David: Sophomore Year (Three Daves #1) (2 page)

David remained silent, staring blankly at Jen’s shoes as she walked toward him. She sat next to him. Touching her fingertips to his chin, she lifted his face, grasping his dark eyes with her brighter ones. “You’re going to have to force yourself to move on. I’m ordering you to go out with Beano and Fred tomorrow night. It’s Saturday. You can’t stay home, and I already have plans.”

“We’ll see.” David’s eyes again dropped toward the gleaming wood floor. In the eighth frame, Jen managed to knock out a corner pin with her second ball. David finally paid attention to the score. “Wow, you suck.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment seeing as bowling’s for dorks and losers. I notice you’re pretty good at it, though.” She threw David a teasing glance.

As he cast a sideways look at her, a genuine smile twitched the corners of his mouth. Jen wasn’t sure if she imagined it, but she thought she saw a spark dance in the gloom of his deep, dark eyes. She liked being the person who’d put it there.

Chapter 2

Jen’s phone rang early Sunday afternoon. It was David. “Hi!” she said. “Did you go out last night?”

“Yeah. Did you?”

“Yep. Maria dragged us all to a party where we knew no one so that she could meet up with a guy she met at happy hour on Friday. It was kind of lame. Did you have fun?”

“No. It was a disaster—I saw Ashley.” Something in his tone sounded accusing.

“Uh oh…”

“We were up at the front of this house shooting pool, and then Ashley walked in with some people I’ve never seen before. She said hi as they passed, like we’re just friends from class or something. Like she didn’t just rip out my heart and tap dance all over it. She went to the back room and never even gave me a second glance.”

“Oh, David.” Her advice to go out and party had backfired. She had to make this right. “Did you go to church this morning?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Church. You’ve heard of it, right? It’s been known to help people who’re down on their luck.” Although Jen’s church attendance was spotty when not living under her parents’ roof, she often felt a sense of peace settle over her when she did attend.

“Not really my scene,” David said.

“Well, neither is being single, yet here you are. There’s a four-thirty service tonight. Want to go with me, or would you rather stay in and sulk?”

“First bowling, now church. You really know how to show a fella a good time.”

“You can say no.”

He let out a sound that was half groan, half sigh. “What time should we head over?”

“I’ll meet you in the Pemberley lobby at four-fifteen.”

When she got there, David was waiting in the lobby with his denim coat on. He smiled when he saw her, inciting a hint of the customary rush of adrenaline.

They walked together to the classroom auditorium where the service was held since there was no Catholic church close to campus. Two hundred flip-seat chairs gradually descended toward the stage at the front of the room. They sat in the center of a row midway down. Pots of mums surrounded by foil wrapping in autumn colors decorated the stage at the foot of the podium and makeshift altar.

“No danger of running into Ashley here,” David muttered. Throughout the service, he watched Jen for cues on when to stand, sit, and kneel. He flipped through the booklet during the sermon, occasionally stopping on a page to examine it more closely. As soon as Mass ended, he and Jen followed the other students through the door at the back of the room to the campus’ central square. The outside temperature had cooled and a slight wind kicked up.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” David said, “but I didn’t get much out of it.”

“Yeah, I picked up on that after about the fifth yawn.” Jen tapped her temple, indicating her genius-level powers of perception. She was running out of ways to try to help him feel better. “Want company for dinner?”

“I’m so sick of campus dining.” He shoved his hands into his coat pockets.

“Then let’s grab Jimmy Johns. My treat.”

“Why should you treat?”

“Because I suck at making you feel better.”

He gave her a sideways glance as they moved down the sidewalk in the direction of the restaurant. “It’s not your job to make me feel better. But I do appreciate you trying. The sandwiches are on me. Mind if we get them to go?”

“That’s fine,” she answered, though she thought keeping him out in public would be a better way to improve his mood.

