The Studying Hours (How to Date a Douchebag 1)

Hayley cuts me off with a loud, giddy laugh. “Okay, okay. I get it now; study is the new word for screwing, isn’t it? And don’t you dare lie to me.”

“Screwing! Who’s screwing who what now?” Another voice enters the conversation as Sydney breezes through the living room, pulling her blonde hair back into a high pony and securing it with a rubber band. “Girl, you know my ears perked right up when I heard that word.”

I fidget uncomfortably, rocking back on the low heels of my boots. I haven’t exactly been…forthcoming about my budding relationship with Sebastian, and I’ve been dreading this conversation, purposefully withholding information. Afraid of what she’ll say, how she’ll judge me. Worried she’ll be pissed.

Or worse, hurt.

The very last place I want to have this conversation is the doorway while I’m on my way to meet him.

I don’t handle things like this well, disappointing people I care about—in this case, my roommate, who admittedly gets infatuated with good-looking guys frequently, especially ones that play sports, are well-built, well-connected, and sought after by the entire female populous.

Sebastian ticks all those boxes.

And I know she thinks she has a crush on him.

Daunting conversations like the one I’m about to have are one of the reasons I haven’t thrown myself into the college dating scene.

Guys like Sebastian come with drama, drama, drama.

But he’s been worth it, so worth it. So please, just shoot me now and put me out of my passive-aggressive existence because I do not want to hurt my friend.

But I’m also not willing to give up what it took me so long to find.

Hayley, unfortunately, beats me to it. “You know, James and Oz have been hooking up.”

That is not what I was expecting, and so startled am I that I almost drop the books in my arms out of complete shock. My face flushes from complete embarrassment; never in my life has anyone strung my name and the words ‘hooking up’ together in a sentence.

“I…w-we…we…” Oh god, I’m stuttering. “We’re not hooking up,” I finally manage, face a blazing inferno.

Sydney’s face, well—that’s another story. First her eyebrows shoot up, entertained. But then…the words sink in. Oz. James. Hooking up.

Her vivid blue eyes scan Hayley’s smug expression, digest my quick denial and flaming red cheeks. I swear she can see the stress rash developing across my chest through my shirt.

“Of course you’re not hooking up with him.” Sydney blows out a puff of air and flips her hair in Hayley’s direction. “James doesn’t do hookups; everyone knows that.”

I don’t even have the fortitude to be insulted by her tone.

Our other roommate demurs angelically, “You’re right, I shouldn’t have used the term hookup. They’re dating, aren’t you James?”

“I…”

But Hayley doesn’t stop, hands flailing about her as she speaks. “He brought her to that fraternity party you missed last weekend when you went home. You should have seen him, totally glued to her side the entire night. Fetched things for her like a puppy dog. So cute.”

“Uh…” It’s all I can say, so bad at this someone should take away my girl card because Lord knows my backbone has disappeared.

“Then he hauled her off early. Well, because of that fight with that big wrestler—you went back to his place, didn’t you? ’Cause I know you didn’t come home.” She snickers and I feel sick, like I’m gonna vom all over Hayley’s trendy platform wedges.

Sydney’s face scrunches up, whether from distaste or disappointment, it’s impossible to tell. “James, for real?”

“I mean…” I shrug my shoulders. “Yeah?”

My feet shift beneath me, the books in my arms becoming dead weight.

Sydney glares at Hayley then turns her wounded stare on me. “Why didn’t you tell me, James? Why would you let me go out with him if you liked him?”

Right. I did do that…

“Why wouldn’t you have said something? I feel like such a jerk.”

Because I was scared and embarrassed and a fool. Because I wasted time when I could have been spending it with Sebastian instead of avoiding him.

“I’m sorry.”

Sydney throws her hands up, exasperated. “James, you’re the one who said he was un-dateable. You’re the one who said all he did was sleep around. You’re the one who said—”

“I know what I said, Sydney! I was wrong.”

Sydney—sensitive, understanding Sydney—shows me the reason why she’s beautiful both inside and out. “God, I feel like such an idiot—I had no idea you liked him.”

And now I feel like an idiot because she’s the one apologizing when I’m the one who—

“If he’s what makes you happy… Just don’t let him break your heart. Don’t let him do to you what you told me he would do.”

And now I’m cringing because the words come back to me verbatim: The guy screws everyone…I saw him getting a hand-job at a party in the hallway…It’s probably a good idea to stay away from a guy like that, no matter how good looking he is…No doubt he’s run out of room on his bedpost for notches…

Blushing, I look down at the floor, embarrassed to have judged Sebastian before I knew him, and embarrassed to have kept my budding relationship from one of my best friends.