Tracks (Rock Bottom) (22 page)

His hair is
unusually blonde, slicked back with every strand in perfect place. His face is tan and smooth and rounded. His eyes are a dark blue and his lips a light pink. Without looking at his body, you can tell by his neck that he’s built like a brick wall. He looks like an All American Football player...like Captain America or something. I thought I was sure men like him didn’t really exist outside of the Abercrombie ads. He shoots me a bright white smile as his eyes open larger. “Hello,” he says in a deep voice.

The sudden attraction I feel towards him catches me off guard, but
I assume that all women would be attracted to someone like him. “Hi,” I say in a meek voice.

I feel Theresa look over at the interaction between us
. The man extends an extremely muscular arm towards me, his huge hand open. “I’m Scott Hillman,” he says, as I put my hand in his. His hand is warm and soft, without the roughness I’m used to.

Of course he is.

“Scott Hillman of the Hillman Company?” I ask. The Hillman Company, as I understand, deals in steel and iron. The family who founded the company is worth billions.

He smiles, embarrassed. His smile is kind, and it shows in his eyes. “Yes. And you
are...”

“Dylan
Ackhart,” I breathe. Our hands are still touching. He finally pulls his hand away and leans over to Theresa. They introduce themselves and Theresa immediately goes back to her computer, apparently not as interested in him as I’m trying not to be.

I turn to
start up my laptop, but he opens his body more towards me. I strain to ignore the huge chest muscles I see almost breaking through his blue collared shirt. “I’m sorry, your eyes…are they contacts?”

I turn my head reluctantly at him. I don’t like looking at him, or the way h
e makes me feel. I feel…guilty.

“No.”

“Extraordinary,” he says, under his breath. We stare into each other’s eyes as he continues to examine mine. More students file in.

“Thank you,” I say, looking down
to break our gaze and blushing.

I feel a rush of relief as the professor walks in, a little man in dark green pants and a white-and-green plaid shirt
with a bowtie. I turn fully towards my computer and pretend to prepare for class.

Class went by pretty quickly, and I was happy to understan
d a lot of what he talked about. I was often the only one who could answer some of his questions. Theresa was barely awake the entire time. I actively avoided looking to my right, but every now and then I’d glance over, and he’d be looking at me.

After class was th
rough, I put my computer away in my bag quickly, purposely rushing. Standing up, I feel him bump into the back of me. He puts his arms on my shoulders to steady me so I don’t fall over.

“Dylan, I’m so sorry. I thought I could squeeze by…”
I look behind him at the rest of the table. No one was there, and it would be a more direct path to the door.

I sigh. I look back into his gorgeous face. “No, it’s ok
ay, really.”

He smiles. “Let me buy you a drink tonight. I’ll make it up to you and w
e can celebrate our first day.”

I look back at Theresa, who is still on my left but standing
now and smiling at me with raised eyebrows. I turn back to him.

“Actually, I work at the bookstore here o
n campus, and I start tonight…”

He smiles.
“Maybe next time.”             

I nod and turn as he lets go of my shoulders. The three of us walk out of the room and onto our
next class.

After our classes end for the day, Theresa and I walk towards the grassy a
rea to the right of the school, where she planned to meet Sean. Tired and overwhelmed from our first day, we walk silently for a while. Finally, Theresa turns to me. “You want to talk about that delicious man that asked you out?”

“No.” I say, curtly.

“You’re right. Anyway, Jeremy is still hotter… and badder… and so sexy. Uh, I hate you!” Theresa says.

I stop when we see Sean waiting on the grass. Theresa waves to him. He’s wearing a white shirt and black pants, and his dark skin almost shines in the
sun. “Sean’s pretty handsome.”

Theresa gets a dumb smile on her face. I roll my eyes. “Yea
h,” she breathes.

Why can’t I be as blissfully happy as her? I feel like someone punched
a big hole in my heart all the time.

I say goodbye to Theresa and take my phone out of my pocket to call Rich. Rich picks me up a few m
inutes later and takes me home.

“This is how you type in a book title someone is looking for,” Sean explains to me later that night at my new job. It’s nice because there isn’t a dress code, so I can wear a t-shirt and jeans. Better yet, I’m allowed to study when it’s slow. Making money while studying- it’s a definite win-win.

He pushes a few simple commands on the computer
that I commit to memory. I ring out a few people and do well, and I feel like I’m getting the hang of everything. Sean sends me out with a cart of books that need to be put away, by section and then alphabetically by author.

I push the cart up and down the aisles, slowly working the books away. It’s almost therapeutic meditation. It’s very quiet and peaceful and I find myself alone with my thoughts. I think of Jeremy strumming his guitar, his wet hair sparkling in the stage lights. The way his eyes sparkle when he gets excited. I hear him laugh, low and sexy i
n my ears. My stomach tightens.

I’m thinking about the way he says my name when he greets m
e. “Dylan,” I hear in my head.

‘Yes,’ I think, and smile. ‘Ju
st like that, but not as deep.’

“Dy
lan,” I hear again, still deep.

I feel something touch my arm. I jump about ten feet in t
he air, and look around, dazed. I look up into the face of Scott Hillman, wearing a gray t-shirt and some jeans. He jumps too.

“
Woah, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He gives me a million dollar smile. I stand in shock.

“Scott?” I say, as a question.

“Yeah, you know I came to buy books, and I thought I’d say hi.” I look at his hands. He’s carrying two coffees.

“Uh,” he says,
holding out one of the cups towards me. “I thought you could use this. We were in class early.”

