Read Waiting on Forever Online

Authors: Ashley Wilcox

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Young Adult

Waiting on Forever (2 page)

From Matt:

Our house is having a kegger tonight–you guys should stop in!

I pause before I respond. There’s a reason why Matt and I have never hung out together, and that’s because we come from two different sides of the social ladder. Where Matt is Mr. Popular football player, I’m the artsy nerd who would be stared and pointed at walking into a jock house party. I can picture it now-the music stopping and all eyes on me as I arrive. I think it would be almost the equivalent of a police officer showing up. Definitely not someone people want at their party. For some reason Matt doesn’t seem to realize this and keeps inviting me out...or maybe he’s just being a nice guy. Either way, I respond like I always do.

From Leah:

Maybe next time :) Have fun, though!

From Matt:

Thanks :) Have a good night, Leah.

From Leah:

You too!

And that’s it. That’s the extent of our friendship. I'd be lying if I said that I don't get a rush of butterflies every time I see a message waiting from him, or every time he smiles and says hi when I see him on campus. He's a good looking guy. Let's be honest, he's freaking hot as hell and a nice guy as well. How can I not be a little attracted to him? I can't.

It's also the same reason why I'd never let our relationship be different than it is now. I would like to think that Matt is a sweet guy who goes to sleep alone like me every night, but I know it must be far from the truth. He's an incredibly hot college guy who every girl on campus swoons over. On top of that, he lives in the football house–a revolving door of easy girls like Kayla. I'm sure that as soon as he exits out of his screen from our conversation the party starts and he's just like any other football player, ready to get drunk and get laid.

Shaking my head to clear the image of Matt hooking up with some sleazy girl from my mind, I close down my computer and pull my psychology book from my bag. The nice thing about being one of the only people without a life on a Friday night is that the dorms are peacefully quiet so it is the best time to get some solid studying done. Although my heart belongs in photography, being a freshman means my schedule consists of mostly general elective courses that are required to graduate. Unfortunately, it means I only have one photography course this semester. I’ve been told by some upperclassmen that it’s pretty much going to be my schedule until my junior year when I actually get more involved in my major. Until then, I’m stuck with taking these useless courses.

Feeling my eyes starting to get heavy, I close my books and snuggle under my sheets to drift off into a nice peaceful sleep.

Chapter 2

Today is unusually cold for a fall day, even for upstate New York. It doesn’t help that the campus is at the top of a hill and feels ten degrees colder when you get in the center where all the buildings are. Being from White Plains, New York, which is downstate and only a short ride from New York City, I’m not used to frigid temperatures this early in the fall. It feels more like winter temperatures to me.

“Oh, come on. It’s not that cold,” a familiar voice startles me as I step out of my dorm building, zip up my jacket, and pull my hat over my head.

Shocked to see him outside my door and on this part of campus, I’m speechless as I look up at him.

“I figured we could walk to class together today,” Matt smiles.

“But we don’t have class together?” I ask, confused. We don’t have any classes together, and I’m lucky if I even pass him during the day.

“You have French 102 with Professor Adams, right?”

“Yeah,” I answer, nodding my head.

“Yeah, they switched me from 101 to 102. Apparently I’m advanced in the foreign language department,” he says with a wink. “We actually have a class together now.”

“Wow, that’s awesome. Be prepared–Professor Adams is a tough ass and she’s not keen on tardiness, so we better get going,” I respond, trying to ignore the nervous butterflies flapping in my stomach, and my heart that’s ready to jump out of my chest at any moment. It’s been a while since I’ve been in this close of proximity to Matt, and apparently my body is reacting just the same as it did all through orientation; a swoontastic mess. I’ll be damned if I’ll let it be noticed, though! I start walking towards campus like I would any other day, even though the only guy that has ever made my heart skip a beat is walking next to me.

Finding my seat in the back of the classroom, Matt takes the desk next to mine. Although that’s where Margo normally sits, my French class friend, I’m okay with Matt sitting there instead. It’s not going to be easy to focus in class, knowing he’s sitting next to me the whole time. But having an hour with Matt three days a week-I’ll take it. I’ll even take a failing grade if I have to. What I didn’t expect, even though I should have, is every girl turning and shooting him a smile when they notice the new student in class; the
hot
new student in class. I roll my eyes, annoyed with how pathetic girls can be, as they giggle and wink at him. However, Matt proves to be the non-arrogant guy that he is and just politely smiles before disregarding them and taking out his notebook and pen.

I inwardly smile at how he brushes it off instead of eating it up.

Just as the clock strikes nine, Professor Adams walks in.

“Bonjour!” she greets us as she places her things on her desk. “S'il vous plaît transmettre avance affectation de vendredi alors que je passe autour de la feuille d'inscription.”

I laugh to myself when I see Matt’s face drop, completely lost with what Professor Adams just said.

“Did you understand any of that?” he whispers to me.

“She said to pass Friday’s assignment up front while she passes the sign in sheet around,” I respond with a grin.

“Am I supposed to understand this? Because I don’t,” he says with a frightened look.

“We pretty much don’t use any English in this class.”

“Well, damn. This should be fun,” Matt says sarcastically.

Coming up next to him, Professor Adams smiles. “Bonjour, vous devez être monsieur Matthew Jacobs?”

