Girl Love Happens : Season One Read online

  “You mean like, ‘Oh look, there’s Harrison Ford?’”

  “Where?” April’s eyes panned the restaurant.

  Did she used to ride the short bus to school? Apparently I did but didn’t know it.

  “He does look like Harrison Ford.” April was practically drooling.

  I hugged my arms tighter over my double Ds. “Nope. I’m not falling for it again.”

  “Your loss.” Jenny craned her neck. “He’s gone now, anyway.”

  I laughed. “You think I’m an idiot.”

  Jenny squeezed my shoulder. “Not at all.”

  The contact and words weren’t comforting.

  Gemma raised her finger to get the waitress’s attention. “Can we get the triple chocolate meltdown?”

  “Sure thing, hon. And four spoons?”

  Gem nodded.

  The waitress spun on her heel and nearly smacked into a herd of five dudes on their way out.

  “At least Gemma understands me,” I said, ignoring the leer of one of the guys. My boobs were a magnet for these types of stares that made me want to disappear.

  Gemma smiled broadly. Jenny excused herself to talk to a guy she went to high school with, who had just breezed into the restaurant, and April fled to the bathroom.

  I leaned over to Gemma, her scent blanketing me with a sense of tranquility. “It wasn’t really Harrison Ford, right?”

  Gemma’s smile widened. “No, it wasn’t, although, the guy looked a lot like him.”

  “Good. That’d be my luck.”

  She tilted her head, allowing me complete access to her stunning emerald eyes and making me ashamed of my plain blues. “How so?”

  “Missing out on an opportunity of a lifetime because of my stubborn pride.”

  “Meeting Harrison Ford is an opportunity of a lifetime?” Gemma said, in an inhibited sort of voice, as if her tongue was too large for her mouth.

  My cheeks tingled. “Maybe I overstated it.” I leaned even closer, feeling some type of pull to her, like the sun has on the moon. “Don’t you think he’s hot, though?”

  She laughed nervously.

  Unsure why she seemed ill at ease, I confided, “I’m a huge fan of Indiana Jones. You?”

  “I prefer him in Star Wars. No question.”

  “Star Wars? You’ve got to be joking.” I slapped her arm lightly.

  “I never joke about Star Wars. Have you seen all three?”

  I tapped my index finger against my front teeth, regretting calling attention to the prominent gap. “I saw the one with the furry things.”

  “Furry things?” She scrunched her eyebrows, shaking her head. “You mean Ewoks. Jesus, how can you be a freshman in college if you’ve never seen Star Wars? All of them?”

  “Did someone say Star Wars?” Jenny slid back into her seat, her easygoing smile still affixed. “Who can forget the scene with Jabba the Hut and Princess Leia?”

  Gemma’s face tinged cherry red. Her creamy skin allowed for every emotion she experienced to be put on display. I wondered what color she turned during the heat of the moment. I furrowed my brow, questioning why that particular thought came to mind. Jenny eyed me intently. Surely she didn’t suspect I was wondering what Gemma’s face looked like in the throes of passion. That would be completely weird, right?

  I opted for a smokescreen, just in case. “Maybe I’ll dress up as Leia for Halloween. Would you two like that?”

  “Which outfit?” Jenny asked in all seriousness.

  “I’ll let you choose, as long as you two dress up like characters from the movie.” I wielded my spoon toward Jenny and then Gemma, punctuating the pact.

  “Are you serious?” Jenny inched closer and said in an almost seductive way, “You’re not being a tease, are you?”

  “I never tease about Halloween. It’s holier to me than Christmas.”

  Jenny’s jaw dropped, and she bobbled her head like a child let loose in a 7-Eleven candy aisle with a hundred-dollar bill. Gemma avoided my eyes completely, not lending much insight if she was excited or not about dressing up in ridiculous Star Wars costumes for Halloween. I needed to find a way to help Gemma loosen up some.

  That made me giggle, drawing off some of the discomfort clouding my brain. Indiana Jones was clearly the better movie franchise, not that these two Star Wars bozos would ever see it my way. Or maybe I could wrest them from the dark side, at least Gemma, whose kind eyes watched me intently even though she went to great lengths not to be noticed.

