He’s tall and pale and greasy in a horrifying “don’t find me alone in the woods at night” kind of way. Thick black glasses cover his eyes, and long dark hair falls around his cheeks and across his forehead. A thick brow lifts, and he’s got to at least have five to seven years on me. There’s nothingteenagerabout him no matter how slim he is. Heck, if he weren’t in a black and azure coat boasting the giantAlogo of this campus, I’d assume he was a teacher.
Professor.
There aren’t paltryteachersin college.
“U-um,” I croak, and if I can thank embarrassment for anything it’s the fact the heat in my cheeks might be offsetting a case of pneumonia.
He notices the box under me, and both his dark brows rise. Keeping the umbrella over me, he steps to the side, angling his head to get a better look, then he makes a deephuhsound in his throat without so much as opening his mouth. “I take it you’re not the one abandoning them?”
My mouth drops open. “I wouldnever. I’ve wanted a cat forever, but my parents are against animals that shed. And also joy.”
Once again, he makes a sound without opening his mouth—except this time it’s almost like a laugh. His eyes—impressively dark in this lighting—find me past those unflattering and thick glasses of his.
When authors describe guys withhigh cheekbonesandchiseled features, they are probably talking about this dude. Except there’s a small problem withthis dudeand thosenoticeably sharpfeatures.
He’s lanky.
He’s a college student.
The ramen diet leaves him on the painfully thin side.
So, obviously, all that nice bone structure is paired a bit too violently with hollow undernourishment.
If I wasn’t already calling himSlenderman Guyin my head, now that is his official title.
“You’ve been talking to yourself out here for a while,” he notes, casually, unlike a murderer, even if it sounds like he’s been creepily watching (and listening) to me?
The distress must show on my face because he clarifies, motioning toward a building behind us. “My dorm. My room window faces this way and I was sitting in front of it at my desk when I saw you, then when I saw it start to pour.”
“Oh,” I murmur. I quickly rewritecreepily watching metogallantly making an effort to save me from the rain. “Maybe you know where the dorm I’m supposed to be at is? Wellington Hall? I’m doing a college tour thing with my junior class, and I wandered outside to…get some fresh air.” Technically.Technically, I’m out here to “get some fresh air.”Notrun away. I wasn’t at all overwhelmed by my entirely female class being packed into the one big dorm room and left with little to no adult supervision. My brain wasn’t at all spinning horrific possibilities into existence concerning bullying, popular girls, and me starring as the book nerd.
Slenderman Guy bristles, whispering a coarse swear. “You’re a junior? In high school?”
“Yeah?”
His attention slashes over me, and the heat beneath my skin that’s keeping me from frostbite ticks up a couple notches. Voice rougher than before, he murmurs, “Seventeen?”
“Yes?”
Another hissed curse, and then rain splashes against me as he fumbles with the umbrella and removing his coat. Thrusting the black and blue thing toward me, as though he’s no longer comfortable looking at me, he clears his throat, opens his mouth,and closes it again. Breath pours from his nose as he finally finds words. “Your clothes are completely see-through.”
Oh. Wow. Um.
I take his coat and shoot upright, stammering, “I’m so sorry.” Clearly, I misjudged just how numb my legs had gone, because the second I’m up, I all but plummet into him.
Time freezes when I hit his chest.
The rain stops.
The softmewsof the kittens barely reach my ears. My eyes find his, and if this guy were actually Slenderman, I’d be dead.
His breath catches.
A streak of lightning illuminates a flash of his ocean blue eyes before a clap of thunder explodes in my head.
I echo a pathetic, “I’m so sorry. My legs are numb.”
“Yeah?” he asks, his gaze falling before yanking back up, off me, toward the silver prongs of his umbrella. “It’s fine.”
