easy does it

Ruston Rhambos. 22. Yale University.

[apropergimlet-blog]

Unable to help herself- she was a hot-blooded woman, after all- Gin blurted out, “Oh your accent,” before she could even get a ‘thank you’ on her mind. “Shit, sorry. That was embarrassing. What I meant to say was, thank you, that’s kind of you. And then, of course, ask you if you’ve spent much time in the South. Which you obviously have.” 

Nothing about this man set him apart from any other at the party- rich, handsome, nice enough at first glance- so Gin supposed it was really fine that she’d gone and embarrassed herself in front of him. Oh well. She couldn’t be a winner in everyone’s eyes.

[rustonrhambos-blog]

It wasn't the first time he'd been reminded of his accent since coming to Yale, and it certainly wouldn't be the last; despite having gone through this situation countless times before, though, Ruston felt his cheeks grow hot. He'd tried to suppress it when he'd first arrived, but constantly policing his own way of speaking had been exhausting, and after a few weeks of trying, he'd given up.

Ruston Rhambos wasn't raised a quitter, but some things — like trying to hide a rather integral part of who he was and where he came from — simply weren't worth it. Luckily, his accent seemed to charm more often than it annoyed, and if nothing else, it made for a decent conversation starter. "Don't be," he chuckled, his free hand moving to sheepishly rub the back of his neck — a telltale sign that he was embarrassed, though neither of them should've been. "But yes, I have. Eighteen years and then some, actually. And you, Miss? Are you from here?"

[apropergimlet-blog]

Growing up, parties had generally been a good time. Her high school had been easy to navigate, considering she’d thrown herself into all of the clubs and sports she could without putting too much on her plate. Friends had come in abundance, and life had always been full of people her age along with her mother, fun, full of love, without too much expectation. 

The Carroses were the opposite of that upbringing, which was why, Gin supposed, her parents had tried so hard to keep her sheltered from that life. They weren’t asking for too much, though, her grandparents, especially considering what they were giving her in return. She could very easily just survive the next four hours in this dress that was probably worth the same as a textbook and then just never see these people again. 

Until, of course, the next time one of these things was happening and her grandparents forced her to come. Clutching her phone tighter in her palm, Gin approached the buffet table. Someone was already there and had seen her coming, so all she had to do was take the proffered plate. 

“Oh! Thank you so much,” she said as she took it. 

[rustonrhambos-blog]

The party was proving to be every bit as boring as Gerard had warned him it would be, but Ruston hardly minded. The food was good enough — not nearly as seasoned as he was used to, but edible just the same — and he had an excuse to get out of his dorm, to get off his phone, which he'd thought his girlfriend of three years would be blowing up by the time he stepped away to check it an hour or so in.

Not one message.

It was a reiteration of the same argument they'd had when he'd first made the decision to attend Yale and had relived countless times since, each time barely different from the last. How could he be so SELFISH? They'd had plans. And how was she supposed to feel knowing he was socializing with girls far smarter than she was in a city hours away?

Prettier, smarter, richer — all types of girls she was certain he'd encounter, and by all means, he had. But not one of them had been her.

Not one.

Kindness was so much of a habit that holding the plate out for the young woman — a rather attractive brunette — required no forethought, no deliberation. "You're quite welcome." Ruston smiled politely down at her before turning back to the buffet to fill his own plate with seconds.

[julianmorrisonline]