The shop was nearly empty, so they soon had their sandwiches and were heading back toward the south quad, each holding their own separate bag. David’s pace slowed as they approached Pemberley. “I don’t want to go back in there. Not yet. I know all I’m going to do is revert back to sulk mode. Did I tell you I deleted all my accounts on the social networks last night when I got back?”

“All of them?”

“Yep. Twitter, Snapchat, Instagram. Boom. Gone.”

“That seems a little extreme.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “I didn’t use them that much to begin with. Mostly just to keep in touch with her before she was here. Now they’d only serve as a torture device, showing me pictures of her with other guys.”

“You could’ve just stopped following her.”

“I guess.” He stared at the door to his dorm, his brow furrowing.

Jen slipped her hand around the cold fingers of his free hand. “Come back with me. We can eat in my room and listen to music. Or watch a movie or something.”

He smiled and gave her hand a small squeeze before letting go and gesturing toward Longbourn. “Lead the way.”

A few minutes later, they stepped into her room. As Jen had expected, her roommate wasn’t yet back from her weekend in Chicago. She set her sandwich on the desk and searched for the TV remote.

David set his bag next to hers and ran his fingertips along the purple leather cover of a book that boldly proclaimed Bible across the front. “Are you some kind of closet nun?”

“Shut up! My mom mailed it because I forgot to pack it.” She’d emphasized “forgot” with air quotes. “And just so you know, over seventy percent of American’s identify as Christians, so having a Bible and going to church every once in a while hardly makes me a freak.”

“I was just joking.” David held his hands up in surrender, making Jen realize she’d been overly snappish. It was the nun comment that had struck a nerve. David quirked an eyebrow, studying her. “I didn’t realize you were sensitive about religion. I’m sorry.”

She waved her head from side to side. “It’s not that. It’s…”

“What?”

She let out a long sigh. “You’ve been open with me about your personal issues, so…sit down. I’m going to tell you something, but you have to promise not to laugh.” They sat on Jen’s bed, and she spread a towel between them, making a picnic table for their dinner. “Let’s eat while I tell you so it doesn’t feel like such a major deal.”

They unwrapped their sandwiches, and after chewing and swallowing her first bite, Jen said, “I’m a virgin.”

David’s eyes went wide. He forced the huge hunk in his mouth down his throat before speaking. “Seriously? I’d never have guessed that.”

She scrunched her eyebrows together. “I’m not sure how to take that.”

“I just mean…I’ve seen you with guys, and the way they look at you, and you’re kind of a party girl, so I figured…”

“Yeah, well, you figured wrong.” She wished she hadn’t told him.

“Don’t get defensive. I think it’s cool. Really. And it’s your choice, anyhow, so it doesn’t even matter what I think. Are you...are you waiting until marriage?”

“God, I hope not. But I am waiting until I’m in love, and until the guy loves me, too, and we’re in a committed relationship. That hasn’t happened for me yet.” She looked down, staring at her lap, no longer feeling hungry. She’d kissed a ton of guys since arriving on campus freshman year, had even gone on a few legit dates, but no real relationship had materialized. Not that she had a problem with being single. For many reasons she preferred it that way, but by the ripe age of nineteen, having never had a boyfriend, she couldn’t help but worry that something about her might not be boyfriend-worthy.

“It’ll happen. You’re a great girl,” David said. “I can’t be the only guy who sees that. It’s just a matter of you finding someone who’s good enough for you.”

A reluctant smile spread across her lips. David was so sweet. Ashley was an idiot to let him go. “Thanks. Can we talk about something else now?”

“Sure.” He took another giant bite of his sandwich. As he chewed, his eyes wandered around her room. “Nice posters,” he said after he’d swallowed.

They talked about
Sherlock
for a while and moved on to other TV shows and movies they both enjoyed. There were a lot of them. When they’d finished their dinner, Jen wadded up the papers. She got up to throw them away and folded the towel. While she straightened up, David reached for the Bible and leafed through it. By the time Jen returned to sit next to him, he seemed absorbed in reading. “Holy shit. This is pretty raunchy,” he said.

“You must be in the Old Testament.”

