deep voice cuts through the night. “Why were you sleeping on that bench?” He’s got a slightly teasing tone in his voice, making me smirk over at him.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” I explain. “That happened by accident.” He arches an incredulous brow, making me laugh. “Obviously I came to read.” I hold up the book that smacked him in the face giving it a little shake to remind him. “I couldn’t sleep, so I grabbed my book and the bench looked like it was the perfect spot. The sleep was by accident.”
“Nice,” he chuckles. “Is this a habit of yours then? Going out in the middle of the night to read?”
“Do you make a habit of approaching sleeping girls in the middle of the night?” I can feel my cheeks reddening with embarrassment at my quick retort. What’s going on with me?
“Touché.” He winks at me. Jaxon legitimately just winked at me. “Let’s chalk it up to an uncharacteristic moment of chivalry. Won’t happen again.”
For some reason, I don’t believe him. He seems chivalrous enough, so I doubt it’s uncharacteristic. I mean, this is only the second interaction I’ve had with him, but both times he’s been helping me in some way.
But I don’t say any of that. Instead, I offer him a tight smile.
When we reach the steps of Stone Hall, I stop awkwardly at the bottom. I don’t know what to do.Do I thank him or headinside? Does he want to stay and talk, or go back to his dorm?See, this is where inexperience sucks ass.
“I’m not sure if I should thank you or not,” I admit. He obviously thinks I made a joke because he barks a quick laugh.
He gives me a wave as I start walking up the steps, “Have a nice night, Candi.”
“Thanks. You too.” But he’s already started to walk away and doesn’t turn back.
Chapter Five
Jaxon
Iknew I’d be tired with everything starting back up this semester, but goddamn am I exhausted.
Coach Hicks has been making us do two-a-day practices, one starting at the ass-crack of dawn and the other after afternoon classes. Between schoolwork and practice, all semblance of social life has vanished. Knowing it was going to happen and living it are two very different things.
“Alright, gather around everyone!” Coach adjusts his ball cap and spits on the ground as the players gather around the pitcher’s mound on the practice field. We’ve been out here since four o'clock and the sun is now beginning to set. At least the weather has warmed up in the last several weeks so we aren’t out here freezing our balls off every night. I just hope it means that we won’t miss dinner in the cafeteria, even if the food is complete shit.
“Now, gentlemen, listen up. You know that we live and breathe baseball around here. Our first game is next week, and we’ve been working hard to get into top shape to beat our rivals over at Liberty College.” Coach Hicks makes a show of looking all of us dead in the eyes. “But we are also a part of this student body, and we support one another here at Rosewood. That being said, there’s going to be a new event that the Student Activities Committee is setting up and they’ve asked for our help.”
Are you fucking serious? I’m tired of being at the beck and call of whoever puts together these events and then takes it to the coaches, giving us no choice in the matter. They always have to drag us into their shit in order to make anything successful.
“This is non-negotiable. You will be participating.” Muffled groans and sharp exhales break out among my teammates. None of us are happy to be doing this, myself included, but I know that Coach has his eyes on me. No matter how hard I want to fight this, I can’t let the guys know.
“It seems like it’s a Valentine’s Date drawing. All of your names will be entered into a bucket, and you will be escorting a lovely Rosewood lady out for Valentine’s Day. I don’t care if you already have a girlfriend, boyfriend, or whatever type of friend. You’re doing this.” Coach’s tone is clear—there’s no getting out of it. “Now go get cleaned up. We’re back bright and early tomorrow morning in the weight room.”
“Is this for real?” Gavin walks over to the dugout and grabs his bag while I find mine. “What if I don’t want to go on a date? Is there no free choice around here?”
I want to agree with him, to bitch and moan about it, but I can’t. What is it that he had called me that night at that party? Hazy half-memories float through my head as I try to recall the details of that night. Oh right, Coach’s golden boy. “I guess so,” I mumble as I shoulder my bag and head for the showers in the locker room. “There’s no use in fighting it. Coach seemed pretty adamant about it.”
“And what drawing is he talking about anyway? Have you seen anything about it?” We squeeze through the fence opening with our bags on our backs, the sound of our cleats striking the pavement when we hit the sidewalk.
I shake my head. “Nah, I haven’t seen anything. I’m guessing that it’ll be posted around campus soon though. Valentine’s Day is in two weeks, so I’m thinking SAC is getting posters together.”
SAC is what we call the Student Activities Committee. They make this big deal about joining during orientation doing their best to rope people in every Fall. They come up with all kinds of different parties and activities for the campus throughout the year. Sometimes they can be fun. I know I enjoyed the Tiki Party Kick-Off at the beginning of the year. Sure, it might have had to do with the girls playing sand volleyball in bikinis, but a good time is a good time.
Sure enough, when I walk through campus to my Business Ethics class in the Beaumont Business Center the next day, there are posters on almost every lamp post and door in sight. They are large red and white posters with an honest-to-God Cupid decked out in wings and a bow and arrow, the wordsCupid’s Shufflescrawled across the top.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Stopping in front of the doors, I read the poster.
“Join Cupid’s Shuffle! A Valentine’s Dating Experience. Enter your name for the drawing to have the perfect date for the big day! To enter, pay $2 to get your name put in the fishbowl. One of Rosewood’s Hunks could be on your arm this Valentine’s Day!”
Who the hell comes up with this shit?
Chapter Six
