Page 61 of Promising You
“Then it’s a good thing we met.” He flashes the dimple again. “So far I haven’t found the people here to be very friendly.”
“They’re kind of cliquey, especially the ones from Connecticut. Some of them went to the same high school. Oh, and you should know that these people have no idea what’s in the middle of the country. If you tell them where you’re from, they’ll look at you all confused. I’ve told people a million times I’m from Iowa and half of them still think I’m from Ohio.”
He laughs. “That explains it. I was telling some people in my dorm that I’m from Illinois and they keep asking me if I liked growing up in Indiana.”
“See? And it’s no use trying to correct them. I tried and they still think I’m from Ohio.” I hoist my backpack onto my shoulder. “Well, I should get going. I’ll see you at lab.”
He follows me out of the building and walks with me across the open quad. “Hey, um, I don’t mean to bother you, but do you think we could maybe have lunch and you could tell me more insider secrets about the school?”
I stop walking and turn to face him. Wow. He’s really good looking. And he’s tall. Maybe 6’4 or 6’5? He seems desperate for someone to be friendly to him. I’m usually not very friendly, but I know how much it sucks to not know anyone and I feel like I should be nice to the only other Midwesterner on campus.
“I could do lunch. Are you free at noon?”
“Yeah, but I was gonna get the lab supplies at 12:30. Could we meet earlier than that?”
“Let’s say 11:30. Which dorm are you in?”
“That one over there.” He points to the one next to mine.
“Okay, I’ll meet you in your dining hall at 11:30.”
“Great. See you then.”
When I get back to my room I realize that I just agreed to have lunch with a really cute guy who isn’t Garret. Is that bad? It shouldn’t be, so why do I feel guilty? And why did I purposely arrange to eat at Carson’s dorm and not mine? It’s not like the girls from my floor would see me with Carson and assume I’m interested in the guy, would they? That’s ridiculous. It’s just lunch. Am I not supposed to eat a meal with a guy ever again? That doesn’t seem right.
At 11:30 Carson is waiting for me at the entrance to the dining hall. As we get into line, I feel like everyone is staring at us, gossiping about how I’m cheating on Garret. But I’m not cheating. I’m just having lunch. And nobody is staring. It’s just my guilty conscience telling me they are.
We take a seat at a table in the corner. I’m starving because I never ate breakfast.
“You must really like fries,” Carson says, noticing my plate.
Despite my resolution to eat better, I still haven’t done it. Today’s lunch is a plate of waffle fries, a dish of chocolate ice cream, and a soda.
“Everyone likes fries.” I reach across the table for the ketchup. “And why are you picking on me? You have a pile of fries, too.”
“Yeah, but I also have a chicken sandwich.”
“So what questions do you have?” I ask as I tap the ketchup bottle on my plate.
Carson quizzes me about some of the professors and what to expect in terms of homework and tests. Then we talk briefly about the social scene and I explain how everyone goes to parties off campus on Friday and Saturday nights and how it’s a social sin to have a party in your dorm room.
“Do you know if there are any trails around here?” he asks. “I like to run, but I don’t like running on a track.”
“Same here. But I don’t feel safe on the trails by myself, especially at night, so I usually end up on the track. Anyway, to answer your question, there’s a trail that starts in the woods behind the science building.”
“How far do you run?”
“Nine or 10 miles. Sometimes less if I’m in a hurry.”
“I usually go 8 or 9. We should run together sometime.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Guilt is creeping into my conscience again. What am I doing with this guy? First lunch. Now plans to go running? I haven’t even mentioned Garret’s name yet. I didn’t even tell Carson I had a boyfriend. No wonder he keeps asking me to do stuff with him. Just as I’m about to bring up Garret, Carson starts talking again.
“So what’s your major?”
“I don’t have one. I’m undecided. What’s yours?”
“Biology. I’m planning to go to med school.”
