Page 11 of Facing the Line
“Girl, we’re going to slay this year.”
Kendall is right. My first week of college has gone pretty well, all things considered. I have a great roommate. It’s fun to see my brother more often. I solved the mystery behind Mystery Guy. Sure, that turned out to be a dead end, but Harrison is full of amazing guys. I won’t give Jonas a second thought.
Chapter
Three
October 2022
HADLEY
Hunter: I know hockey has kept me busy lately but let me know if you need anything.
Hadley: Thanks, bro. I’ll see you at your next home game, if not before.
For the next two months, I see Jonas everywhere. At pre-season hockey games—which makes sense. But why are my eyes drawn to his form on the ice? At Hunter’s apartment—which also makes sense. He lives there. But every time we laugh at the same part of a movie or get each other’s jokes, I have to redouble myefforts to remind myself he’s a jock. He will lie, cheat, and let me down.
Plus, Hunter would murder him and go to prison. It would be unfortunate, because I kind of like my older brother. He’s way too overprotective, but he’s basically the reason I came to Harrison.
Hunter and I did not grow up exactly close, but he’s all I’ve got. My mom married his hockey star dad when he was two and nine months later, I joined the family. But they divorced by the time I was six. My mom bounced from one hockey player to the next—she has a type—but I would spend the summers with my dad and Hunter. My dad ignores everything that doesn’t involve hockey (including me), but Hunter enjoyed my company. Dad paid for us to attend the same swanky private high school in Boston together, so we hung out a little when he was a senior and I was a freshman.
When it came time to visit colleges, I was drawn to Harrison. I wanted to get out of Massachusetts and I figured I already knew one person there. Plus, my dad is footing the bill. The fact that Lafayette, Indiana is almost a thousand miles from Boston and my mom’s relationship drama doesn’t hurt, either.
So while I like seeing my brother and I know I might run into Jonas at games or their apartment, it doesn’t make sense that I see him in line at Starbucks or in my dining hall. Can’t he read my glares and find a new place to haunt?
The library is the stuff of Belle’s daydreams. Tall, dark shelves line the main floor with rows upon rows of books. No rolling ladders in sight, but dim lamps dot each study table in the center. The upstairs level overlooks the reading room, as it’s called, and has private study cubbies that are quiet. I prefer the downstairs ambiance, though.
But the hair on the back of my neck prickles like I’m being watched. I look up from my Intro to Education text on Bloom’sTaxonomy and gaze straight into Jonas’s piercing brown eyes. Is nothing sacred?
I slam my book shut and glare at him across the large, open reading room. With no respect for my wishes, he stands from his table and saunters over to me.
“Everything okay, Hadley?” He shoves his hands in his pockets and stares at me like he cares about the answer.
“No, everything is not okay.” The words pop out before I can stop them. I have no desire to share my frustrations with Jonas.
But he sits across from me and folds his hands on top of the table. “What’s going on? Can I help?”
The worst part is, I honestly believe he’d help if he could. Why does he have to be so wholesome? With those deep, dark eyes and curls I want to tousle, he’s temptation personified. But he’s not been honest with me, just like Zane.
I growl. “No, you can’t. I’m…” I sigh. “Are you ever conflicted about your future?”
His gaze, trained on me, widens. “All the time. What’s up?”
I don’t know why I tell him. Maybe it’s as simple as the fact that he’s in front of me and he asked.
“I’m not sure about my major.”
Instead of saying something about how freshmen always change their majors—the flippant response I got from my mom before she got distracted and hung up on me—he nods. “There’s a lot of pressure to pick the right one, isn’t there? What are you studying?”
I fiddle with the edges of the book in front of me. “I declared elementary education, but I’m not sure it’s right for me.”
Jonas gives me a small, closed-mouthed smile and his eyes twinkle. “My mom is an elementary school teacher. She’s great at it, but it’s not for everyone. What isn’t right about it?”
“I’m not sure I like kids,” I say, staring at the table. “I mean, I like them, but I’m not sure I want to spend my entire day with a whole class full of them. Does that make sense?”
“Kids are a lot, I get that. I have eight nieces, and they are adorable but so loud when everyone’s together. What drew you to education in the first place?”
If I’m being honest, I hadn’t put much thought into my major. I shrug. “Being an elementary school teacher looks cute and stable, dependable. There might have been a terrible part of me that thought it would be easy and was swayed by the idea of summer break. But now I’m studying it and spending time in a classroom and talking with teachers, and it’s not like I pictured at all.”
