“Can I help you?” she asks. Her tone is brusque. She gives me a lightning fast once-over, and though I see a flash of interest in her gaze, she masks it and gives me an ‘I’m not impressed.’look.
“Yeah, actually.” I let my gaze track over her and let my interest show. “I was hoping you’d be down for grabbing a drink with me later.” I shoot my shot, knowing she’ll reject it but that’s alright. I’m stalling for time here.
“Sorry. I don’t date students.”
Well, hello there. That means she’s faculty or a teacher’s aide. Maybe a graduate student who helps after classes. My bet is on teachers’s aide. She can’t be older than twenty-five, and she doesn’t seem the type to sit behind a desk all day in one of the admissions offices.
She moves to step around me, but I sidestep, keeping in her way. She makes an irritated sound and props one hand on her hip. “That’s good because I’m not a student.”
Her eyes widen before narrowing in doubt. “You don’t go to PacNorth?”
I shake my head and step closer to her. Her breath catches, pupils dilating and yeah, she’s interested.
“Nah. I just gave a friend a lift. They have a buddy who attends, so we were dropping in to say hello.”
She licks her lips and gives me another once over, this one slower. Like the realization that I’m not a student grants her permission to check me out.
“I’m Deacon.”
She hesitates before giving me her name. “Jameia.”
Jameia. I like it. It’s different. Exotic. Like her.
The phone in her hand rings and she tears her gaze from mine to answer it, flicking her eyes up once before she turns her back on me in search of some small measure of privacy.
“Hello?”
I chance a look over my shoulder as she talks to whoever her caller is. Kasey lifts her head at the same time and grimaces, getting the other girls’ attention and telling them to hurry the fuck up. Allie rushes the box that’d held the plastic forks to a nearby recycling bin right as Jameia finishes her call and turns back to me.
“It was nice meeting you, Deacon. But I have an appointment to get to.”
“Let me walk you,” I tell her, falling into step beside her, and we head right for Kasey and the others.
“That’s really okay. I’m just going to the soccer field.”
I push my hands in my pockets and shrug. “I’m happy to. Besides, I’m heading out soon anyway and I’m parked over there.” I indicate the lot and she nods, not having an excuse to send me away. When we get closer to the field, she realizes something is wrong and her footsteps speed up.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she curses. I hide my smirk and follow a few steps behind her as she practically runs to the field. “Who did this?”
Before I can answer, not that she was really asking me, more curses fill the air and I turn to spot three Hispanic guys heading our way. “What the fuck happened?” One asks as soon as he’s close. He’s got tattoos running down his arms. Large roses inked over the top of his hands. His neck is covered in more ink, some colorful card design painting the columns of his throat. The work is solid, the colors vivid and bright.
He gives me a nod in greeting but turns his attention to Jameia, the others closing in around him. “I don’t know. I just got here, and it was like this.” She waves at the soccer field behind her and I take a few measure steps back. Now is a good time to make my getaway so after I’ve gone a few steps, I do a quick turn around and head for my car. Kasey’s eyes are wide as they look out at me through the windshield and Allie stands beside the back rear door, her eyes bright and her smile wide.
I chuckle. Someone is obviously pleased with themselves.
I’m almost to my car when someone shouts, “Alejandra, get that fine ass of yours over here!”
I turn just as the same three guys who were talking to Jameia run my way. Hell nah.
I’m almost to my car, so I turn to face them and bark out a quick “Get in the car,” to Allie. Does she listen? Of course not. Not that I’d expect anything less from one of Kasey’s friends. Birds of a feather and all that shit. I hold my hands out in front of me and block their way. “Woah. Woah. Let’s relax here for a minute. You three look like you have some business to handle over there,” I wave toward the field. “And me and my friends have someplace to be. You’ll have to catch your girl later.”
Later like when her footballer boyfriend can deal with the hostility coming off him.
“Nah. I’ll catch her now. Thanks man.”
He shifts to pass me but I shoulder check him and he whirls on me, eyes narrowed and nostrils flaring. “We have a problem, man?” he asks.
His two friends close in and I catch sight of Jameia on the sideline, face pinched in worry, but whether for me or the others, I’m not sure.