I stare at the cups for a moment and then look
back up to his face. After a minute of processing, and Scott looking at me like I might be crazy, I take the cup. “Thank you.”

I take a sip, and then push the cart further away from him, sticking a book on the shelf. I don’t know how to handle this situation.
Do I tell him I’m taken? What if he asks me about my boyfriend? Do I lie? What if he’s just being nice and I’m only assuming he’s trying to pick me up?

He walks behind me
, obviously unaware of my polite attempts to get away from him.

“How’s your first day going?
” He asks, nodding to the cart.

“Great,” I say, turning to him to smile and
then turning back to the cart.

“So, did you want to get that drink tomorrow night?” he asks as he follows me.

I sigh. How can I word this right? “Scott,” I begin. I pause as I look at his face, taking in his handsome body. “I’m…I…I just started dating someone. And it’s new, so…”

He smiles and puts his free hand up. “Oh, I’m sorry. I understand. I didn’t realize that was still going on.”

I furrow my eyebrows. “What was?”

He blushes.
“You know, you and Jeremy Ma…”

“
Shhh!” I say, hurriedly. He stops as I look around frantically. He laughs under his breath.

“Dylan,
most
people here wouldn’t care
who
you’re dating. Realize, you’re at Harvard. Some of the most powerful people in the world have their kids here.” He grabs my arm and leads me to the end of the bookshelf, pointing with one finger of his other hand that’s holding his cup. I look at a boy sitting in a chair a few feet from us, reading a text book. “That guy dated Paris Hilton last year. And there’s a guy in our class who dated Chelsea Clinton not long ago.”

I look up at his face, which is much closer to me. He looks down at me, and his face turns seri
ous. I back away. “Oh,” I say.

He drops his hand from my arm. We both sip our coffee
. “Everyone knows who you are.”

I absorb that. I decide that since no one bothered me today, I guess
he’s right, and no one really cared.

“Well, I’
d really like to not advertise that we’re still together all the same. I just want to be private.”

Scott smiles at me. “No, I understand. And
we can still be friends, right?”

“Friends,” I agree.

Scott had stayed with me for a while that
night, keeping me company while I worked. I found that we had a lot in common. He was determined to try to make his own name for himself, and didn’t want to take his parent’s money any more than necessary. He had gotten into Harvard due to his hard work and excellent grades. Although popular due to his success in high school sports, he rarely went to parties. We never ran out of things to talk about, and while that was nice, I didn’t get any studying done at work as I’d hoped.

The next night I also had a shift at the bookstore, and I was surprised to see Scott waiting by the c
ounter for me, coffee in hand.

“Hello,” I say again, smiling at him. He smiles bac
k at me and hands me a coffee.

“Hey, Dylan.
What did you think of class today?” He watches me enter behind the counter and pull my hair up in a ponytail.

“Good, but it is really hard. A lot of work, you know?”
I am surprised to find myself so overwhelmed, to be honest. Usually school was pretty easy for me.

We discuss school, the professors we have, and the few exams we have coming up. By the end of the night, Scott and I agree to study together, since Theresa isn’t
around as much as I would hope. Plus, she’s not as crazy about school as Scott and I are.

We set up a schedule. He would come to my house 3 nights a week after I got off of work to help me. I relaxed a little, hoping that together we could get through the classes.
I guess it is nice to have friends sometimes, after all.

Life from then on continues pretty much as expected. Jeremy and I still talk every night. He’s staying out of the news, and I have no reason to suspect anything. Every three days or so, flowers are delivered to my door, and my house is covered in beautiful roses all the time. He seems so light and happy when he talks to me, and when I talk to him, nothing else exists. When I’m not talking to him, I miss him terribly, but school keeps me distracted.

My Criminal Law class is going really well
thanks to my study buddy, and Scott and I have become great friends. He comes over three nights as planned the first week we agreed to meet. That weekend, however, is the first that Theresa is gone. At first, I actually welcome the aloneness, and I’m able to get a lot done. But the quiet in the house is almost unsettling, especially since I had become accustomed to always being with someone, whether it was Theresa or Jeremy. So Saturday night, Scott comes over and we order a pizza.

Being with Scott is a lot of fun
. He’s so different from Jeremy. He’s laid back and calm, not intense, unless it’s about school. Sometimes it’s hard to remember he’s a zillionaire. His attractiveness is getting easier and easier to handle, especially as Jeremy and I grow closer.

After a while, Scott’s weekend visits become a regular thing. He starts to come on Sundays, too, and even sometimes Friday nights when Theresa has left for Sean’s. We watch movies, play games, and study. My grades continue to stay high and I attribute most of that to Scott.
With the weekend visits and weekday studying, he’s over my house more often than not. I feel myself growing closer to him than I am to Theresa, which surprises me. I’m so happy I could find a kindred spirit in Scott, although he often makes it known that he doesn’t like the idea of me with Jeremy because of his sketchy past. I let him complain at me out of politeness, but I don’t really believe the things he tells me he’s seen on the news.

One night, during one of our debates, he turns to me with a mouth full of pizza. “Dylan,” he says. “You’ve seen th
e news. They guy is a partier. A drinker, a coke-head. A lot of the women he’s been with say he beat them. Trust me, it’s good he’s not around.”

I roll my eyes. “You can’t believe everything
you see on the news. They’ve said some crazy things about me.”

He grabs another slice of pizza. I swear
, that guy eats like it’s his last supper. And yet he’s super fit. Damn him. “Yeah, but a lot of people have said these things. There’s got to be truth in it somewhere.”