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At the café on its ground floor, I set out to review her list of courses and pick some, taking it far less seriously than I would have moments ago. I don’t have to make the right decision. I’m just testing the waters.
Once I’ve selected my requirements and electives, I print my schedule and head out. I take a seat on a slate bench in front of campus. It's lovely here, though the weather’s getting a little cooler. The manicured lawns are a little too perfect for my taste, but it's charming all the same, and the river runs through the middle of campus, under a beautiful white footbridge.
I might technically be in Thorn Falls, but it doesn't feel like it. I'm not familiar with this part of town, and the handsome white structures couldn't be more different from the poor west side or the excessive riverside. I could belong here.
At least, I think so until I walk into my Calculus class on Monday morning and spot him.
Or rather,them.
Camden's seated toward the back of the modern amphitheater—four or five rows from the top—preppier than usual in a white polo, but perfect as always. Rhys is at his right, and I’m sure Roman’s not far, but my attention goes straight to the beauty all but sprawled all over Camden.
She's breathtaking. The kind of woman no one wants to believe actually exists without an app filter or some photoshopping. Perfect figure, perfect skin, perfect flirty smile. Her dark curls are glossy and wild around her heart-shaped face.
She laughs at something Camden says, and I hear it all the way from the door.
I hadn't realized I'd stopped until someone clears their throat behind me.
"Sorry," I mutter, dragging my feet inside the room to let the flow of students in.
I take a seat right at the front, willing myself to keep my attention where it belongs: on the blackboard. I feel eyes burn at the back of my head, but I resist the instinct to glance back.
The professor storms in with a light, positive energy, and somehow manages to make Calculus almost fun. It doesn't hurt that the thirty-something, slender black man is rather easy on the eyes, too.
"Not to oversell myself, but without a strong understanding of this class? You're screwed in STEM, in econ, in the medical field. You need calculus for just about everything. I'm the most important man in your life if you value your future."
I grin.
Halfway through the lesson, I'm giving Professor Lake my full attention, ignoring the awareness demanding attention at the back of my skull. I'm likely paranoid. Camden's busy with his Barbie doll. He’s not paying attention to me.
When the bell finally rings, I pack my shit in record time and leg it out of the room as fast as I can, refusing to mope around like a jilted ex.
* * *
"Morgan!"Skylar's distinctive pitch calls when I walk out of the building at the end of the day.
I turn toward the sound, and spot her seated in a crowd that, to my frustration, include Camden and the Barbie.
Dammit.
I’ve done my very best to avoid them, even going as far as exiting the cafeteria when I saw them walking in earlier today—I had lunch at the café—but now I can't avoid them. At least not without being incredibly rude to Skylar. She was too nice this weekend for that option to sit well with me. Besides, I have to walk past them to get to the dorm.
I mutter a curse as I wave back to Skylar, hoping she lets me go without too much interaction.
"Sit with us!" my roommate invites me. "How was your first day?"
I fake my best smile, willing my gaze to remain fixed on her, and no one else. Never mind I can see Camden and the girl still glued to his side staring at me. "Great, but I have to get back. Drop my books off, you know." I force my lips to stay shut rather than mutter god knows what, curbing my tendency to ramble when I’m stressed.
Skylar's eyebrows crumple in concern. "You're not in pain, are you? Have you taken your meds this afternoon?"
She's so caring, I can't bring myself to cut the conversation as short as I'd like. "I'm fine. Just tired. I'll see you tonight?"
"Don't wait up—I have cheer practice and then we're going to dinner. You can join us if you'd like." Her grin broadens. "When you heal, you can even try out for the cheer team and help us motivate these handsome boys." She glances over her shoulder to some of the guys seated around her.
I take it as a cue to pay attention to the rest of the crowd, if only for a fleeting sweep. I don't recognize most of them, but from their builds and the letter jackets they all wear, I guess they're football players.
"Cheering isn't my thing."
"What is your thing?" the girl next to Camden asks, syrupy sweet, though I catch a note of derision.
