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“A History of Harridan House.” She rolls her eyes. “It was gripping.”
A chuckle passes my lips. “Yes, sounds engrossing.”
A few seconds too late, Landon barks an exaggeratedly loud laugh.
I gesture for Lex to head into the classroom. “Ladies first.”
She smiles again and turns toward the door, and I punch Landon even harder in the ribs. “Dude, what the fuck?” I hiss under my breath. “You’re acting completely insane!”
Landon winces from the punch and drags his hands over his face. “I knooooooow! But it’s like I can’t help myself. My heart is beating a mile a minute and I just feel giddy around her. I’m like a kid at freaking Disney World. I don’t know what to do with myself.”
We walk into the classroom slowly and follow Lex up to an empty row of seats in the lecture hall.
“Well, you’d better figure it out quick. Got it?”
He nods and takes the seat to Lex’s left while I claim the one to the right.
She busies herself with getting a notebook and pen out of her small backpack, and Landon and I quickly do the same, although I don’t expect to be taking many notes. More students filter in, and I catch many pairs of eyes landing on Lex with curiosity. Fortunately, no one we’re worried about is in this class, so we won’t have to fend off any attacks for this hour.
The next class, however…
I’m just leaning over to ask Lex about LA when the professor walks in, throws his briefcase on the front table with a bang, and shouts, “Welcome to Intro to American History. I’m sure you alllovethe early Monday class as much as I do, so as long as we respect each other’s time and caffeine addictions, I think we’ll get along just fine. Agreed?”
A tittering laugh runs through the room and the professor raises his travel mug in salute.
I settle back in my seat and prepare for a history lecture from a prof who obviously thinks he’s a ‘cool teacher.’
This is going to be a long hour.
ChapterEight
Layla
* * *
I admit, it’s nice walking into the building and being greeted as if I have actual friends on the first day of class. I was so nervous that it would be like starting high school. I almost bailed completely, then settled for spending an hour selecting my outfit.
Starting freshman year as a foster kid when my parents had just died was about as close to hell as it gets. We never had a lot of money growing up, but I at least got new school clothes when my parents were alive. Not only did that not happen, but I went through a growth spurt that summer and most of my clothes were embarrassingly short or tight. My curves came in from nowhere and suddenly nerdy, nose-in-a-book Layla became labeled a slut over night.
Now I have more clothes than I could have fathomed a year ago. After the excruciating selection process, I’m relieved to walk into the school and see most of the girls are dressed somewhat similar to me in distressed, straight-legged jeans and cropped sweaters. People glance at me curiously, but no one is openly hostile, which definitely helps my confidence.
Then I hear Landon’s voice and see him waving both arms at me, smiling brightly. My heart skips a beat—even in a basic sweater and jeans combo, he’s distractingly hot with those piercing eyes and full lips. Something about his height makes me want to run and jump into his arms just to see if he’d catch me.
Of course, Milo is beside him, his wardrobe even sharper. I’m starting to think Milo has a bit of a hipster style, and I’m kind of digging it as I approach. He’s wearing khakis, but they’re slim fit and cuffed casually at the ankle, displaying black shoes that match his black v-neck t-shirt. Several necklaces dangle on his chest at varying lengths; interesting, industrial-looking metal pieces strung on strips of dark brown leather. I wonder if they have any meaning or he just thinks they look cool.
They greet me and we exchange a few words, although I barely pay attention. I’m too nervous, there’s so many firsts to keep track of today and I don’t want to screw up. First day at a new school, first day of college, first class,first class with incredibly hot friends that make my skin tingle…
Eventually we go inside and claim seats, and I do my best to copy down notes even though I’m hopelessly distracted by the two of them. A cloud of their combined fragrance envelopes me; Milo has a woodsy cedar scent, and Landon’s is lighter, more citrusy. The two scents don’t clash, and in fact smell quite pleasant together.
Besides their scent, I feel like their eyes are on me constantly. I never catch them looking, but energy ripples across my skin, the hairs on my neck rising repeatedly. At one point, I swear Landon leans over and just takes a long breath, as if he’ssmelling me.
By the end of class, I still haven’t decided if I’m flattered or disturbed by the attention.
Either way, I’m grateful that I’m not alone.
“Well, I dunno about you guys, but that’s definitely going to be something I’m looking forward to, first thing in the morning, three days a week,” Milo mutters as we file out of class.
“You don’t like history?” I glance up at him curiously.
