Authors: Daisy Prescott
Tags: #We Were Here
Jo Asotin, 19
Legal and Public Admin
Sophomore
Have you ever been in love?
If you asked me in high school, I would have said yes. Without a doubt.
Now I don’t know.
I had terrible taste in guys.
I wasn’t one of those girls who liked bad boys or weirdos. No, I liked the normal guys. Great on paper. Nice to my parents. Then turned into jerks. Those kinds of guys.
My high school boyfriend had been beloved by my parents. Football player, track all-star, church youth group leader, lived in the right neighborhood, and had professional, white collar type parents. Everything they wanted in a boyfriend for me.
Also, one of the most boring humans on the planet.
No ambition. No drive to be more or do more with his life. He’d be happy to buy a house in the same neighborhood and send his kids to the same schools we went to.
Back then, I didn’t know any better. He fit with every stereotype I’d been taught to want.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that thinking.
Unless you wanted more.
I wanted more.
Did I love him? In a way, I guessed I did.
Before I knew what love—real love—felt like.
Love was a river that swept me away, pulling me under and tossing me around rapids and rocks. Slowing down in quiet spots of peace before rushing on again, taking me with it. I resisted and clung to the safety of the bank. Worked against the current as hard as I could, thinking I could outpace it.
I was a fool.
The river changed how I saw the world. It’s brought me to places I never imagined. Showed me what really could be possible when I gave in and allowed it to support me, carry me.
I thought I knew what love was before. I didn’t know anything.
“Why” ~ Annie Lennox
I RETURNED FROM
winter break to find an envelope with my name on it pinned to my bulletin board. After recognizing the scrawling handwriting as Ben’s from statistics, I tossed it in the trash.
“Some guy named Ben left you a message on the answering machine. I saved it for you.” My sophomore roommate Jenni meant to be nice, but she was clueless.
“Is his the only message on the machine?”
“Should be.”
The machine displayed a steady “1” which meant all the messages had been heard.
I hit “delete all” and listened while the tape rewound itself.
She gasped. “You’re not even going to listen to it? He sounded really cute and nice. He asked if you’d call him back because he owes you a dinner in Seattle. He even said please.”
I cut her off. “Not interested in hearing what he had to say. If I were, I would’ve played the message.”
“Oh, wow. You’re totally serious.” She blinked her big brown eyes at me. Not the smartest doll in the house.
“I am. In fact, if he calls again, and you pick up, can you tell him to save his energy for someone who cares?
“That’s really mean, Jo. What did he ever do to make you hate him?”
I couldn’t tell her the truth. Or about the judicial hearing I had to sit through after his RA caught him with a giant bong in his room.
“Nothing. He’s not a bad guy.”
“Is he single?” Her brows lifted in excitement. “He sounded super cute on the message. Where’s he from? What’s his major? Is he tall? His voice sounded tall.”
“How does a voice sound tall? Height has no correlation to vocal chords.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I guess he’s cute. Not super tall, but above average.” I kept my tone disinterested.
Cute? Understatement of the decade. Benton Grant wasn’t cute—puppies and kittens and baby tigers were cute. Ben was handsome. Classic handsome with a straight nose and strong jaw. A drawing of Ben illustrated the dictionary entry for “good breeding.”
Cocky as hell, too, but he had the looks to back up the attitude. And rich. Which meant he’d also been spoiled, arrogant, and entitled.
No way would I tell Jenni any of that. If I had, she would have sat by the phone waiting for him to call back.
Jenni dating Ben would’ve been a very bad idea. She was nice enough and pretty, if he liked big hair and big boobs.
No, there was one reason and one reason only it would’ve been the worst idea ever. Against my better sense, and my vow only to fall in love with the perfect man, I had fallen in love with him.
Ridiculously, stupidly in love.
My grandmother in Spokane always told me it was as easy to fall in love with a rich man as it was to fall in love with a poor one.
She left out the part about being rich didn’t equal perfect.
Ben was far from perfect.
He was too busy rebelling and flipping the bird at some perceived authority oppressing him. An angry white boy who didn’t want to take responsibility for his own actions.
He was a spoiled child.
He was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.
The worst part? I saw glimpses of the amazing version of himself he tamped down with pot and bravado.
That man had my heart.
And he didn’t even realize it.
“Think of You” ~ Guns N’ Roses
THE ONE GOOD
thing to come out of knowing Ben had been meeting his friends. After going to Gil’s gig, we’d met up for other parties and shows, and spent hours hanging out in each other’s rooms. I felt closest to Maggie and Lizzy. Selah, less so. Knowing she and Ben had hooked up made things awkward for me.
Because I was jealous.
Not of her specifically. She didn’t seem his type. At all. Too much of a man-eater. Although, I could see the appeal. She wasn’t the kind of girl he could introduce to his parents. She fit perfectly in his whole rebellion phase.
No, I felt jealous because she knew what it was like to kiss him. I’d spent so much time wondering what it would be like to kiss him it was embarrassing. Or would be if anyone knew.
Maggie, Lizzy, and I strolled across the red square at the heart of campus in the middle of a rare sunny January day.
Up ahead I spied Jenni walking in our direction. I waved at her.
“Maggie!” a guy yelled from the other side of the quad, near the library. I froze.
Maggie stopped and waved behind me. From the corner of my eye I spied Ben jogging toward us. From the opposite direction, Jenni made a beeline for our group.
Wonderful. I stepped away, hesitating while I thought up an excuse. “I forgot something in the library.”
I paused too long.
Ben stepped next to me, slightly out of breath. “Hey. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for weeks.”
I shrugged.
“Hi, I’m Jenni. With an ‘i.’” She stuck out her hand to him. “I don’t believe we’ve met, but we’ve spoken on the phone.”
He gave her a perplexed look.
“I’m Jo’s roommate.”
“Oh, right.” His grin caused her to sigh. “I appreciate you taking all my messages for Jo.”
“You must be Ben.” She grinned back at him, showing all her teeth like a shark. “Jo didn’t tell me how cute you were.”
If I were standing closer to her, instead of backing away from the group for the safety of the library, I would’ve elbowed her into next week.
Ben looked at me expectantly. I took another step away from him.
“Sorry I haven’t called you back. I, um, I’ve been busy with . . .” I exhaled a long breath. “You know, classes and stuff. Beginning of the quarter is madness.” My sentence ended with a high-pitched, awkward laugh.