Unclaimed Regrets Read online

  “Just a few days ago, actually. My parents bought the Wilson farm and everything happened so quickly. Can’t say I was very excited about moving, but I’m starting to re-think that.” He looks directly into my eyes as he says this.

  Is he flirting with me? This makes me a little flustered since I’m not sure how to respond to that. I try to recover by saying, “It was sad when old man Wilson passed. His kids didn’t want to take over the farm so they had to sell. I hadn’t realized it had been sold.”

  Before he can say anything else, we arrive at our classroom. I take him to our teacher and introduce him. She welcomes him and tells us to take a seat anywhere. He naturally sits beside me since he doesn’t know a soul, and I secretly love that I’m the first person he came into contact with. Maybe today is my lucky day.

  Our Algebra teacher introduces Trey to the whole class, and he nods his head in reply. All of the girls are practically salivating and I realize this is probably a losing battle. There are so many gorgeous girls that attend our school, like there’s something in the water in this town - only it didn’t reach my house. It’s not that I’m unattractive, but when I compare myself to all the big-busted, blonde beauties in this school, I feel I pale in comparison. It’s been my experience that most guys go for the blondes and big boobs, and here I am a brunette and nothing to speak of in the boob department. I have lots of guy friends, but no one who has really taken a romantic interest. The fact that he was flirting earlier will go right out the window when he starts looking around at his choices. Deflated, I slouch down in my seat.

  I realize Trey will get along fine at this school. He was probably popular at the school he transferred from. How could he not be with his looks? And he seems very comfortable in his skin with how unaffected he is by all the girls batting their eyelashes at him, he’s probably very used to this.

  When the bell rings and class is over, Trudy Ryker, blonde, big-busted head cheerleader, makes her move. “Hey, Trey. I’m Trudy and you should look for me at lunch so you won’t have to worry about where to sit,” she says to him in her perky, cheerleader voice.

  Trey seems to be taken back a bit and just stares at her while trying to come up with a response. “Thanks, Trudy, but I’ve been assigned to stick with Adelyn for a while until I get comfortable. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” He turns to me as I’m trying to get the shocked expression off my face and says, “You ready?”

  “Um, yeah. Sure.” I sound like such a doofus. Gathering my things, I weave through the desks and out the door to the bustling hallway. I turn to Trey, who has a shit-eating grin on his beautiful face, and say, “I don’t even know if we have the same lunch. Give me your schedule again.”

  He produces it and I scan it quickly, my heart racing wildly, praying we have the same lunch period. Yes! We both have first lunch. I can’t help the huge smile that appears on my face, and I calmly tell him, “It is your lucky day.” He winks at me and I’ve just experienced the definition of swooning.

  I direct Trey to his next class and try to rush to mine. I wonder if I have any more classes with him today, and I mentally kick myself for not memorizing his schedule. I don’t even know what grade he’s in. My math class has sophomores and juniors in it so he could be either.

  I’m in my history class and I can’t concentrate on anything but Trey Masterson. I just know there is no way I can compete with all the girls in this school. Do I really stand a chance with him? I refuse to be something I’m not, so if he doesn’t like me for me, then screw it; we can just be friends. I feel much better after coming to this conclusion.

  Trey doesn’t show up in my third period class, and I find myself wondering how many times that he’s been approached, in just two periods, by the subtle sluts of this school. It’s a small town and there’s not that much to do. It kills me the way these girls throw themselves at guys, like they have no shame. It’s like sex is an extra-curricular activity in this town. This is probably why I have more guy friends than girl. I’m not part of their circle and I have no problem with this.

  Finally, lunch period arrives and I find myself searching frantically for Trey, having no idea where his locker is. I quickly look inside the cafeteria and don’t see him, so I wait outside and search up and down the hallway. My heart drops when I see him approaching with Amanda Jewel, senior slut.

