AndyMy throat bobs on a swallow as I watch Ava walk down the stairs of her sorority.
She’s wearing a black little dress, and her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, soft tendrils falling softly around her face.
“Shit, Ava, you’re stunning.”
Her cheeks pinken and she gives me a small smile, which deflates when a few of the other girls walk into the foyer to gawk at us.
“Oh, my God,” Lola says with a big fake smile plastered on her face. “Are you two going on a date?”
“We’re just having dinner,” Ava says, playing it off, like it doesn’t mean anything.
It does.
It means everything.
Because the more I spend time with this girl, the more I know I want her to be mine. Even if I don’t deserve her.
Which I don’t.
Seeing her like this, she looks like she should be on the arm of a senator, or at least someone who does more for a living than toss an old pigskin around. But tonight I’m going to do my best to make her think that I’m worth more just a good screw.
Sure, I may not be boyfriend material, but for her, I want to be.
“Ready?” I ask, holding my arm for her.
I hear a few sighs from the women, and one little grunt which I assume is from Lola. But all I focus on is the gorgeous woman on my arm who looks up at me with a mixture of uncertainty and affection.
I see it. Even if she doesn’t want to admit it. She likes me.
It gives me a small push of confidence as I lead her out of the house toward my car. I notice the way her eyes look over my beat-up Honda Civic.
“I know it’s not much.”
“It’s fine. I don’t even have a car, actually I don’t even have a driver’s license.”
“Really?”
“I grew up in D.C. and used public transportation every day. So, I think your car is perfect, Andy.”
I open the door and she slides in. Getting in the driver’s seat, I turn on the ignition. “I’m proud of it. I paid for it in cash after working at a golf-course an entire summer. I remember getting up at the crack of dawn collecting balls from sand traps, then heading to practice for the rest of the day.”
She catches my eye as she buckles her seat belt.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing. I just...” She shrugs. “You have a good work ethic, which my mom always said that was important in a man.”
“I’ll have to tell my mom. She raised me on her own, and always made a big deal about her sons doing their best,” I tell Ava as I drive off campus and toward the city center. Oak trees line the road and orange and yellow leaves litter the sidewalks.
“My mom was a single mom too. It’s was just the two of us.”
“Really? Well, I have four younger siblings. So, I’m guessing my house was a lot noisier than yours.”
She smiles warmly and rests her hands in her lap. I can’t help but look down at her, her long legs tempting me as I change gears.
When we get to Chez Francais, I hand the keys over to the valet. “Pretty fancy place, Andy,” she says as we get out of the car.
“Only the best for my dates.” I chose this place thinking someone as classy and smart as Ava wouldn’t like the typical joints on the main drag of town. I can’t picture a girl like her eating a milkshake and fries.
Ava and I enter the restaurant and I’m very aware of the fact that every guy in the place is checking her out.
She leans over to me. “Everyone in this place is staring at you,” she whispers as we are led to our table.
Sitting down, I chuckle. “Staring at me? It’s you they’re checking out.”
“Yeah, right. Andy, half the pundits in the country predict you’ll be the number one draft pick.”
I lift an eyebrow, surprised. I can’t really imagine her looking up stats on ESPN. Not wanting it to be about me, I tease her, “Damn, I love it when you talk all sporty.”
Ava blushes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Honestly though, Andy, you know it’s true. Are you excited about the possibilities? For your future? Your family must be so proud.”
Her words cause me to stiffen. No one asks me questions like this, personal ones. Ones that matter. Usually, it’s all about the money, what I’m gonna do with a signing bonus and how famous I’ll be. Nothing that I care about.
“Yeah, uh, actually, it’s kinda weird, it’s not--”
I’m cut off by a waiter who hands us a wine list and begins to rattle off the night’s specials in words I can hardly catch.
When he pauses, presumably waiting for our drink order, I catch Ava’s eyes. They are wide and it’s clear she’s a bit overwhelmed.