He was. And right now I was extremely aware of his attention.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I said, my tone more peevish than I’d intended.
His lips curved up in a mocking little smirk. “Like what?”
“Like you’re judging me for...this.” I waved a hand toward the magazine.
“I’m not judging. Although, for the record...you yourself just admitted it was ridiculous.”
I cleared my throat and licked my lips as I straightened and turned so I was facing him fully. “Yes, well, ridiculous or not, this is the only way I know how to learn. Not all of us were born knowing how to be…” I waved a hand toward him again. “Sexy.”
His smile widened. “You think I’m sexy, huh?”
Ugh. Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut? “That’s not the point.”
He tilted his head to the side like he was considering me. “No. It’s not. The point is that you don’t need any of this.” He shoved the magazine at me.
“Then, pray tell, what do I need?” I crossed my arms as I said it, my tone as haughty as I could make it. But really...I was kind of dying to know the answer, and I was pretty sure he knew it.
I had this horrible...hope, I guess you could call it, that he would hit me with some crazy Zen wisdom. He had that air about him with his constant calm and his focus on the field.
Okay, fine, I’d never actually watched him play baseball but I could imagine those pretty eyes narrowed, I could perfectly envision his intensity and the way his muscles would flex as he tensed on the mound...
I sat back in my seat and took a deep inhale. Was it getting hot in here or was it just me?
Andrew looked cool as ever.
So...just me then. I resisted the temptation to reach for the magazine and use it as a fan. “Well?” I prompted. “What do I need?”
“Confidence.”
My insides deflated. I didn’t know why I’d thought this guy might have something more useful to tell me than my father or Jax, but that was exactly the kind of thing they’d say. My dad would tell me the boys were just intimidated by me—he’d been saying stupid crap like that since I was in grade school. And Jax would just say I had to act like I was hot. He was all into the fake it ‘til you make it mentality.
Rose would probably say the same.
The only people who wouldn’t feed me that line about how it’s all about how much you love yourself and blah blah blah were the girls. Because they got it. Not all of us were born with the face of a supermodel like Rose. Not all of us could walk through life like we were too cool for school like Jax.
And not all of us could lean back and look all cool and calm and confident all the time like this guy right here. Because some of us cared. Some of us wanted to be liked. We wanted to have someone find us pretty. We wanted people to see us rather than treat us like we were invisible.
Was that so wrong?
I’d gone and worked myself into a self-righteous pissed off state but I hadn’t realized it was so obvious until Andrew gave me that amused little smirk. “Something wrong with my advice?”
I thought about denying it. Ending this conversation once and for all. Tell him I didn’t need his help…
But I did.
Clearly.
“I thought you were going to say something wise and...useful,” I said.
“Like what?” He was laughing at me again.
Wonderful.
“I don’t know,” I huffed. “Something.”
“What if I rephrase?” he asked, his pretty eyes dancing with laughter as he leaned toward me. “If you build it, they will come.”
I let out a choked little laugh. “Of course you’re a Field of Dreams fan.”
He grinned as he shrugged. “I’m a baseball fan. I love all movies about the sport.”
I had questions about that. Lots of questions. I was dying to know more about his taste in movies because my father had raised me to believe that you could tell everything about a person by their taste in films, books, and athletic teams—in that order.
“I like baseball movies, too,” I said. Really, I liked all kinds of movies, sports included. “But after watching all those baseball movies, the best motivational speech you can give is to tell me I need confidence?”
He laughed softly, that low chuckle that I was starting to love to a weird degree. It was a nice laugh. Kind, even when he was laughing at me. This guy might have been hot, and he might have been in demand with every girl in this school, but at heart he was a genuinely nice guy.
I wonder if the popular girls who went to parties with him and drooled over him knew he was nice or if they just saw the six-pack that his thin T-shirts didn’t quite disguise.
“Do you want my help or not?” he asked.
I wanted to say ‘not.’ I mean, even considering asking him to help me any further than he already had just felt pathetic.
But then again...I needed help.
I looked down at the magazine.
I just didn’t know where to find it.
“I’m telling you the truth,” he said. “You just need confidence. You’re a pretty girl, Simone--”
He said a few more words but they got lost in the rush of blood that went to my head and made the world seem to tilt haphazardly.
You’re a pretty girl, Simone.
Even if he was just being nice, I knew without a doubt I’d be hearing his voice in my head saying those five words until the day I died.
“...and you’re smart. But most of all you’re interesting.”
I blinked at