  He sees me waiting for him and I swear his eyes light up. Am I imagining this? His smile matches his eyes as he stops beside me. He politely turns to Amanda and says, “Thanks for showing me where the cafeteria is and for the invite to sit with you, but I already have plans to sit with Adelyn.” She practically snarls at me as she gives me the most disgusted look. Sometimes I’m actually embarrassed to be part of the female gender; guys don’t ever act like this.

  “Well, maybe tomorrow then,” she says in a sickening sweet, fake voice. She makes her way towards the ‘mean girls’ table.

  Trey pretends not to notice her rudeness towards me and asks, “Shall we?”

  I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I say to him, “If you’d rather sit with someone else, it’s fine. It’s not like you are really assigned to me.”

  His eyes roam all over my face, trying to really read me. He says, “I choose to eat with you, Snowflake.” This isn’t the first time someone has directed a nickname at me regarding my last name, Winters, but it’s definitely the first time it’s given me chills. He just gave me a nickname.

  As we make our way through the lunch line, I feel all eyes on us and it’s making me really uncomfortable. I usually like to blend in, not stand out. I look over to Trey and realize he’s oblivious to it all, once again. I’ve never met anyone so calm and confident in all of my life.

  I lead the way to our lunch table, and Cam and Dylan are already there, discussing their previous weekend. “Hey, guys. This is Trey Masterson. He just moved her and I’ve been showing him around.”

  Cam nods to Trey. “What’s up, man? Welcome to Northfield.” I smile with pride, knowing they would be genuinely nice. That’s why I’m friends with them. “I’m Cam and this is Dylan.” Dylan gives him the masculine nod also.

  “Thanks, man. It’s been interesting here so far,” Trey tells them, taking a seat beside me. His knee is touching mine and it’s hard for me to even follow their conversation, feeling the heat through my jeans.

  Dylan laughs at this. “I bet it has. Where are you from?”

  “Missouri,” Trey responds.

  “Dang, you came a long way. What brings you here?” Cam chimes in. I like learning all the information I can about him. Every. Little. Detail.

  “My dad has always wanted to own a farm out east, and when he came upon the Wilson estate sale, he jumped on it. Needless to say, our lives have been in an upheaval ever since.”

  “Good luck adjusting to small-town living,” Cam tells him, “it ain’t for everyone.”

  “I don’t think I’ll have a problem adjusting,” Trey tells him. I notice he glances at me while he says this. I pray my intuition isn’t playing tricks on me. I’m not very good at trying to decipher the actions of hot guys. I realize at this moment that I will not be happy just being his friend. I want more.

  Dylan asks him, “You play any sports, Trey?” Both of these guys are jocks and play football, basketball and baseball. I go to their games to support them. They know they can always look out to the bleachers and see me there, as long as I’m not working.

  To my surprise, Trey says, “Nah, never had much time for that. I give my dad every hour I can on the farm. I enjoy the work and it saves him from having to hire extra help.” I was already imagining myself sitting in the bleachers, silently cheering him on.

  Cam nods at me. “Did you guys meet before school started?” I begin to wonder if he thinks we’re together. I wish!

  “No, we met in the office first thing this morning, and Mrs. Brady asked me to show him around,” I inform him.

  He turns to Trey and says, “The girls will be falling at your fe
et, man. I predict you’ll be in hog heaven, my friend. Have fun with that.”

  I could just punch him right now. I hate it when they act like I’m not a girl and want to hear their ‘guy talk’, especially when it comes to Trey. I know they have no idea I’m crushing hard on him but geez.

  Trey fidgets in his seat and looks at me uncomfortably. Cam looks at me now and says, “Sorry, Addie.” I just roll my eyes at him. Can someone just say something else?

  Dylan comes to the rescue. “What year are you? Junior?”

  “No, I’m a sophomore. You guys juniors?” Trey asks, looking around the table. I’m so happy that he’s in my grade.

  “Nope, we’re sophomores too. Wish we were seniors though. I’m ready to get on with my life and out of this small town,” Dylan throws out there. Cam nods in agreement.