He flipped another chunk of pages, reading quietly for a few moments before commenting again. “Killing crowds of people with a donkey jaw. Good stuff.” He slouched against her cushioned bolster, his eyes continuing to scan the pages. Sometimes he read out loud, sometimes he didn’t. Eventually, he’d slouched so far that his head lay on Jen’s shoulder. She shifted to reach her arm around him and absentmindedly combed her fingers through his hair, playing with the crunchy tips.

After he’d finished reading a brief passage aloud, he tilted his head to look at her. Their faces were only inches apart, and for the first time, Jen felt awkward with him. Too intimate. She fought to control her sudden anxiety—he was too well positioned to feel the increased thump of her heart.

She shrugged away, slipping her arm from behind his neck. David’s head bounced against the cushion. “We need music,” she said to explain her urgency to get away from him. “I’ll put on my newest obsession. Chris introduced me to Bob Marley. Do you ever listen to reggae?”

“Only when I’m getting baked.”

On instinct, Jen shot him a reproachful look. She may have embraced underage drinking, but she drew a line at smoking anything except an occasional cigar.

“Which isn’t very often,” David added, picking up on her disapproval.

She connected her phone with the mini speaker, and the gentle beat of steel drums vibrated into the room. Jen smiled. The mellow rhythm settled onto her, wrapping her in a sense of peace and satisfaction, just as it had that first day she’d heard it flowing from the open doorway of Chris’ room. David had remained in his half-reclined position against her bolster. She felt silly for getting scared by the close contact. Wasn’t that what she’d wondered “what if” about all last year?

She knew it was unwise to start up anything with a guy on the rebound, but he’d barely mentioned Ashley since the phone call. Maybe he was recovering sooner than expected. Spurred on by the it’s-all-good lyrics playing in the background, she sauntered back over to her bed and sat close to David. Resting her elbow on the top of the bolster, she tickled her fingers back into his thick, dark hair. He continued thumbing through the book, leaning into her touch.

“You can borrow it if you want,” Jen offered, keeping her voice purposely quiet, barely on the edge of flirtatious. She wanted to put signals out there, but didn’t want to be overt, in case he wasn’t ready.

The door to the room slammed open, and Kate’s luggage appeared, followed by Kate. David sat straight up and reached a hand to his hair, straightening the mess Jen had made of it. Kate raised an eyebrow. Despite having just spent hours on a train ride from Chicago, her long, blond hair was as straight and glossy as ever. Her conservative khakis and button-down blouse looked as if she’d just pressed them.

“We were reading the Bible.” For some reason Jen felt a need to explain David’s presence in their room.

“Yeah, right,” Kate said.

David held up the book. “I swear.”

“The Bible says not to swear.” Kate turned her back toward them, hoisting her suitcase onto the bed.

“I’d better get going.” David rose to standing and turned toward Jen.

“Okay, bye.” Jen wasn’t sure how to handle his exit. She wanted to walk him out, but that would only fuel Kate’s unspoken insinuation. If Jen was honest with herself, she’d know the insinuation wouldn’t have bothered her if it’d been true. She stayed seated and gave David a half wave. “See you around.”

“Yeah. See ya.” He left, and Jen spent the rest of the evening with a bad feeling gnawing at her gut. She and David had had such a great afternoon together, and she wished she hadn’t been so dismissive at the end.of it. Any hints she might’ve given to David that she was interested had probably been erased. If she was ever going to be able to start up a real relationship with a guy, she’d have to grow a pair and stop worrying what her friends might think.

Chapter 3

Jen’s concerns over having discouraged David didn’t last long. He texted her two days later and they met for lunch between classes. Over the next few weeks, they saw each other frequently. Sometimes they talked about Ashley, but more and more often, they didn’t.

The phrase “read the Bible” had become common among Jen’s friends, as in: “I’d totally read the Bible with that guy.” The girls of Longbourn Hall made no secret of suspecting more than friendship between Jen and David. The more they teased her about it, the more Jen believed it, too. Still, David had yet to make a move.

