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He nodded. “It’s like the water is all there is,” he said, echoing my thoughts from earlier. “No people, no sounds, no thoughts.” He stretched his long jeans-clad legs alongside mine. “So…what are you running away from?”
“What?” My voice came out in a rasp as I glanced up at him sharply.
“Roommates driving you crazy?” he asked, and I blinked, realizing he meant it as an innocent question.
“No, they’re fine. I just…” I shrugged. “I guess I just have a low tolerance for people these days.”
Rather than ask me why, or press me on it, he tilted his head, his eyes studying my face. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”
I thought about it. “No, that’s okay,” I said after a moment, surprised to find it was true.
We sat in silence for a while, and it was almost like he blended into the surroundings, his company soothing rather than awkward. Eventually I moved to lie back on the rock, letting my legs dangle off the side until my feet were inches from the water. The canopy of leaves didn’t reach far enough out over the water to obstruct my view of the sky, and the stars overhead were bright twinkling lights against the velvet backdrop of the night sky.
“I’ve never seen stars so bright,” I said softly, and felt more than saw Micah lean back to lie next to me.
“Can you not see them where you’re from?” he asked.
I gave a short laugh. “I’m from Los Angeles. You’re lucky if you can see any stars at all.”
He didn’t answer, just tipped his head toward mine. Awareness of his body stretched out next to me coursed through my blood. I could practically feel the heat of his thigh next to mine even though we weren’t touching, and I knew if I tilted my head, his face would be right there, aligned perfectly with mine.
I didn’t turn my head though, just stared up at the stars, and after a while, he pulled his gaze off of me and looked up as well. It still didn’t stop my awareness of him next to me though, the heat of his body causing tingles to run the length of my spine as we stared up together into the endless sky.
9
“Julie told me a funny story about you, mystery girl,” Drew informed me nearly a week later, sliding into the empty seat next to me.
Chemistry hadn’t started yet, and only a handful of students had filed in so far, milling around as they waited for class to start.
“How interesting,” I said in a voice that implied anything but, and continued digging through my bag for a pencil.
“She says she thinks you’re shy,” he went on, obviously unperturbed by my lack of interest. “Or maybe just easily embarrassed. She says you never change clothes in front of your roommates.”
“Fascinating,” I deadpanned, although inside I was fuming. Why the hell did she care, and what on earth possessed her to share that information with Drew? Just because my roommates had no qualms about stripping down in front of each other didn’t mean I had to. The last thing I needed was to answer questions about my burn scars.
“Me? I think maybe you’re hiding something,” Drew continued, and my breath caught. “I’m thinking tattoos.” He raised a finger and ran it up the length of the sleeve of my sweater. “Full sleeves?”
I jerked my arm away, hiding my relief in anger. “Back off, Drew,” I growled, but he laughed.
“You can show them to me,” he said with a wink. “I won’t mind.”
Before I could respond, the seat next to me was yanked back and Drew went sprawling to the floor.
“Oh, sorry man. I didn’t see you there,” Devan said innocently, stepping over Drew to take his seat.
Drew’s glare could have stripped paint from the wall, but at that moment Professor Svirsky entered the room in a swirl of multicolored skirts, and Drew bit back whatever reply was on his tongue, instead making his way to his seat up front with another menacing glower thrown our way.
Devan paid him no attention though, swinging his bag up onto the lab bench and turning to me with a serious expression belied only by the twinkle in his eye. I winced, knowing what was coming.
“What do you call an educated tube?” he asked me.
I gave a long-suffering sigh. “I don’t know, Devan, what do you call an educated tube?”
“A graduated cylinder,” he crowed, thumping his hand down on the desk hard enough to rattle the glassware in their racks.
I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. “Oh my God, that was terrible. Where do you come up with this shit?”
He grinned, wide enough to reveal the dimple that creased his unshaven jaw. “Aww, don’t pretend you don’t love me. Chocolate?” he offered, pulling out the remains of a candy bar he had hidden in his bag and handing me a piece before I had a chance to respond.
