“I’m majoring in business,” Bailey says. “My dream is to go into interior design when I am done with school.”
“And she’s gonna be a mama soon,” I beam. I am beyond proud of my best friend for chasing her dreams while preparing for motherhood. I’m a little jealous, actually. While I know that being pregnant in school isn’t easy, I’ve always wanted to be a young mother myself. My own mom was a young mother and I believe she’s the best of the best. When will it be my turn?
Whenever you manage to find a boyfriend, I tell myself and sigh.
“I did all my gen eds last year,” I say, pulling myself from my inner pity party. “I think I’m going into psychology this year.”
“I’m a psych major, too!” One of the girls smiles at me, and I smile back. We chat a little about our classes, wondering if we’ll run into each other at some point.
“Do either of you have boyfriends?”
One of the freshmen we’ve been talking to is eyeing Bailey up and down, apparently choosing to ignore my declaration that she’s pregnant. Like our personalities, our looks are completely different. Bailey is shorter and very curvy, especially now, with her cute baby bump. Her hair is curly, brown, and long. I am tall and slender, with straight blonde hair and bright blue eyes. I’ve been told by drooling guys that I’m beautiful, but I definitely don’t always see it. I don’t have the same sparkle in my eye that Bailey does.
“I have a boyfriend,” Bailey says, noticing the freshman checking her out. He visibly deflates, and I try not to laugh. Bailey’s boyfriend Christopher is older, successful, and incredibly hot. They live together off-campus, and Bailey is happier than I’ve ever seen her. The kid in front of us doesn’t have a chance.
“Do you?” he turns to ask me with hope in his voice.
“Sure don’t,” I say, as cheerfully as possible, tossing my hair over my shoulder. “Still waiting for Mr. Right.”
That’s not entirely true. I know who my Mr. Right is, but the problem is that he has no clue that I’ve been lusting after him for years now. What am I thinking? There’s no way that he would ever notice me in that way anyhow…
“You’re single? How is that possible?”
Over the heads of the freshmen, a taller guy aims a smirk at me. I tilt my head, not-so-secretly regarding him. I think I’ve seen him around campus before; that combination of dark hair, blue eyes, and dimples is hard to forget. He’s hot shit and obviously knows it.
“You’re sweet,” I tell him in a sugary voice, taking a sip of my drink. “Guess I am just enjoying my time alone.”
“That’s a shame,” he says, coming up alongside me, ignoring all of the freshmen and Bailey. “You’re too gorgeous to be by yourself. You should let someone make you happy.”
“And who,” I ask archly, “might that someone be?”
He smiles, and there are those dimples, lending a boyish charm to his expression. “I’m Carter,” he says, extending a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
I shake it.
“Kara.”
Suddenly, my friend’s voice interrupts our conversation.
“Be right back, Kara. We’re gonna go get some refills.”
Sure enough, Bailey is leading the freshmen back into the party. When I quirk a brow at her, she mouths you’re welcome and grins. I almost call her back, but then I’d have to confess that there’s someone else on my mind, someone else I’d much rather be flirting with than a random guy. Unfortunately, I’m not quite ready to divulge my secrets yet.
“So, Kara,” Carter says, unabashedly flickering his gaze down my body and back up again. “What brings you here tonight?”
It’s all too clear why Carter is here: he’s looking for a hookup. I can sense the prowling energy radiating from him a mile away. I am definitely not interested though, not when Mr. Right is on my mind. Still, there’s nothing wrong with a little harmless conversation.
“I just love people,” I say truthfully. “I love meeting new friends and seeing old ones all at once.” I decline to ask why he’s here, when I already know the answer, and something tells me he’ll make it all too clear soon.
“I have a lot of friends,” Carter says, leaning against the railing of the deck. “Maybe you could come home with me and meet them.”
There it is. It took a total of thirty seconds for him to ask me to hook-up. That must be a new record.
“I’m having a good time here,” I say, smiling disarmingly. Hoping to change the subject, I say, “So what are you majoring in, Carter?”
His lips crease into a frown. Apparently, he’s not interested in small talk.
“I’m going to be an athletic trainer,” he says, and puts his hand on my arm. “I could show you some stretches.”