  April returned and rubbed her mitts together when she spied the waitress twirling her way through the rambunctious crowd as she carried the dessert to our table. She clawed her spoon with a look in her eye that brought to mind images of the Donner Party. Had she starved herself all summer in preparation to combat the freshman fifteen?

  Jenny fixed serious eyes on April and motioned for her not to take a bite yet. “Are you a fan of Star Wars?”

  April visibly flinched before looking to Gemma and then me. “Uh, is that the one with Captain Kirk?”

  Jenny massaged her eyes before clopping her hand on April’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “I need to talk to admissions. Clearly they’re letting the wrong people into Hill University.”

  I kicked her shins under the table. “Take that back.”

  April’s smile indicated she thought I was taking her side, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her I was on Indiana’s side.

  Jenny leaned on her forearms and met my eyes. “Don’t worry. Gem and I will convert you. May the force be with you.”

  “Yeah, right. The day you two convert me is the day I’ll eat my own shoe.”

  Jenny glommed onto the table with one hand and swung her head under the table. “Those LA Gears don’t look very tasty.”

  By the time I was able to focus on the matter at hand, the dessert was half gone. April didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed.

  “Shall we get another?” Gemma asked.

  April nodded vigorously.

  I raised my spoon. “Here’s to an interesting year.” I then plunged it into the remaining dessert, swiping a third of it into my mouth.

  An obnoxious squawk and streaming sunlight interrupted my slumber. Rolling onto my back, I opened my eyes, confused as to my whereabouts. To my right was a battered cardboard box, and to my left was a skinny bed. My bed at home was queen-size, meaning I wasn’t in Kansas anymore.

  “You okay?”

  I cranked my head to the right and peered over the box. “What the hell happened?”

  My redheaded roommate smiled broadly. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

  Pinching my eyes shut, I concentrated. “Chocolate of some kind.”

  Gemma nodded. “We ate at Applebee’s and had dessert.” She raked a hand through her hair. “Although, it could have been the chocolate cake shots.”

  “What was in them?”

  “Vanilla vodka and Frangelico hazelnut liqueur.”

  I smacked my lips. “My mouth tastes like fungus, and my brain feels like it’s five times too large for my head.”

  “You need water.” Gemma flipped open the door of the beat-up mini fridge crammed between the two beds.

  That was when it dawned on me I wasn’t in a bed. “Why am I on the floor?”

  “You refused to sleep on your bed.” Gemma twisted the lid off a water bottle. “You didn’t want to spoil your outfit.” She was trying hard not to laugh, but I could hear it in her tone.

  I sat up—or tried to. The room swirled as Gemma eased me upright.

  “Seriously, you need to drink water.” She thrust the bottle into my hand.

  Gulping the water, I had a chance to eye my outfit, if one could call it that. I wore a harmless white long sleeve shirt that didn’t belong to me, a flamingo pink tutu, and had a yellow, green, and black Hula-Hoop around my waist. I rattled the hoop, and the sand inside swished. “No wonder my side hurts. I slept on this.” I shook it again.

  “Insisted on it. You eve
n threatened my life if I took it away.”

  I smothered my eyes both out of shame and because the light was making me ill. “It must have been some night.” Uncovering my eyes, I said, “I’m sorry I threatened your life.”

  Gemma chuckled. “I think threatening to kill someone is the perfect way to start a friendship, don’t you?” Her smile was genuine and warm.

  Even though it hurt like hell, I laughed. “If you say so.”

  Chapter Three

  Monday morning arrived much too soon, along with my mother’s annoying voice once again plaguing my mind in moments of weakness. If there was one thing my mother excelled at, it was to instill the seed of doubt that no matter what, I would never be good enough. I’d received better than average grades in high school, graduating in the top ten percent of my class, but my mother had been reminding me since receiving my diploma that college was a different kettle of fish entirely, where I’d be swimming in a larger pond with bigger and more intelligent fish.

  “It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she’d say. “Some have it and some don’t.”

  Mom never explained what it was, exactly. And she never explicitly said I didn’t have it, but she also never said that I did. Usually I was able to shove these thoughts out of my head.

