How (Not) To Date A Jock

EMILY

The first week had finally come to an end, and she already felt like she was crumbling beneath the weight of it all. The workload? Fine. The physical part? Yeah. Not so great. She’d try to run but…

Failure.

Maybe she should have picked another program that could get her to her goal. Maybe she had overshot it… She could help kids…some other way. Did they not see that having a program with physical requirements…

Might stop people from doing good things?

It wasn’t her fault running required coordination and lung capacity she simply did not have. And her left leg was a little…lazy. Nothing bad. She’d fallen as a child and busted it up pretty good.

A year in a cast.

Everything was good, in working order… That was where her passion for occupational therapy with kids started, but she’d always been a little apprehensive. That meant—no activity involving her legs.

What if she couldn’t make her muscles work decently in time?

No, nope. No spiraling.

So, Emily focused on what worked for her. Getting ahead on her readings.

It was a perfect time since it was Friday night and Tracy was out celebrating like most of the other students.

A ding broke the silence of her room. It was not long until she spotted the email alert in the corner of the screen.

One thing.

Emily did not recognize the sender. Matthew Miller. Who?

She clicked the yellow rectangle, and it opened the email on her screen, the subject line staring at her: tutor.

It could not be.

He did not know her name, she had not even given him any kind of information about herself. Her heart hammered in her chest as she allowed her eyes to roam across the rest of the email.

You’re not an easy girl to find, Emily Moore. Let me know when you’re free :).

This was a joke, it had to be. Also, he had to be a stalker. It was the only logical explanation as to why he was even able to find her. It was not like she had a herd of friends on social media or that she was in a club.

But, despite how startled she was, she could also feel guilt nestling inside of her chest. He had held his end of the bargain that time, and now she was trying to weasel her way out of her side of the deal.

Okay. Yes. She had clearly stated her running away meant nothing but… He did help her out.

Cole had spotted her and—she hadn’t wanted to see him. Matthew’s sudden appearance had gotten her out of a jam. Was she a chicken? Yes, yes she was. A point she had proven when she had kissed Matthew out of the blue.

He helped her—so…she had to help him once at least. She couldn’t flake.

This was not the type of person she was. So, he was a little weird. She would simply make sure that they met up in a public place and it should not be an issue. Plus, it was not like she ever intended to invite him into her room or anything like that.

The library would do just fine. Her fingers were trembling as she began typing up a reply: Tomorrow. Library. 6 p.m. The table by the window—don’t be late.

There.

If he did not show up, it would be on him and then she would be free of any obligation.

Ding.

I’ll be there.

That was quicker than anticipated.

A loud groan escaped her as she let her head hit the keyboard. Did she just set up an appointment with the stranger she randomly kissed?

Oh God.

She was reckless and desperate one time. So many men in this school and she had to kiss the one guy who would also not check his schedule that morning.

Now she couldn’t shake him off.

Great.

***

Emily sat close to the window, her shoulder resting upon the glass. Her fingers were fidgeting with the edge of her yellow book, nervousness spreading through her body.

She allowed her eyes to glance at the screen of her cellphone: 5:59. He was not here yet and part of her was hoping that he would not show up—especially since she was starving.

“Looking for me?”

Her heart was beating in her throat while her hand flew to her chest. What the heck! She barely dared to turn her head, not wanting him to see in what state he had put her.

He sat down beside her, a grin on his face. Then, he pulled a paper bag from behind him, dropping it on the table.

“Hungry?”

“No.” Yes.

“I’m famished,” he answered with a shrug as he plopped down on the chair next to her.

“How did you find me?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You…told me you’d be waiting here?”

Funny guy. “How did you find out my name?”

“Classroom list. You were the only name I didn’t know.”

Oh—she had not thought of that. Fine, maybe he was not that creepy. Could ~one~ person ~really~ know everyone in their class though? ~Yes, Emily, because most people are not anti-social like you~.

“Do you have your book?”

“My book?”

“Yes—to study.”

“I haven’t bought my books yet.”

She sighed; he was not going to make this easy on her, was he?

“We’ll share.” She moved her book to the middle so that both of them would be able to see it. “Is there anything in particular that you struggle with?”

“All of it.”

“Okay, look.” She softly shook her head. “I have a big class load. I don’t have time to waste helping some big jock who doesn’t wanna help himself.”

Deal or no deal, she would not have him waste her time.

Emily had agreed to this because well because she was a dang moron. All he had done at this point was help her slip away. She didn’t have to waste her precious non-existent time tutoring him.

Okay. So… maybe she had a little bit of free time. Social life? Dead. Dating life? Buried. Job? None. ~But he didn’t know~. And she didn’t want to be turned into a fool. ~Fine~, he was an athlete, ~fine~ he didn’t need good grades.

Despite that, he was telling her that he never found a moment to pick up a book. She did not have time for this.

“Who says I’m a jock?”

