Brady sits me down at the top of the hill, keeping us hidden by the trees and buildings. “This is my favorite spot on campus. I have been coming here since I was a kid.” I look around and see Shubert Hall, the music building, behind us.

“It’s a nice spot,” I say. You can watch students making their way to classes below, but no one really notices this secluded area.

“I was up here about three weeks ago. It was one of our last hot days and I was just about to pack up and leave,” he starts talking. He looks over at me and I see something in Brady’s eyes I have never seen, insecurity. “I saw this blonde-haired girl walking down the path.” He points to the open field below us where the streams of students now walk. “Her head was down as she walked down the path, as though she didn’t want to be noticed. There was something about her, something I couldn’t explain. All of a sudden, I felt this pull inside of me. A sudden urge to run down the hill, throw her over my shoulder, and run away.” He opens his backpack, searching for something.

“Before I could get down the sidewalk to make our paths cross, she had disappeared. I lost sight of her. I assume she must have snuck into a building.” He continues to look in his bag and I wonder why he is telling me this story of some girl he is obviously infatuated with. “I came back to this spot every day at that exact time, but I never saw her again. All I had to remember what she looked like was this.” He pulls out a sketchbook and there’s a drawing of a girl with her long hair flowing along the side of her face. Her face is turned down toward the ground, staring at her feet. The girl appears sad and lost in the drawing and a pang hits my stomach; this is how people see me. How could Brady want to be with someone so absent and disoriented?

“It’s beautiful, Brady,” I say, admiring his sketch of me. He was able to portray exactly what I feel every day in only a glimpse of me walking across a field of grass. What can’t Brady Carsen do?

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers in my ear, leaning over me to stare at the sketch. My heart races and chills cover my body. Oh I want him, how did he do this to me? He made me go from hating him to wanting to jump him in a matter of fifteen minutes.

“And then I saw you that night at Billy’s which, by the way, that’s the name of the house you first met me at. It is a house that they gutted to have parties and bands play. We usually don’t play there, but we were filling in for another band that cancelled last minute. When you walked in with Jessa, I have never been more thankful for anything in my life. You appeared so shy and intimidated standing against the back wall. I didn’t have the nerve to go up to you for fear you would turn me away. I was frozen, watching you from across the room. When you waved goodbye to Jessa, I couldn't let you out of my sight again.”

“So you knew I wasn’t drunk?” I ask him and he grins.

“Yeah, I knew you were sober. I didn’t knock you down though. That was just luck on my part,” he chuckles. “Then you were there by my side, and I had to go up on stage to play. There has never been a time that I didn’t want to perform more than that night. I told the guys we were going to cut it short. When I finished the second song, I saw you had left and it was all I could do to finish the set. I was so pissed at myself for allowing you out of my sight again.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I ask him.

“I need you to trust me.” He grabs my hand, placing it in his lap. “I can’t tell you where I was Friday night, at least not yet. But believe me Sadie, I wasn’t with anyone else. You’re the only girl who consumes my thoughts, my dreams, and my mind. Please trust me when I say there is no one else,” his voice is desperate, saturating his soft brown eyes.

A big part of me believes him. My thoughts go to Jessa and how she now trusts guys again after what her ex-boyfriend did to her. I need to move on with my life; it’s been over a year and I still harbor all of the hurt and remorse. If I don’t start living my life, it is going to pass me by. Brady’s right, I never gave him a fair shot.

“I believe you,” I whisper, still unsure of my decision to give this a chance.

“Thank you, Sadie.” He releases the deepest breath in relief. “Now I have one more favor.” He peers over at me, continuing to hold my hand.

“What, Carsen?”

“Go on a date with me. A real date, just you and me from beginning to end,” he asks, squeezing my hand.

I close my eyes, willing myself to allow me to have this. Give myself the possibility to have happiness and accept the consequences. “Yes,” I answer him.

He picks up my hand and spreads it open, kissing my palm to his lips, and I wish he would continue that kiss up my arm.

“I’ll pick you up tonight at six,” he instructs.

“Tonight? It’s Monday,” I counter.

“I’m not waiting a whole week, Sadie.” He shakes his head and releases my hand, placing the sketchbook back in his bag.

“Alright,” I agree.

“Let’s go, I’ll walk you back to the dorm.” He holds his hand out to help me up and then keeps it firmly in his for the entire walk.

“I have a question.” I look over to him.

“What?”

“How did you know where I lived?”

“Hey, I’ve got to keep some secrets to myself.” He smirks over to me, squeezing my hand again.

“You aren’t some stalker guy who is going to murder me tonight, are you?” I question seriously.

“I promise you, I’m not a stalker and I’m not going to murder you. Kidnap maybe, but not murder,” he laughs.

As we get closer to the dorms, there are more students around. A group of girls relax out in front of the dorm when Brady and I walk up. They are talking about some boy band and who is hotter, but they fall quiet when they see us. I see the question in their eyes. The same question I saw in people’s eyes at the bar last week. Except this time, it is why I’m with him instead of the other way around. The girls resemble my friends from only a few short months ago. Shallow and vain. Although they probably are drooling over Brady, they would never date him. Most likely, they believe his car isn’t expensive enough and his clothes aren’t designer enough.

Brady walks me up to the door and I notice his car in the parking lot.

“Why is your car here?” I ask him.

“Oh,” he looks back and laughs. “I swear I’m not a stalker, but you wouldn’t answer my calls or texts.” He holds up both his hands in defense. “I’ve been chasing you around this whole campus all day. I kept missing you.”

“I’m glad you found me,” I divulge.

“Me too. Don’t ever hide from me again,” he demands.

“Looks like you got a ticket.” I point to the yellow envelope on his windshield.

“Oh, I can take care of that.” He waves it off like it doesn’t matter.

“See you tonight, Brady.” I get my keys out of my bag.

“Sadie?”

“Yeah,” I answer and turn around. When I shift my head in his direction, he is so close, my heart skips a beat. “I just want to warn you. I’m going to kiss you tonight,” he whispers in my ear and then turns around and walks toward his car.

Chapter 7

When I open my dorm door after taking a shower, I find a bouquet of different colored daisies on my dresser. Jessa smiles over at me through the ladder of my bed, studying my reaction.

“When did these come?” I ask.

“While you were in the shower. The florist delivered them.” She’s beaming more than me.

I grab the note from the bouquet and my name is scripted in guy’s handwriting.

You deserve something beautiful, but they aren’t nearly as beautiful as you. I’m anxiously counting the seconds until you open the door and I see your gorgeous face. See you at six. – B