  “You feeling okay?” Gemma stood in front of the bathroom mirror, her thumb hovering over the on switch of the hair dryer.

  “Never better.” I mustered up the courage to smile and headed to the shower. Attending my first class without showering would be tantamount to riding a horse bareback. Imagining my mother’s reaction, though, did put a smile on my face.

  When I stepped out of the bathroom, fully clothed, Gemma had left for her calculus class. Math had been my nemesis since junior high, and living with someone who was enrolled in Calc 101 reinforced the idea that some have it and some don’t.

  “Get a grip, Tegan,” I chastised myself. Math skills didn’t define a person’s self-worth. What did, though?

  “Tegan!”

  I flipped around on the quad outside the student union and spied Jenny, April, Gemma, and some girl that looked vaguely familiar, sitting at a plastic white table. I waved, relieved not only that I had survived my first week of classes, but I had friends to celebrate the victory with. Of course, I wouldn’t admit to them how intimidated I had been for the past five days. I had nearly hyperventilated when my American history professor went around the room asking each of us why we enrolled in the class. He called on me first, and my initial brilliant response was “Do you need an ego boost or something?” Unsure how the elbow-patched old dude would respond, I scratched it and blurted, “My advisor told me to.” Several in the class laughed, but I sincerely doubted I scored any points with the prof.

  Gemma pulled out the empty chair between her and the mystery girl. “You remember Michelle, Jenny’s friend from high school.”

  I didn’t, and I suspected Gemma knew that, considering how wrecked I was the morning after Michelle’s party. Still, the only recollection I had was chocolate. However, I said, “Of course. How are you?”

  The brunette with oodles of curly hair, big smile, and kind eyes tamped out her cigarette in a makeshift ashtray, which I think was once a coffee cup lid. “You survived your first week. It only gets easier from here. I remember how I felt when I was in your shoes last year. I nearly puked in the shower the first morning.”

  I could have given her a hug for verbalizing the emotions roiling inside.

  “Ah, Tegan’s tough. Aren’t you?” Jenny walloped my shoulder.

  Michelle shook her head and leaned closer to me, but said loud enough for everyone to hear, “Don’t let her façade fool ya. I know Jenny better than most, and she was quaking in her boots before her first class. She even lugged all of her books every day this week, even though I’d told her not to bother.”

  Jenny blushed. “What are you trying to do? Ruin my rep?”

  Michelle reached behind Jenny and yanked on her backpack, which hung on the back of her chair, demonstrating its weight. “Just keeping it real.”

  We all laughed, but April’s was difficult to decipher, considering her menacing eyes were soaking in Jenny’s mortification.

  “I’m not excited about my geology class.” April did her best to sound sincere, but my gut told me nothing about her was real, not even her too perfect, never bouncy boobs.

  “Rocks for jocks. I took that last semester. Whenever I went to the lab, I had to fill out sheets about how each rock was different.” Michelle laughed. “They all looked like rocks. I squeaked by with a C. Have fun with that one.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Jenny tried to soothe April.

  “Now that all of you’ve survived the first week, it’s time to share one of the best parts of Alfrid.” Michelle lit a cigarette, obviously not in a hurry. She exhaled over her shoulder. “Swimming at the reservoir on a gorgeous Friday afternoon.”

  Without looking in a mirror, I knew all color had drained from my face.

  Besides math, bikinis were my nemesis.

  One hour later, the five of us claimed a rocky ledge that provided a semblance of privacy about twenty feet above the water’s surface. Music drifted up from other students dotting the shore below.

  Aside from Gemma and me, everyone in our group wore a bikini. I went a step further and kept a tank top on over my one-piece.

  Fluffy cotton candy clouds hung in the deep-blue sky as if tacked there by a child. The temperature hovered in the low nineties. The surface of the water rippled slightly with the breeze. A cluster of aspen trees off to the right had the beginning speckles of autumn color, reminding me to enjoy the day’s warmth before the chill of the evening descended like a curtain on a stage.

