Read Online No Easy Choices (A New Adult Romance) by Trista Cade - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Trista Cade
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“You are not right in the head,” I said in a fake serious tone, relieved when I heard her laugh quietly, my voice turning sad again when I corrected her. “And he’s not Mexican, he’s Colombian.”
“That right there’s what I’m talking about, Andie. You’re the only girl in this whole sorority who would know there’s a difference, and you’ve got the guts to correct people. Please don’t leave.” She turned over on her side and I heard the blankets fluff softly as she pulled them up to her chin.
It was certainly a lot to think about. I never really envisioned Sorority Crusader as my role in life, and it sure didn’t hold a candle to going to another country with the Peace Corps to build an irrigation system. But maybe Kennedy was right. If I could change the sisters’ perceptions and the image of college Greeks as a whole, who knows? Maybe all the Thetas would go on to build irrigation systems somewhere. That had to be important for something, right?
Chapter Eleven
I was prepared to keep my head held high and my will strong all the next day, right up until I got back from class and found Javier sitting on the steps of the house.
“The say I have to wait here,” he began in faulting English, a frown creasing his face. He looked confused about why he had to sit on the steps outside like a common loiterer when only a day ago he was welcomed into the sitting room like royalty as the sisters wiped the drool from their collective, surgically altered chins. “But I am glad to know that when they say you are not home, it is true.”
“Hi,” I said, stopping in front of him and looking down. He immediately jumped up to take my books and portfolio case from me, practically running to set those on the porch and come back, leading me by the hand to one of the wicker rocking chairs with the overstuffed, flowered cushions.
“There is a problem,” Javier said, only he meant it like a question.
“Yes,” I began, before realizing I had nothing else to say after that. Where would I even begin explaining the problem? This guy’s whole family stands for something inexcusable, and if he had no problem with that, I was going to have a problem with him.
“It is the drugs, no? You have heard about the drugs.” He looked at me in a kind of defeated way, and something about the way he sat there with his shoulders sagging, a somber expression on his face, told me that this wasn’t the first conversation he’d had about this. Well, I’m not into criminal charity cases, so I was sure it would be the last conversation he ever had with me about it. I stepped around him.
“I’m very sorry, Javier, but we don’t believe in the same things. I have to go.” I turned and raced into the house, closing the door firmly and running straight to my room before I had a chance to let his stunning but hurting eyes change my mind.
Several times during my sob fest, a different sister would knock on the door and ask if I wanted to talk. When Kennedy finally made it back from class, she expertly fielded all of the polite—and occasionally not-so-polite—inquiries like a professional mourner at a funeral home. She answered the door with a soft voice, telling the concerned sister that I wasn’t feeling up to having visitors. It would have been hilarious if I wasn’t so miserable.
“I really liked him, Kennedy,” I finally managed to admit. “Why did he have to turn out to be a guy who pretends to be someone he’s not?”
“That I can’t answer, except to tell you a little bit more advice from my Momma. ALL guys are pretending to be something they’re not. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t
“That right there’s what I’m talking about, Andie. You’re the only girl in this whole sorority who would know there’s a difference, and you’ve got the guts to correct people. Please don’t leave.” She turned over on her side and I heard the blankets fluff softly as she pulled them up to her chin.
It was certainly a lot to think about. I never really envisioned Sorority Crusader as my role in life, and it sure didn’t hold a candle to going to another country with the Peace Corps to build an irrigation system. But maybe Kennedy was right. If I could change the sisters’ perceptions and the image of college Greeks as a whole, who knows? Maybe all the Thetas would go on to build irrigation systems somewhere. That had to be important for something, right?
Chapter Eleven
I was prepared to keep my head held high and my will strong all the next day, right up until I got back from class and found Javier sitting on the steps of the house.
“The say I have to wait here,” he began in faulting English, a frown creasing his face. He looked confused about why he had to sit on the steps outside like a common loiterer when only a day ago he was welcomed into the sitting room like royalty as the sisters wiped the drool from their collective, surgically altered chins. “But I am glad to know that when they say you are not home, it is true.”
“Hi,” I said, stopping in front of him and looking down. He immediately jumped up to take my books and portfolio case from me, practically running to set those on the porch and come back, leading me by the hand to one of the wicker rocking chairs with the overstuffed, flowered cushions.
“There is a problem,” Javier said, only he meant it like a question.
“Yes,” I began, before realizing I had nothing else to say after that. Where would I even begin explaining the problem? This guy’s whole family stands for something inexcusable, and if he had no problem with that, I was going to have a problem with him.
“It is the drugs, no? You have heard about the drugs.” He looked at me in a kind of defeated way, and something about the way he sat there with his shoulders sagging, a somber expression on his face, told me that this wasn’t the first conversation he’d had about this. Well, I’m not into criminal charity cases, so I was sure it would be the last conversation he ever had with me about it. I stepped around him.
“I’m very sorry, Javier, but we don’t believe in the same things. I have to go.” I turned and raced into the house, closing the door firmly and running straight to my room before I had a chance to let his stunning but hurting eyes change my mind.
Several times during my sob fest, a different sister would knock on the door and ask if I wanted to talk. When Kennedy finally made it back from class, she expertly fielded all of the polite—and occasionally not-so-polite—inquiries like a professional mourner at a funeral home. She answered the door with a soft voice, telling the concerned sister that I wasn’t feeling up to having visitors. It would have been hilarious if I wasn’t so miserable.
“I really liked him, Kennedy,” I finally managed to admit. “Why did he have to turn out to be a guy who pretends to be someone he’s not?”
“That I can’t answer, except to tell you a little bit more advice from my Momma. ALL guys are pretending to be something they’re not. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t
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