“You said you were on the track team?” Which was sort of the whole appeal of him. Outside of the pretty boy smile. ~Which~ she would never bring up again. Like ever.

He chuckled, but there was a bitterness to his laugh. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, not a jock. At least not anymore. Can’t be a jock if you can’t run.”

Her eyebrow quirked: could not run? He made it sound like it was permanent. Was it because of his grade? Was he prevented from running? Couldn’t be an injury, could it? He appeared to be walking fine.

Wait. “You said you were on the team?” she repeated.

“I am. Not right now.”

Crap. Emily was obviously inserting herself in a situation she shouldn’t. Maybe he couldn’t run because he had bad grades? How did he get there?

Should she be talking? She had to deal with her own shit and—she wasn’t letting anyone know. It would make sense. She might not graduate based on that stupid physical, and he couldn’t run because his grades were bad.

“Sorry,” he said as he messed up his bangs. “It’s just one of these things.” He cleared his throat. “How ‘bout we get started?”

She forced herself to put a smile on her face; maybe she had judged him a little too harshly without knowing the situation. “Sure.”

He had stalked her a little. Maybe she could do her own little research.

“Then we’ve gotta set your training.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your training,” he repeated, his smile growing in size.

“Oh you know what, it’s fine. We don’t have to do that.”

“Come on, don’t you need this to pass?”

She did—she so did. Desperately so. If she couldn’t do it, she would have to…move back home and wait on tables. If she refused this—this…being possibly her only shot… Then she might be screwed.

It was the second time this virtually-a-stranger held her fate in her hand. Someone up there had a funny sense of humor. How was this fair?

“Fine, I guess,” she replied, giving him a shrug of the shoulders. Whatever.

Yet, he beamed her a smile, as if he’d won. Yeah, okay. Mister skirt-chasers. A chase and nothing else. She’d been burned before. “All right, so we do this now, and then it’ll be your turn. Saturday morning? 6 a.m.?”

“Six a.m.? Are you out of your mind?” She slapped a hand on her mouth. Okay a little too loud for a library. She leaned closer to him, bringing her voice down. “Are you out of your mind?” she repeated.

“You snooze, you lose, Emily.”

Valid point—but she hated it. “Just so you know, I’m very unhappy about this.”

He chuckled. “Sure, party girl.”

That nickname was gonna stick, wasn’t it?

***

“You’re back late.”

Tracy was waiting for her, on her bed, a big smile on her face.

Oh, she was hoping for a story.

Nope, no sorry. Only her. And a guy—she had kissed. Studying. Completely innocent. ~It was~.

“Yeah, sorry.” She tilted her head to the side, hoping to hide the faint blush on her cheeks. “Lost track of time.”

By which she meant that she had embarrassed herself. Once he stopped talking, he let her talk and he never stopped her which meant she went on and on without a pause.

“Doing what?” she asked with a smirk.

“Studying.” If she was more explicit than that about what she did, she would never hear the end of it and Tracy would never let it go. It was best to keep it as it was.

“Where?”

“Library.”

“Uh.”

“Yup.”

She could feel sweat beads rolling down the back of her neck. She did not enjoy lying and she was not very skilled at it…but this was not a lie. Maybe an omission? After all, Tracy did not ask her if she was with someone or anything like that.

“All by yourself?”

Crap.

Did she know? Had she walked by the library?

No, no. Em, play it cool. She didn’t know anything. It was simply Tracy being her usual nosy self. Nothing more.

“Study group.” Two people could be a group, right? “I’m trying to be more social.”

“Good.”

Emily felt relief as she hoped this was the conclusion of that conversation. Honestly, she did not need any more questions about Matthew. Although she had to admit that his situation had now caught her attention.

He had been vague but something had happened, she was sure of it. Also, why was it that someone who never cared about their studies was now completely fascinated by them?

Something did not add up and though it did not concern her, she found herself pulling her laptop out of its protective sleeve as she laid down on her light blue comforter.

Now that she had his full name, thanks to his email, she should be able to find something about him. Let’s see. ~Matthew Miller.~ ~Yes~. Search results! Although the latest headline had her frowning; ~promising athlete injured.~

She hovered her mouse on it and then pressed. Her eyes skimmed the screen while she tightly pinched her lips together. Oh. It did not say much about how it occurred, but it did say that it was bad enough that he would be benched for the session from the track team.

No wonder his focus had suddenly shifted. Someone like him was probably here on a sports scholarship. Great, now she felt bad for him… She knew what it was like to have your life and your plans shattered in front of you with no backup plan in store.

He had lost everything. Although—it didn’t say anything about permanent damage. He would eventually be able to heal and get his life back together, right?

Maybe she could be a little nicer. She opened up an email and quickly typed up his name—no subject line. Next week, same time, same place. And sent.

She shut the lid and let out a sigh.

Emily was only doing this because his life sucked too.

No other reason.