  Jenny lifted the lid of Michelle’s beat-up cooler, initiating a creaking sound straight out of a B-horror flick. “Keystone Light, anyone?”

  Michelle and April indicated they wanted one.

  “Tegan?” Jenny held a blue and silver can as if offering me a precious gift.

  “No thanks. I’m driving.”

  “I can drive home if you want one,” Gemma offered.

  “You don’t mind?” I asked, unsure if that was a good idea.

  “Not at all.” To prove her point, she reached into the cooler for a Coke and popped the top.

  Jenny tossed me the beer. “Now this is living.” She stood at the edge, staring out over the reservoir, guzzling a quarter of her drink. Craning her head to take in the surface below, she asked Michelle, “How deep is the water?”

  “Deep enough to jump in.” Michelle inserted a tape into her boom box. I strained to hear the opening of “Walking in Memphis.” After adjusting the volume, she stood at Jenny’s side and said, “On three.”

  The two of them counted, “One, two, threeeeeee!” They jumped, with their feet pointing down and arms tucked against their sides, from a rocky outcropping that I imagined many students had used as a diving board of sorts. I laughed when I heard the splash and Jenny shout, “Damn, that’s cold.”

  April peered down, uncertainty nibbling at the corners of her confident smile. Gemma laid on her back on a towel, giving the vibe that she had zero intention of budging. I followed suit on my towel.

  “You two staying?” April asked needlessly.

  “Yep,” I answered for both of us, slipping on my sunglasses.

  April shrugged and then jumped. Her squeal when she hit the water was ear-piercing, followed by splashing and something that sounded like hiya hiya hiya, even though I was fairly confident she wasn’t saying hi to the fish.

  Covering my ears, I whispered to Gemma, “She’s never subtle, is she?”

  Gemma laughed. “You need sunscreen?”

  “What did my mom do, pull you aside and instruct you never to let my skin see the sun without a thick layer of protection?” I rolled my head to face her, shielding my eyes, glad to see a smile.

  She rummaged in her bag and pulled out Coppertone with thirty SPF. “Sorry,
but I don’t really tan, and with anything lower, I turn into a lobster.”

  “It’s true, then, what they say about redheads?”

  She blushed, making me wonder what she thought I meant, and then I’d remembered overhearing a guy in high school ask a visiting cheerleader with red hair if the carpet matched the drapes. It was hard to forget the look of scorn on her face.

  Wanting to cover my tracks quickly, I said, “Redheads burn easily.”

  She laughed, relieved—I think.

  I stuck my hand out, and Gemma squeezed sunscreen into my palm. After smearing the lotion onto my front side, I asked, “Would you mind getting the back of my neck and shoulders?”

  “Uh, sure.” Again she sat up. “Do you want to take your tank off?”

  “Nah. I’ve learned the hard way.” I shook my tits. “These are less subtle than April and bring unwanted attention, if you know what I mean.” It was my stock answer as to why I never went without at least a tank top, and it was truthful to a point. “Your hands are soft, unlike my boyfriend’s. And you’re gentler. His idea of rubbing sunscreen makes me feel like an Easter egg being dunked in and out of the dye and ending up only half-covered.”

  When I eyed her over my shoulder, even through my sunglasses, I noticed Gemma’s cheeks matched the Coke can sitting between us. “Don’t forget your face,” I said. “I think it’s already starting to burn.” I squinted at the sky, sucking in a mouthful of fresh air.

  She mumbled thanks.

  I stood and stretched my arms over my shoulder at the foot of Gemma’s towel. Then I jabbed my elbows behind my back, sticking my chest out to relieve the backache from my boobs. “It’s hot, isn’t it?”

  Again, Gemma reddened as if the mere suggestion of the sun scorched her skin.

  The three returned sooner than I’d expected, shivering slightly.

  “Hey wimps, you two should try it out.” Jenny shook her hair, sprinkling water over Gemma and me.

  “Jenny!” I shouted.

  She laughed and grabbed her beer.

  It took April several minutes to arrange herself on her towel. I wanted to say, “It’s a rock; there’s bound to be pokey things.” I caught Jenny eyeing her with interest. There was always one prima donna in every group of girls.