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With a shake of my head, I walked to the back of the classroom, taking a seat by the disturbed girl just in time for class to begin.
“I’m Dr. Shipman. I’ll be your Intro to Sociology professor this semester.” He droned on and on about his professional experience and interests in the field. Why do all teachers share the same obligatory introduction speech? No one cared where they went to school or how long they had been teaching. Shipman finally passed out the syllabi, which took forever, giving me a window of opportunity to talk to the girl who had captured my attention.
“Hi. I’m–” The brat cut me off.
“You’re not asking me out. I’d say no. Don’t waste your breath. And we’re definitely not making out. Pay your buddies, because nothing is going to happen between you and me.” She didn’t even turn her head to look in my direction.
“Judgey, much?” I raised the corner of my lip and wobbled my head like a diva. Probably looked like a goofball, but that was the point. Make her laugh.
She smiled the tiniest bit Big or small, it was a smile. In my book, that was a point for me. “What’s with the dark colors and pale face? Attending a funeral later?”
Immediately, her smile vanished. Must have hit a nerve. It would have done the same for me. Coach Foster’s service was the only funeral I’d ever attended. It was one of the worst days of my life. The second was the day Meghan moved away.
“Ooh! Better idea. You’re an undercover mime pretending to be a college student. Don’t break your cover by talking. Just nod yes or no.”
She shook her head, “No.” The corners of her lips slightly curved back into the barely there smile I had worked to find. The soft shape of the rim of her mouth left me wanting. Her lips on mine would probably make for an unforgettable memory.
“Let’s start over. I’m Chase.”
“Chase?” She lowered her brows, then turned to me faster than a Lazy Susan on a table full of hungry kids. So, she had heard about me? I was the leading wide receiver in the south. Girls from all over the south knew about me. Maybe she was one of my fans.
Yeah, right…
Her eyes connected with mine. There was something familiar about her gaze, yet cold and lifeless. Strands of her dark, red tipped hair fell perfectly around the frame of her face.
A strange chemistry deep in my bones compelled me to touch her. To push her hair behind her ear. To hold her hand. It was a strange pull that I hadn’t felt since Meghan.
“Have we met?” I asked, thinking it was a simple question. Her reply should have been a simple answer. It never came.
The professor started talking again. It took every ounce of willpower I had to focus on the lecture instead of the woman beside me. The ticking of the second hand on the classroom clock beat louder and louder with each passing minute.
During a class break, Adam and Luke bombarded me with text messages. Apparently, I forgot to silence my phone. The first ping was so loud, everyone in the room turned my way.
Adam: Did you get her number?
Luke: When’s the date?
Jarod: Date? Fuck that!
Jarod: haha! Get it… fuck. THAT!
Fucking idiots.
When I looked up, the girl vanished. She came back just as class began again.
“Everything okay?” I asked, hoping for a sliver of anything that would lead to another conversation.
“Always.” She was sitting inches away from me, but something about this chick made it feel like we were light years apart. There was no reason for me to want to close the gap between us. To pick her up and carry her back to my planet. Yet, there was nothing I wanted more that to talk to her or to catch a simple laugh.
Adam: You good?
Luke: Need us to send Jarod up for a rescue?
Adam: We could always say coach called for an emergency practice.
Me: I’m good. Back off!
Jarod: No can do, brother.