On an early November afternoon, he texted Jen that he was at Mike’s, a burger place just north of campus. He said if she could be there within the next ten minutes, he’d buy. She’d just trudged through an hour straight of note-taking in Principles of Accounting I and was in desperate need of levity. Walking around the imitation castle that served as the university’s administration building, she responded that she’d be there in three.

She crossed the street and transitioned from the bright light of the sunny day into the dark, pub-like atmosphere of Mike’s. Blinking to clear the glowing remnants of daylight from her eyes, she found David sitting at a worn wooden booth table. He already had two menus and two glasses of ice water. Jen dropped into the seat across from him.

David nodded toward the menu in front of her. “Order whatever you want. It’s on me.”

“What’s the occasion?” Jen asked.

“We’re celebrating the fact that I’m no longer holding out hope of Ashley and I getting back together.”

“Good for you.” She lifted her cup to tap it against his. Her smile was forced—she hadn’t realized he’d still been hoping for a reunion this whole time. The new information made her second guess all the signals she’d thought he’d given her these past few weeks.

Silence settled upon them, making Jen self-conscious, worried David could read her thoughts. She grabbed her glass and took a long sip. He did the same. As he swallowed, his expression turned sullen, reminding Jen of the first days after the breakup.

Half joking, she said, “Would you like me to post on the community Facebook page that you’re officially back in the market?. You should have a long line of eager girls to choose from in no time.” She hoped she’d kept any bitterness out of her tone. She had no right to be mad at David for not returning her interest. He’d never said he wanted anything more than friendship. He’d needed a confidante, someone to help him through his hard time. That’s what she was for him. Nothing more. And nothing less.

She’d have to set her friends straight on the Bible thing, but really, she was no worse off than she’d been all last year. Plus, she and David had become even better friends during the past couple of months. That was a good thing. She just had to stop expecting it to turn into anything more.

David shook his head in response to her question. “I’m not sure I’m completely back on the market. I’m on a dating hiatus, I guess. The only reason I’d want to date anyone right now would be to make Ashley jealous.”

“So you’re not actually past the idea of you two getting back together.” Despite her good intentions of just moments ago, Jen felt like someone had just dropkicked her heart.

David let out a huff. “Maybe not completely. But almost. What do you want to eat? I’ll go up and order.”

Jen forced herself to concentrate on the menu and ended up getting what she always got—a bacon cheddar burger with a side of sweet potato fries. When David returned from the counter after placing the order, Jen asked, “Have you ever thought about doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Dating someone to make Ashley jealous?”

“Wouldn’t that be mean to the other girl?”

“The other girl would have to be in on the plan. You couldn’t lie to her.”

He lowered his thick eyelashes, focusing on the clear, bumpy surface of his glass. “How about you?”

“Me what?”

“You be the girl I date to make her jealous.” He kept his gaze lowered, wiping streaks in the condensation with the tip of one thumb.

Jen opened her eyes wide, giving him a firm and immediate, “Not a chance.”

“Why not?” He jerked his head up. Jen was surprised by the intensity of his glare.

“Because…” she started, looking at him and then away. She was tired of fighting off the “what ifs” and obviously wasn’t any good at it. Setting herself up as his fake girlfriend would only be jumping headlong into the trap of hoping things would turn real. Besides, why would she want to help him get back together with someone like Ashley? Of course, she couldn’t tell him any of these reasons. “Just no, all right?”

“Don’t get so tense. Forget it,” David snapped. The guy from behind the counter came over and dropped their baskets of burgers onto the table. David stared at his, not making any move to eat it.

“David, don’t be mad. I just—”

“I said forget it.” He snatched the hamburger from the basket and bit off a third of it at one go. His jaws worked double time, grinding the meat. Before he’d finished chewing, he shoved two fries into his mouth.

Jen shrugged and bit into her own burger. When the silence stretched on, she asked, “How were classes today?”

“Fascinating,” he mumbled through the hunk of food in his mouth. He continued shoving more in, as if he stood to win a truckload of cash for being the first to finish.

