“Someone as beautiful as you, it’s hard not to believe anything that comes out of that pretty mouth of yours.”
My body catches on fire, and I can feel my blush creeping up my neck. With a grin, I say, “Okay then, Hey Jude.”
“What?”
I look over at him, confused yet again. “Huh?”
“You said, hey, Jude.”
Laughter bubbles in my throat. “I told you that was what I was going to call you from now on!” I explain, not holding in my laughter, but laughing so hard I can’t breathe. He looks down, confused, but soon he’s laughing with me. Catching my breath, I send him a grin before waving. “I’ll see you, Hey Jude.”
“Claire, I still have one more question.”
I stop and turn again. Why do I keep stopping?
“And that is?”
“Can I have your number?”
I smile. I want to give it to him, but then again, I like this little cat-and-mouse chase we have going on. He looks like the kind of guy who likes a challenge, so maybe I'll give him one.
“What for?”
He gives me a deadpan look that causes me to cough to hide my laughter.
“So I can call you,” he says slowly like I’m mentally challenged.
“Sorry–” I say, shaking my head “–I don’t give my number out to strange men.”
“I’m not a stranger. I just followed you all over campus,” he informs me with a smile on his face.
“Oh, that’s true. So I shouldn’t give my number to stalkers either, right?”
I shoot his shocked face a grin and turn around. “See ya, Hey Jude.”
“Oh! A challenge, I see,” I hear him say. I turn to see that he has jumped on the stone wall and now is pointing at me. “I accept this challenge, Claire Anderson. If you think I’m a stalker now, you just wait! I will have your number, and I will get you to go on a date with me, and in the end, I will rock your world!”
“Sure, you will,” I call at him as I continue to walk backward. “Good luck with that.”
“I don’t give up, Claire Anderson!”
I smile widely at him and then turn around, my smile growing. For some reason, I am really excited about this, and I hope like hell he does get my number and gets me on a date, rocking my world in the process. But I’ll be damned if it is going to be easy. Looking behind me, I see that he’s still watching me. A large smile is on his face, making his eyes shine. I roll my eyes and wave when he waves at me. I don’t know what it is about him, but he excites me. No guy has done that, ever. I don’t know what that means, but I’m sure it means something is bound to happen between us. I sort of hope it’s of the naked variety, but then again, maybe it could be more. Maybe he could be what Phillip is to Reese, and I’d live happily ever after. And maybe I’ll start choreographing for Justin Timberlake, and as I’m teaching him a routine, he’ll tell me he’s desperately in love with me and needs me for the rest of his life.
Letting out an aggravated sigh because my life is not a Disney movie – good guys don’t go for girls like me – I cross my arms, hoping to shield my chest from the cold. It is a little nippy for the beginning of October, but I learned very quickly when I came to Tennessee that this weather has a mind of its own. As I round the corner to Fisher Hall, which is the building that houses my dorm, a crowd gathers around something. Since I’m nosy, I make my way to the crowd to see that a group of girls is dancing. Despite the cold, the girls wear little jumpers that are black and have a teal belt. The chest piece is covered with black mesh and crystals. When the girls do a turn, I see that in crystals on their backs it says “Bullies.” I have to admit; they are really
good. Not Reese Allen’s Dance Company good, but good.
When the song ends, the girls stop with big cheesy smiles on their face. They are smiling so hard that I start to smile, which was probably their goal. As everyone claps, one of the girls picks up a megaphone and turns to the crowd.
“Hey, y’all! I’m Rachael Haynes, the captain of the Bullies Dance Girls. We hope you enjoyed our little dance routine, and want to invite all you sophomore girls to tryouts for the University of Bellevue Bullies. We dance at all the home games for the Bullies hockey team and any other event they sponsor. We’re a tight-knit group of girls who love to dance and have fun. Do you feel you’ll fit in? We have five spots open, and we’re looking to fill them with amazing dancers! Tryouts are Tuesday at six at the meeting center in Bradshaw Hall. Grab a flyer, and I’ll see you there!!”
Somehow I intercept a flyer. I don’t know how, or why, for that matter, but soon I’m telling myself that maybe I could try out. It could be fun. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I dial Reese’s number, and she answers on the second ring.
“Hey!”
I smile. I love Reese. She’s honestly one of the best people in my life. She was a little standoffish when I first met her, but we soon grew into friends, and now we have this amazing relationship where she’s basically my mom.
“Hey! Quick question.”