Page 3 of Fight for Me
Noah had apparently decided to run for his life.
Cypress Valley StateUniversity wasn’t located in a valley, nor did it boast any cypress trees on the grounds, but it was the crown jewel of West Tennessee, regardless. The academic buildings, with their Gothic arches and winding trails of ivy, circled an open quad dotted by centuries-old trees that predated both the college and the little town for which it was named.
In the middle of it all was a soaring bell tower, and the circular area at its base was Lexie’s favorite thinking spot. Normally, she would lean her head back against one of the wrought iron benches and watch the clouds wander overhead, but on the first Friday of her senior year, she found herself standing on one of those benches like it was a life raft, a sea of chaos swirling past her feet.
There were students everywhere—lying on the grass, hanging from the lower limbs of trees, waiting in snaking lines that led to striped tents serving dressed-up cafeteria food on paperplates. The student council had even dug up a balloon artist from who-knows-where, and multicolored tubes now formed dogs, monkeys, flowers and several kinds of hats that bobbed here and there among the crowd.
Go help Jake.The assignment hadn’t seemed that complicated, until Lexie had realized she had very little chance of everfindingJake in this mess, much less helping him with anything. She glanced down at her phone, wishing for the hundredth time that she’d thought to find his number on the staff roster before she’d left the office.
She swept her gaze over the shifting crowd until she found a group of students posing with their arms around each other like a cancan line. Sure enough, a young man with a large camera crouched a few yards in front of them. The back of his crimson T-shirt read “University Photographer.”
Jumping from the bench as if it were on fire, Lexie shouldered her way through the crowd, hoping to get to Jake before he moved again. She dipped through openings wherever she could find them, dodging and weaving until she burst into the pocket of space where the group had been. But when she got there, they were already dispersing, and Jake had disappeared. She raked her hand through her hair in frustration, lifting onto her tiptoes in an effort to see over the crowd.
Finally, she caught another glimpse of Jake’s shirt as he moved away from her. She darted through a line of people waiting for popcorn, apologizing over her shoulder as she went, and finally latched onto his forearm with both hands.
“There you are!” she blurted, relief flooding her chest.
Jake blinked a few times in confusion, a crease forming between his eyebrows as he looked down at her.
“Sorry, that was really random,” Lexie backtracked, still trying to catch her breath. She gave a small wave with one hand whilethe other stayed clamped around his wrist. “Hi, I’m Lexie. We work together. We met Monday, sort of.”
Jake continued to stare without comment, and Lexie felt unease begin to buzz inside her chest. Was it possible she had the wrong person?
“I’m sorry... you’re Jake Tanner, right? Julie sent me to help you,” she said, scrambling to understand why his blank expression hadn’t changed in the full minute she’d been standing beside him.
Another few seconds passed before his eyes finally moved, jumping from her face to the place where her hand gripped his arm as if he might float away. Lexie instantly released him and stepped back to give him space to breathe. Something in his expression changed, and he took a sudden breath before pulling a narrow notepad and a ballpoint pen from the back pocket of his jeans.
“Names and hometowns from left to right,” he said. “If you can get their majors, too, that would be great.”
Lexie took the pad he thrust into her hands, surprised by his abrupt tone.
“Okay, I can do that,” she said, but when she looked up, he was already walking away. She sidestepped a girl with a fluffy white dog and hurried to keep up. Jake moved like a hunter on safari, as if looking for specific details within the crowd. Every few minutes, he would stop and ask a group of students to pose for a photo, and Lexie would rush to collect their details like she’d been told—doing her best to create an awkward sort of team.
“Thanks,” he said at last, turning to her as the final group wandered away. “It’s a lot faster when I don’t have to do that myself.”
“Of course, yeah, no problem,” Lexie stammered, still trying to figure out what she’d done wrong. “Listen,” she said as he turned to leave, “I really like this job, and I’d like us to work welltogether—to be friends, or whatever.” She offered a small smile, but instead of accepting her olive branch, such as it was, Jake simply gave a quick nod.
“See you Monday,” he said, his voice strangely tight, before melting back into the crowd.
Lexie stood with her mouth slightly open, watching him go.
“Well, alright then,” she said to nobody in particular. “Nice meeting you, too.”
“So, let meget this straight,” Conner said, pacing around the small kitchen table where Jake sat with his head in his hands. “You’re working with this girl—thegirl—that you’ve been hung up on since freshman year. Then today, she stumbles out of a crowd, grabs your arm and says, ‘There you are!’ and you said... nothing.”
Jake groaned, rubbing the heels of his hands over his closed eyes. Every second of the horrible encounter was tattooed on his brain in neon ink.
“I froze,” he muttered darkly. He wished he could wipe out the whole day and start over. Introduce himself, shake her hand, smile... say anything except—
“Names and hometowns from left to right,” Conner said, his voice full of disbelief. “Three years pining for this girl, and all you come up with in your big moment is ‘names and hometowns from left to right’?”
Jake dropped his head to the tabletop, letting his forehead smack against it for good measure.
“Did you at least talk to her after that? Maybe ask how her first week went?”
Jake groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut tighter. Every gear in his brain had ground to a halt when Lexie had magicallyappeared beside him, her warm hands on his arm. He’d forgotten how to put words together in the English language, how to move the muscles in his limbs, even why he was standing outside to begin with. And then, afterward, he hadn’t known how to fix what he’d already broken.
He turned his head toward Conner, who was eyeing him with his eyebrows raised.