Jen took another halfhearted bite of the bacon and beef, then sat back, twirling a skinny fry between her thumb and forefinger, not able to work up the desire to eat it. David was already almost finished. “I guess I’ll get a box for this,” she said.

David stood. “I’ll get it for you.”

He was back in a flash, leaving Jen with no time to figure out how to make this better. She wanted to be supportive of her friend, but fake dating wasn’t an option. The only thing she could do for now was let David work his own way out of his snit. She boxed her food, and as soon as they walked out the front door, he made an excuse to go in the opposite direction of her.

He didn’t text or call Jen for a full week afterward. She didn’t see him again until the following Thursday as she crossed the central quad on her way to the library. He stood by a fat, nearly leafless oak tree, bouncing a hacky sack, his mouth pulled tight in concentration. She stopped dead upon first spotting him and almost turned around to head the other way, but resisted the instinct. The friendship wasn’t over just because of one stupid conversation—at least not on her end.

There could be a million different reasons he hadn’t gotten in touch during the past several days. He may have simply been busy with schoolwork. She had been, too. The only way she’d find out if he was intentionally avoiding her would be so say hi.

The tiny sack bounced off his knee a couple of times, then fell further to be kicked straight up by his deft ankle.

“Show off!” Jen shouted.

He caught the toy in his hand and jerked his head toward her, breaking into a wide grin. Tiny, happy prickles ran up Jen’s arms, bringing a relieved smile to her face.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

She moved down the sidewalk toward him. “To the library. I have research to do for a big econ paper.”

“Wrong answer,” David said. “You’re coming over here for your first hacky sack lesson.”

“I suppose I have time for a short one.” She threw her backpack onto the dried leaves at the base of the tree.

He started her out with a basic knee bounce. “You’ve got to meet it right about here.” He slid his hand under the bend of her knee, holding her leg in the proper position. “Okay, try it.”

He handed Jen the sack. She dropped it, lifted her knee…and the sack hit the ground. David continued his verbal instruction, and Jen eventually made contact with the bag, but rarely achieved so much as two bounces in a row.

David stood back, watching her, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the tree. “Nice form.”

“Liar.”

“Oh, well, yeah, your technique stinks. But nice form.”

She tuned to see his eyes meander up her body, from her ankle-high boots, over the curves of her jeans, and to her face. He winked, and she flushed. It was the first time he’d ever overtly flirted with her.

“Maybe we should try something different.” He stepped away from the tree and put his hands on her hips, turning her so that her back was to his chest. Though they were separated by her ribbed down coat and his hoodie/jean jacket combo, she was warmed by his body heat. “Mirror me,” he said, lifting his leg and reaching across her body to slide his hand under her thigh and lift it side-by-side with his.

Jen was much too distracted by the contact to pay attention to anything he said after that. Like a robot, she mimicked his movements, keeping her leg pressed to his as it pumped up and down. David alternated dropping the sack onto his leg and then hers. She was broken from her trance when she heard a laugh in the distance. Something about it sounded vaguely familiar. Glancing over, she recognized Ashley’s strawberry blond curls pulled up into a high ponytail. David’s ex was walking across the opposite edge of the quad with a few other girls. Jen flicked her gaze at David, but his concentration stayed fully on their game.

She slid her eyes back across the square until Ashley and her friends disappeared from her sight. Lowering her leg, she took a step away from David. “I really do need to get working on that paper. This was fun, though.”

“Yeah. I should probably do something productive, too.” They hoisted their backpack straps onto their shoulders. “Hey, I’m sorry I was a jerk the other day.”

She nodded. “No worries. I’m sure I’ll make it up to you one day.”

He smiled. “Do you want to do something this weekend?”

“Um, sure, yeah.” Was he asking her on a date?

“I’ll be in touch.”

* * *

The next day, Jen’s phone vibrated with a text during her sociology class. She was sitting in a large lecture hall, so it was easy to pull out the device unnoticed by the professor.

