She smiles. I smile too.
“What’s your name?” I ask her, because fuck it. If I can flirt with a girl at the Range Rover dealership to pass the time, I may as well go all in.
“Hayden.” She tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. I’m a sucker for a blonde. Always have been. “What’s yours?”
“Tony.” I offer up a closed-lipped smile.
She does the same.
“Well, Tony, are you in college?”
I nod. Squirm in my seat a little. This girl will lose interest when she finds out where I go. She probably attends Stanford. Or Berkeley. She’s probably smart as hell and a complete overachiever. “Yeah. You?”
A little laugh escapes her, and it’s a sweet, tinkling sound. “Yes. Where do you go?”
May as well be upfront. Again, this is all happening at a dealership in a city I don’t live in. I’ve got nothing to lose. “Fresno State.”
Her mouth pops open. “No way,” she breathes, sitting up straighter, her hand going to her chest. “I do too!”
“You do not.” I chuckle, shaking my head. She has to be playing me.
“I so do! They have a great liberal arts program. I want to be a teacher, much to my father’s dismay.” She laughs again, a little louder this time, but I see the hurt that flashes in her eyes.
She hates that her father is disappointed in her future career choice. I feel this. I really do.
“What about you? Why are you going to Fresno State?” she asks.
“I grew up near there.” I shrug. “A lot of my friends chose Fresno State, so I did too.” Not the greatest answer, but it’s the truth.
I knew I wanted to go to college, but I never really wanted to go somewhere far, and I had no idea what I wanted to major in. I finally found my core group of friends in high school, so why would I want to leave that? Completely immature thought process, but fuck it. I like my comfort, and currently, I find comfort in my friends.
Family dumps you. Girls do too. Friends don’t. Bros stick by you no matter what.
Thankfully, a few of my friends got into Fresno State, like I did. And I’ve made new friends too.
“What’s your major?” Hayden asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Business.” It was the most neutral major that appealed to me, and what do you know, it made my father happy when he found out. Not that I particularly want to, but eventually, I’m sure I’ll be working alongside my father, cutting ruthless business deals and buying up real estate all over the Bay Area.
That’s why I need to focus on having fun in college now, because all the fun is going to evaporate from my life in approximately four years. You’re only in college once. I need to make the best of it.
“Do you know what you want to be when you grow up?” Her eyes are dancing when she asks the question, and I like how direct she is. How confident she seems.
This girl seems like she has her shit together. No “poor little rich girl” vibes coming from her.
“Not sure yet,” I say with another shrug, slouching in my chair. Trying for nonchalance. Like it’s no big deal that I’m having a conversation with the hottest girl I’ve met in a long ass time.
“Are you from around here then? No, wait, you said you grew up near Fresno.” She frowns. “They have a small Range Rover dealer there. Why are you here?”
“Their service department is booked out for weeks, and I didn’t want to wait any longer on the tinted windows.” Dad bought me the Range Rover as a belated graduation gift, bestowing it upon me right before I started college. Considering the gorgeous and very expensive vehicle ends up sitting in a parking lot most of the time, baking under the hot sun, I quickly decided I needed all the windows tinted to help keep the inside cool.
“Ah, that makes sense. And while it’s here, may as well get the recall work done, right?” I nod. She smiles. “I’m visiting my dad for the weekend. He wanted family time, as he calls it. His girlfriend is only seven years older than I am.”
Hayden rolls her eyes and I can’t help but laugh.
“My stepmom is thirty,” I tell her with a chuckle.
“I don’t understand why they always trade in for a newer model,” she says. “Though my mom eventually did the same thing.”
“My mom swears she’ll never get married again. Says my father turned her against love,” I say, hating the flash of sympathy I see reflected in Hayden’s gaze.
Maybe I said too much.
“Love is for pussies,” she says with confidence. An older woman sitting nearby shoots her a dirty look and the smile teasing the corners of Hayden’s mouth makes me smile in return. She probably enjoyed shocking that old lady. “It’s true and you know it.”
“It is true.” My ex-girlfriend Sophie stomped all over my heart and left it a bleeding mess right before she left our high school for good and went to a performing arts school up in the mountains near San Diego. Last I heard, she was in the dance program at USC, where my best friend Jake goes. He actually ran into her recently and called to tell me all about it.
Made me feel like shit, but I had to pretend his seeing Sophie didn’t bother me. It sucks when you realize people always eventually leave you. Hell, in a way Jake did too, though of course he left to go play football for USC, and I don’t blame him. We got a lot closer senior year and now he’s gone. I’ve learned a lesson from all of this, one I’ll never forget.
Everyone leaves.
“So you’re spending your Saturday here at the dealer, huh?” she asks.
It’s a bye week at home, so no football game tonight. Not like I’d get a chance to play anyway. I rarely do. “Yeah. Hasn’t been too bad though.”
She grins. I grin back.
“What are you doing afterwards?”
My smile fades. “I have a get-together thing my dad wants me to attend tonight.”
That is the last thing I want to do. Especially now, when I have a much more interesting prospect sitting in front of me.
Her smile disappears too, replaced with a frown. “Yeah, you know, I have something too.”
This hot girl was going to ask me out. I could feel it. And that gives me the confidence to ask, “Can I get your number? Maybe we can get together sometime in Fresno.”
Can’t believe I never noticed her on campus before, though I guess it’s not a surprise. It’s a huge campus. We all sort of seem to take the same general ed classes at the same time, though, but maybe her schedule is totally different because of her major.
“Sounds good.” She lifts her phone and starts tapping. “Why don’t you give me your number first.”
I rattle it off and she types it in her phone, my phone buzzing immediately with her simple response of hi. “I’ll text you for real early next week.”
I smile. “I’ll hold you to it.”
“Oh I will.” Her eyes are sparkling.
I could stare at her all damn day.
We make small talk for a few minutes more, until one of the service advisers enters the waiting room and approaches her, letting her know her car is ready. She rises to her feet, slinging her Chanel bag over her shoulder, and she stops by my chair. The service adviser waits for her nearby, his impatience obvious.