Page 70 of Sweet Girl
Chapter Twenty-three
Kylah
Four Weeks Later
Studying for a chemistry quiz is hands down the most unappealing thing in the world, especially when the only thing I’d rather be doing is Skyping with my boyfriend.
Boyfriend.
Holy shit. I’m Van Gerard’s girlfriend.
It still amazes me when I think about it too much. Which, if I’m honest, is all the darn time. He is on my mind constantly. When I’m awake. When I dream. When I daydream instead of figuring out the calculated atomic weight and number for each element.
Before I began my relationship with Van, school was everything to me. It was my focus twenty-four hours a day. Sienna would constantly harp on me because I never had any “fun” with my friends. But honestly, my friends were the same nerdy, geeky college kids like me. They were my tribe – and even when I did get together with them, we’d usually just discuss schoolwork. And when we got really crazy, we’d eat pizza, drink Red Bull drinks, and delve into the unifying principles of life science. Ooh...the things we could tell you about the life of an academic nerd.
Since I returned to school after the holiday break, I’ve lost interest in all of that. I’ve been somewhat of a hermit. And have suddenly become a huge basketball fan.
Crazy, right? I mean, I attended many of Cade’s games when he was in high school, and my dad would take me to his college home games, too. But I never cared too much about the actual sport and tuned out my brother half the time when he’d go on and on about a particular team, or game, or his stats.
My interest is insatiable now, and I can’t wait to hear everything about a game from Van. That’s what I’m doing right now; waiting for him to get back to his hotel room so he can Skype with me. Tonight they are in Seattle playing an away game against the Washington State Huskies.
I remember going to Seattle when I was in sixth grade with my family because of Cade’s high school tournaments. We did all the touristy things, like going to the top of the Space Needle (not my idea of a good time. Found out I’m deathly afraid of being in very tall structures when there is a strong possibility of it collapsing in an earthquake). We rode the Ducks – one of those land/water vehicles that take tourists through the various landmarks around the city. Kady made fun of me because I actually used the lip-duck-quacker thing they handed out to all of us.
Anyway, a feeling of melancholy has descended upon me because I want to see him so badly it feels like my chest is going to break open. The only thing that has given me a little bit of lift is knowing that in a little over two weeks from now, it’ll be Valentine’s Day. Van doesn’t know it, but I’m going to go home and surprise him. I know the team has a home game over the President’s Day weekend, so he’ll be there. The only one who knows I’m coming to visit is Cade, whom I’ve enlisted to help me pull off my big surprise.
Once Cade cooled down after the New Year’s debacle, we talked things over before I returned to school. His concerns had nothing whatsoever to do with Van as a person. In fact, he thinks Van is one of the most decent guys he knows. It turns out, Cade was just pissed off for being left in the dark. Upset that I didn’t confide in him and tell him the truth upfront. And maybe there was a little mixture of big brotherly protectiveness, too, but he’d never admit to that.
In the end, it all worked out. We went out on a double-date with Ainsley and Cade two days before I returned to school and he’s been very supportive ever since. Apparently, however, he did tell Van in a privatemono e monoconversation that he’d kick his ass for real if he did ever hurt me. Aw, brotherly love.
My thoughts return to the present when my Skype app pops open and I see Van’s gorgeous face appear on my screen. Clicking on the Accept button, I adjust my glasses and lick my lips in anticipation.
“Hey, baby.” He murmurs, looking utterly handsome in his travel suit and his hair still damp. But then, as I get a really good look, I notice something terribly alarming.
Holy moly.
His signature Van-bun...it’s gone. His long hair, which was normally pulled back into a bun, which I started calling his Van-bun, as opposed to man-bun, which I found terribly hilarious of me – has been chopped off. His dark tresses are now cropped shorter on the side with a long sweep over his brow.
Instead of greeting him properly, I let out a screech. “Oh my God, Van. Your hair! What did you do?”
He grins sheepishly, in the sexy way that he does, his fingers coming up to comb through the top, which falls a little out of place. Then he scratches at his chin which is covered with a day’s growth of stubble. Mm. God, I love that. It makes my fingers twitch with jealousy.
“Meh, I was tired of the hassle. The guys always gave me a hard time about it...and I don’t know. Honestly, I was ready for a change. Plus, I didn’t want to be mistaken for one of the hipster Seattle-lumberjacks while I’m in town.”
We both laugh as I watch him undo his tie and remove his jacket, making the camera jump around with his movements. He must be using his phone instead of his laptop.
“Wow...okay. It’s just such a shock You look so different. But you look really good. You’re still the hottest guy I’ve ever known.”
He really is. I don’t know how I ended up getting so lucky. Van is just amazing.
Moving from the hair subject, I redirect the conversation because I’m interested in how the end of the game went from his perspective.
“So how was the game? I saw the score after the first half and you were down by six. Unfortunately, I had to go to my study group and just got back about fifteen minutes ago, so I didn’t see the final. What happened?”
“We won. I made a couple of three-point shots, and Carver really went balls to the walls. He was on fire tonight. A triple-double. I’m not sure what caused it, but he was the MVP of the game, that’s for sure.”
“That’s awesome.” Something in my brain clicks about my knowledge of Carver’s background. “Hey, isn’t Carver from Washington? I think I recall him saying he grew up there. Maybe his family came to see him play or something.”
Van scratches his beard again like it’s itchy. “Yeah, you’re right. He grew up in a suburb of Seattle, I think. Maybe he was playing his heart out because he had family there to see him. I don’t really know, though, because Carver is as tight-lipped about his past as they come. Never talks about his family, or his childhood, or anything.”