  Trey turns to me. “I thought you were a junior or a senior. You seem way more mature than the other girls I’ve talked to.” I smile inside at his observation, but play it cool on the outside.

  “Nope, just a sophomore,” I say, shrugging.

  We finish our lunch, making more small talk. I can tell these guys are going to be friends. Even though Cam and Dylan play sports, they don’t act like they’re superior, and Trey has picked up on that. So far I love everything I have learned about Trey; he seems like a great guy.

  Before the bell rings, I ask Trey to see his schedule again. My heart soars when I see we have last period together – science. I tell him this and he smiles and says, “My luck is never-ending today.” I quickly look over at Cam and Dylan to see if they heard this, but they’re in a discussion of their own and didn’t notice.

  I summon up the courage to say, “Maybe the luck’s all mine.”

  He looks hard in my eyes. “Maybe it is.” Coming from anyone else, I might take that as a cocky remark, but not coming from Trey. I don’t find him to be cocky, just confident. There’s always a fine line.

  *****

  I can hardly make it through my remaining classes, waiting impatiently for last period to get here. When I approach the room, I see Trey waiting outside, hopefully for me. He looks happy to see me, and I say to him, “I see you had no problem finding science class.”

  “I’m starting to learn my way around, although I was late for last period because I got turned around and felt like I was going in circles,” he says, laughing at himself.

  We go inside and I feel like I’ve hit the lottery – there are only double tables in here, and I know who I’m sitting beside. We take a seat somewhere in the middle and I feel some of the girls giving me the evil eye, wondering how I have dibs on the new guy. I don’t think for a second they’re going to back down from trying to fight for Trey’s attention, but I sure do love how he ignores their stares.

  Mr. Brumbaugh clears his throat and announces if we don’t like who we’re sitting with to change now since that will be our science partner for the rest of the semester. Yes! I am so looking forward to science class from now on.

  Trey looks at me, lifting his eyebrows in question. “What?” I ask him.

  “Just waiting to see if you’re going to switch seats,” he says amused.

  “I don’t have to be the one…you can switch too,” I tease.

  He leans into me and practically whispers in my ear, “Not on your life.”

  He knows he has an effect on me. I would wager to bet he has an effect on all girls. Part of me feels so out of my league, but the other part hopes I at least have a shot at something.

  I barely pay attention to Mr. Brumbaugh since I have a heightened sense of everything Trey does; shifting in his seat, flipping his pencil, bouncing his leg, and even stealing glances at me. I need to get a grip if I don’t want to do poorly in this class. I pride myself on being a good student, making good grades, and I don’t want anything to prevent me from doing so.

  The bell finally rings and the whole class starts getting up from their seats, relieved to be going home for the day. Trey waits for me to gather my things, and we head out the door to our lockers. We come to his locker first, now I know where it is. I’m not sure what to do, so I say, “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” and I start to turn away.

  He grabs my elbow and says, “Hey, did you drive to school?”

  I shake my head. “No, I don’t have a car. I take the bus in.”

  “I have my truck. I can give you a lift home if you want,” he says with hope in his voice.

  “Actually, on Mondays and Wednesdays I work at the library in town after school, but it would be out of your way,” I say, suddenly wishing I didn’t have to work this afternoon.

  “I don’t care about that. It would help me learn my way around. I’d be happy to take you to the library.”

  “You sure? I don’t mind taking the bus,” I lie.

  He slams his locker shut and says, “Come on, I’m taking you.” Once again, I feel the girls in the hallway circling us like piranhas. Why can’t I just ignore them like Trey does? Then he asks, “Where’s your locker?”

  I like take-charge Trey. I start leading us toward my locker so I can put the books away that I don’t need tonight. I’ve already got a short paper to write for English class.

  We make our way to the parking lot to an old, faded blue pickup truck. He unlocks the passenger door and helps me up. I watch him walk around to the driver’s side and imagine that we are on a date, and he’s just picked me up. A girl can dream, right?