“Oui?” he responds as more of a question.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Jacobs. You will find we speak mostly French in this class, so if you have any questions please let me know. I’m sure Ms. Bennett can loan you her notes from the last few classes, and please purchase the textbook before next class,” she smiles, and I can visibly see Matt’s body relax as he listens to her speak in English.

I smile and nod my head to her, agreeing that I’ll loan him my notes before she turns and heads back towards the front of the room.

Letting out a deep breath, Matt whispers, “Holy shit, man. They were impressed in 101 that I could say my ABCs, introduce myself, and count to fifty in French. 102 doesn’t fuck around.”

“Not feeling so advanced in the foreign language department anymore, huh?” I joke.

“Yeah, I’d like to retract that statement. I hope you understand this crap because it looks like I’m going to need some extra help in this class.”

Since my school district at home requires you to start a language in eighth grade, I’m no stranger to the French language. But even if it wasn’t practically my second language, I’d learn it overnight if it meant being able to tutor Matthew Jacobs.

“Oh great, are you going to be my puppy dog in this class now?” I sarcastically respond, even though I’m crossing my fingers and toes that he says yes.

“I swear I won’t piss on your leg as long as you help me pass this class,” Matt says with a pleading grin.

“Well, I think I’d be attacked by every person on campus if I was partially responsible for the star wide receiver not being eligible to play because of failing this class.”

“Thank you! Thank you, Leah!” he responds, grabbing my hands and praising me. Giving him a forced, but accepting, smile, I stare at his hands holding mine and hoping that he never lets go. Even though my stomach is in knots, my body is surging with an unbelievable warmth that is being passed from his hands to mine.

What the hell? I’m turning into one of those annoying girls!

Giving me another appreciative smile, he drops my hands and turns forward to focus on the lesson that’s being given up front. Swallowing hard, I slowly turn forward and try to focus on what is being taught. However, my body is still frozen, maybe even numb from the direct contact between Matt and I, and I can’t even tell you what Professor Adams is saying or what topic we’re on.

Within less than an hour, Matt and I have gone from being online friends, to having class together three times a week, to now being study partners. My head is in overdrive and my heart is close to exploding, but I need to get a hold of myself. I can’t let Matt know how he makes me feel inside. Matt and I can never be a couple and our relationship can never be more than friends. He’s a popular jock that goes for popular girls and he is
totally
out of my league. So, if friends is all we can be, then I’ll be the best damn friend he’ll ever have. Taking a deep breath, and pointing my eyes up front, I open my notebook, and start taking down every added piece of information I will need to make not only myself pass this class with flying colors, but Matt as well.

“So what class do ya have now?” Matt asks as we exit French.

“Anthropology,” I respond with a less than enthused smirk.

“With Professor Buzz?”

“Yeah, why? Do you have him, too?” I ask.

“Dude, that guys a trip! I’ve got him after this class,” he laughs.

“I’m pretty sure he has some internal issues going on. Anyone that jumps from desk to desk, and acts like a gorilla has a few screws loose.”

“Are you crazy? The man’s awesome,” Matt jokes a little too excitedly.

“You
would
think that,” I respond sarcastically. “Well, it’s been fun, but this is my stop.” I nod my head towards the social studies building next to us.

“Oh, yeah,” Matt says looking up at the building. “It’s cool being able to actually see ya during the day now.” He smiles, looking down at me and making my cheeks warm with what I’m sure is a few shades of pink.

And here’s that awkward moment when you know you have to get going, but don’t want to leave because leaving means walking away and walking away means not seeing him for almost two days. Before today I was used to hardly seeing him, but being in his presence again, and actually spending over an hour together, I’m addicted and don’t want our time together to end. The fact that he’s not leaving and just standing here, looking down at me and smiling, makes me wonder if he feels the same way too?

Seconds later...

“There you are! Ready for calculus?”

And here’s reality! Barbie. The perfect blonde haired, blue eyed girl, standing next to Matt, her arm now looped with his. The type of girl Matt goes for–not me.

“Oh, hey. Hi, Brynn,” Matt awkwardly greets her. “Brynn, this is Leah and Leah this is…um, Brynn.”

He has a girlfriend?
Of course he has a girlfriend. Why wouldn’t he? He’s hot, nice, athletic...and perfect.

I smile, extending my hand. “Nice to meet you, um, Brynn.”

“Huh?” she responds, shaking my hand with a confused look.

Oh, geez! Her brain’s the size of Barbie’s, too.

“Never mind,” Matt chimes in, rolling his eyes and resting his hand on the bottom of her back. “See ya Wednesday, Leah.” He pushes Brynn along towards the math building.

Well, that was a nice smack in the face. It’s my own fault, though. I don’t know why I’ve gone all this time thinking he was single. Even if he was, it should mean nothing to me. Matt and I don’t mix in the same dating pool and we never will.

Chapter 3

All day I’ve been sulking, and a depressing mess. I should be on cloud nine that Matt and I now have a class together and that I’ll get to see him three times a week, but ever since I met bleached out Brynn I can’t shake this awful mood I’m in. Yeah, it was a friendly reminder of where I stand in the dating pool, but I just don’t get it. Matt seems like a smart guy and no matter how hot a girl, doesn’t it get old talking to a wall every day? I’d think so. Although, I guess some guys just want a designated booty call that they can call their own.

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