David: Mitchell’s laid hands on something heretofore only considered myth. He’s prepared to unveil it Saturday night to a select few. Would you like to be one of the few?

Jen: Ummmmm sure?

David: Great. I’ll swing by your dorm at 8ish.

Jen: Are you going to tell me what this mythological creature is?

David: Nope.

Jen was waiting for him in the Longbourn lobby when he showed up at eight-fifteen. They headed west, just off campus toward the house where Mitchell lived. Jen had met Mitchell the previous year but hadn’t ever been to his place.

Nothing in David’s actions indicated one way or another whether he intended this to be a date. “What’s your tolerance for suspense and gore?” he asked as they walked along the cracked sidewalk spanning a row of small houses. This late in the year, it was already dark outside. The overcast sky didn’t even provide starlight. Only a faint glow from the moon made it through the haze.

“David, seriously—what is this thing?”

He grinned. “It’s not too late to back out.”

“Do you want me to?” She stopped, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What? No. Come on.” He ran his fingertips along the side of her arm. When she loosened her stance and dropped her hands, he grabbed onto one of them. “I’ll protect you.” He tilted his head and, from what she could see by the light of a decrepit streetlamp, gave her a gentle smile.

If she was any kind of cool, she’d have smiled back or squeezed his hand. Maybe even have winked and said something sassy like, “You better.” But no. Instead of being cool, she was frustrated by not being able to decipher whether or not she was on a date. She didn’t need any more mystery added to the evening. Slipping her hand from his hold, she said, “Just feakin’ tell me what it is already!”

“It’s a VCR.” He resumed walking, and Jen kept step beside him.

“A what?”

“Video…erm, something-that-begins-with-C recorder.”

She punched him in the side of the arm. “How is that scary? And how is that mythical when I watched
The Little Mermaid
on a VCR about a thousand and eighty times when I was little? A mermaid would be mythical. See the difference?”

David gestured toward the front stoop of what she presumed was Mitchell’s house. “I guess extinct would be a better word for it. Mitchell found the last living one. It’s what we put in it that might scare you.” He waggled his eyebrows up and down and pushed the door open.

Mitchell was there, along with five other people, two of whom Jen hadn’t met before. David introduced her to them and grabbed two cans of Old Style from a cooler, handing one to Jen.

Mitchell was kicked back on a ratty recliner with the footrest fully extended. “You’re late, dude.”

“Sorry, man. We can get right to it. Slide over, Beano,” David said to his friend with full-on ’fro of long, curly brown hair.

Beano inched toward the center of the sofa, leaving a cozy space for two on the end where David and Jen squished next to each other. Jen didn’t complain.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mitchell said, lifting an enormous remote control and pointing it at a silver box by the TV. “I give you…
The Hitcher
.” He let out a bogeyman chuckle.

Jen had never heard of the movie. “What’s it about?” she whispered to Daivid.

“Just what it says—a hitchhiker. Are you cold?”

“Shut it!” Beano said, so Jen nodded her yes. Either the house was poorly insulated or the college students living there were too cheap to turn up the heat. David reached over the side of the couch and pulled up a fleece blanket emblazoned with the CIU logo. He threw it over both of them and found Jen’s hand underneath, curving his fingertips over her knuckles and between her fingers to pull her palm to rest on his thigh.

Okay
, she thought.
This is definitely a date
. Now she was glad she hadn’t known for sure ahead of time as that would’ve only made her more nervous. Someone from the other end of the couch tossed packets of movie candy onto their laps. “Thanks,” Jen whispered, only to be silenced by a harsh, “Shhhh!”

Even with the wobbly quality of the old VCR tape and the constant, low whirring of the machine, the morbid psychological thriller was terrifying. As the plot thickened, Jen buried herself deeper and deeper into David’s warm side. Before long, his arm was around her. By the time the kid in the movie found a finger in his french fries, Jen’s nerves were pushed as far as they could go. She screamed and threw her half of the blanket over her head with no intention of ever emerging—or at least not until the credits were safely rolling.