Academically Yours (Best Friends Book Club, #1)

by Jennifer Chipman

The university had given me my best friend, and I was so grateful that she had never once walked out of my life.

Because I had lost a piece of myself—and I was working on finding it again. Loving myself again. And maybe it just took a little encouragement from the three girls who knew me almost as well as I knew myself. My friends who had been with me through every bump, every accomplishment, every drunken night, and every cry session on the floor of our dorm rooms. God, I loved them.

Exhausted from the first day of school, exhausted from always trying to be positive and happy all the time, exhausted because I didn’t know what I was doing with my life, and I didn’t know where I was even going to start figuring that out.

Still, I would have rather been anywhere else on a Friday night than at the University. Like at home, with my dog, sitting on the couch and watching television, or reading a book. Goodness knows I’d prefer almost anything than to mingle with a bunch of staff and other faculty members, but apparently, I was fully roped into this shit now. Great. Simply great. How could I possibly get out of this?

Is there something as beautiful as divine intervention, putting you in the exact right moment that you’re meant to be in?

But I couldn’t ignore the way the air felt charged, though—almost with electricity. Somehow, I knew that nothing would ever be the same again. When I looked back up, as my eyes drew back to his, it felt as if this time I was finally seeing him. For the first time in my life, I was staring straight at him, and I didn’t know what would happen when he looked away. It was like there was a fuller picture now, one I didn’t have before as if I had learned something unforgettable about this man in less time than it took for me to make a cup of coffee.

“Stop,” she said, brushing me off but I could see her smile. “You don’t even know me. How do you know I’m not absolutely lousy?” I just raised my shoulders. “I can just tell. I have a good feeling about you, Noelle Hastings.”

Our Best Friends Book Club, as I had lovingly dubbed us the first chance I got. They all hated it—of course—but it stuck. I wanted to get matching t-shirts, but Angelina had just rolled her eyes and gave me a firm no.

“At least fictional men don’t let you down,” Charlotte complained.

“What the hell are you doing,” she cried, and I knew I had to swoop in. Because nope. Nope. Nope. Fuck this, I was getting her out of there.

Those little conversations in the coffee shop, randomly seeing him all over campus—it was always the best part of my day. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About him. Because… damn it, I wanted to spend more time with him. I wanted to get to know him and hear his stories; wanted to see his face light up as he talked about things he was passionate about.

“Nonsense.” My mother just scoffed at me. “Love is for everyone. And you never know… maybe you’ve already met the right person and you just don’t know it yet.”

“Oh my god,” Noelle gasped. “Are you blushing?” “Shut up,” I mumbled, shoving my hands in my jacket, and trying not to make eye contact with her. But I couldn’t help it, because this was Noelle, and all of my senses were attuned to her.

I cleared my throat. “Yes, I would very much like to accompany you and your residents this weekend. If it’s okay with you.” Noelle beamed. And that was when I realized—this girl was the sun. And I wanted to bathe in her warmth.

“Okay, well. Bus leaves at nine am sharp tomorrow morning. We’ll meet in front of the dorm.” She pointed a finger at my chest. “Don’t be late.” I nodded. “I won’t be.” “For some reason, I believe you.” She then pulled something out of her pocket and handed it to me. I looked down at the slip of paper, at the writing that was on it. “In case you need it, or whatever,” Noelle said.

I raised an eyebrow. How had he known my coffee order? “I pay attention,” he said, defensively.

“You know,” I mused, “it almost seems unfair.” “What?” “That you know my coffee order, but I don’t know yours.” I frowned. He just chuckled. “What. Don’t tell me—you just drink boring old black coffee?” Matthew laughed. “Sorry to disappoint, Noelle.”

Huh? “There. Now you have a photo for my contact on your phone.” “You know,” I said, putting my hands on my hips, “that does require me to actually have your phone number, Mr. Harper.” “Well, Miss Hastings, I think I can solve that,” he said, whipping out his phone and typing something in. My phone buzzed, and I wasn’t at all surprised when I read: Now you have it.

And I hoped mine communicated those feelings back to him. You’re safe. You’re cared for. You’re wanted.

He shook his head and flicked my nose. “You’re so…” “Charming? Alluring? Momentous?” I did a little flip of my hair and stood with my hands on my hips.

Part of me acknowledged that the more I talked to him, the worse my little infatuation I was harboring for him was getting, but I couldn’t stop.

Sometimes, I thought that girl watched a little too many episodes of Parks and Rec, but I wasn’t going to say that to her. No, if she wanted to worship Leslie Knope and eat a lot of breakfast food, who was I to say anything? We all had our things.

Did I know what was going on most of the time? Absolutely not.

Kissing her made me feel like everything was right in the world.

Hell. I was going to hell, most definitely.

And I had made a vow to myself right then. I didn’t need a man to heal what another broke. I could—I would heal myself, put myself back together stronger than I ever was before.

“How could I not have? You were the most beautiful girl in the room. Always are the most beautiful girl in any room,”