  “Okay,” he says, starting his truck, “point me in the right direction.”

  “Just take a left when you leave the parking lot and I’ll let you know.”

  He puts his arm on the top of the seat behind me as he turns his body to back out of the space. I can’t help but notice how taut his chest is underneath his t-shirt and how his well-defined biceps hide beneath the material. He catches me looking at his physique and grins as I turn my head and want to die. He takes a left turn, and we head toward the village common.

  He looks at the time on his dash; it reads ten after two. He glances at me. “What time do you have to be at work?”

  “At three,” I say, praying he doesn’t take me straight there now that he knows.

  “What do you want to do until then?” he asks.

  I can think of all kinds of answers to that question, but I go with, “We can just drive around and I’ll point things out to you. Tell me if there’s anything you’d like to see.”

  He looks at me sheepishly. “I’d like to see where you live.” I didn’t expect that to come out of his mouth. That just gave me butterflies in the pit of my stomach.

  “Really? Why?” That just slipped out without thinking.

  He gives me a really sexy grin, like I should know the answer to that question. “Because I have a feeling that I’m going to be wearing a path back and forth between our houses.” Holy shit! He did not just say that!

  “Um, okay, um, just turn right up here where the gas station is.” He must think I’m an idiot. I shoot him a look and he’s got that shit-eating grin on his face again.

  Okay, maybe he’s crossed the confident line over to cocky.

  I continue to guide him to my house, and he slows down and stops in front of it. It’s your typical farmhouse, but I’ve always loved it. It’s got a huge, wrap-around porch and our pole barn sits off to the left. Our closest neighbor is about a mile up the road. He looks all around and says, “It’s really nice.”

  I shrug. “It’s home.” I look back to our home and farmland and try to picture it through someone else’s eyes. It really is a beautiful piece of property. I guess I’ve always taken for granted growing up on our farm.

  He breaks the silence and says, “You already know where I live so what else do you want to show me?” I glance at the clock to see if we have enough time to show him one of my favorite places.

  “Go on up the road and turn right,” I tell him, excited to be sharing this with him.

  “Where are you taking me?” he asks, following my i
nstructions.

  “You’ll see,” I say, smirking at him.

  It’s a little ways out and I hope I’m not late for work. We come up to Slaughter House Road and I tell him to turn onto it. He does and we go for a little bit until he sees what I wanted to show him. His face lights up as we approach the 130-year-old covered bridge that carries the road over Dog River. I have always loved this covered bridge. There are a lot of them in Vermont but this one is my favorite.

  He drives through the portal and puts the truck in park. We hop out to take a look through the open window, where there is nothing but the gorgeous tree-lined river. His face says it all and I am so pleased that I could put that look of awe across it.

  We are standing side-by-side, when he puts his hand on my shoulder, encouraging me to turn towards him. I look up at him and he brings his hand up to my face, brushing the back of his hand across my cheek. Looking directly into my eyes, he says, “Thank you so much for showing me something that obviously means a lot to you. I can’t wait for you to show me more.” And then he bends down, taking my face in his hands, and lightly brushes his lips across mine. My whole body takes notice, and my hands automatically go to his waist. He pulls back and looks into my eyes and says, “As much as I’d love to stay here, I don’t want you to be late for work. Will you bring me back here when we have more time?”

  I try to find my voice and say, “Sure.”

  He kisses me on the forehead and we break apart to get back into the truck. There’s definitely a shift between us now, and I can’t believe how different I feel than when I just occupied this seat ten minutes ago. There’s an easy quiet between us as we head back into town.

  He looks over at me a couple of times before he reaches for my hand. “You okay? You’re awfully quiet,” he points out.

  I don’t want him to think I’m freaking out over that kiss – just the opposite. I give him a genuine smile and say, “Everything is more than okay.” He lets out a breath and I can see he’s relieved to hear me say that.