The girl who’d touched his shoulder had been gorgeous. I wore leggings because they were comfy and warm. She wore them because she was proud of her body. If I was tall, toned, and perfect like her, I’d flaunt it, too.
Okay, I wouldn’t.
“Rose, look at me.” I pointed at my hair. “I’m just a few steps up from not smelling. I didn’t even brush my hair this morning, just put it up like this.”
I wasn’t insulted by her slight wince.
I gave her a pointed stare. “I lost a pencil in my hair. No way Zeb Wilder, let alone any guy on campus, is into me.”
She set her hand on my arm. “Okay, we gotta work on your self-esteem. You’re gorgeous. I’ll give you the messy hair, but it’s exam week. I’ve seen people out in their pajamas. He can see what I see. You’re so fucking pretty and you don’t even know it. I wish I had lips like that. Look at mine.” She pointed at herself. “It’s like they were put on upside down and it looks like I’m frowning all the time. You have blue eyes I’d give my right boob for. And–”
I held up my hand. “I get it. I need to try harder.”
She shook her head. “If you’re wearing his sweatshirt, that means you don’t.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Ugh!” she flung up her hands, went to her cell and sent a text. As I grabbed a soda from our mini-fridge, there was a quick knock. Faith flew in like there was an emergency. She was bursting with excitement which made me miss Angela right behind her.
They were good friends with Rose and lived down the hall. Both being close to six feet tall, they were on the volleyball team. While I didn’t do tons of things with them socially, they were always nice to me.
“What’s going on? You said–CAMMIE!” Faith squealed. She was in a dark blue pajama set with a dog’s face over them. It was her dog, Roger, and her mom had gotten them specially made.
Angela stomped across the room and spun me about. I had to put my hand on my desk to keep from falling. “Oh my God,” she gasped. “You’re wearing Zeb Wilder’s sweatshirt. Please say the sex is good. That everything is proportional.”
I blushed, imagining exactly that. He was big. Really big, and that meant his dick had to be big, too.
“See?” Rose commented with a raised brow.
“God wouldn’t give him a throwing arm like he has and a little dick. That would be cruel,” Angela added.
I held up my hands in surrender. “I’m tutoring him in genetics.”
“I’m a French major, but I know enough about genetics that the two of you will make gorgeous babies.”
I gasped, then laughed. “Angela!”
Rose and Faith nodded their agreement.
“There is nothing going on between me and Zeb Wilder,” I repeated, now for Faith’s and Angela’s benefit.
“Okay, go overeverythingthat happened during your tutor session,” Faith said, flopping down on Rose’s bed. “God, I can think of something I want him totutorme in.”
I sat on the edge of mine. It had a soft yellow comforter and I ran my fingers over it.
“We met for tutoring in the library. I tutored.”
“And?” Faith asked, eyebrow raised.
“I didn’t even know he was a football player until Rose told me.”
“You studied. Then what?” Angela asked, sitting down next to Faith. Faith slid up the bed to give her room.
“Then he said he’d walk me back to my dorm.”
Rose dropped into her desk chair. “You usually stay late to study.”
“Yeah, he said he’d walk me home then or when I was done.”
