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Life wasn’t a competition, but if it was, I’d be losing.
“Ms. Asher?” The professor—I couldn’t remember his name for the life of me—raised an eyebrow, and I wasn’t sure if he’d asked me something or if he was just confirming my identity.
I took a wild guess since he hadn’t started class yet. “Yes. Present. Sorry. Please continue.”
A couple of girls down the row tittered with laughter. I hoped I hadn’t just doomed myself in this class. Old me might have considered the moment worth it if I garnered attention from the hot guy in the row behind me or the party girls sleeping in the back, but new me wasn’t about that life.
Luckily, the professor didn’t seem to give a crap. He shook his head and called another name, prompting a girl in the front row to shoot her hand in the air. Seriously? Who still raised their hand in college?
The guy sitting next to me wearing way too much body spray slid his phone in front of me. I glanced down at a picture of me hugging my brother during the draft last year. The camera guy had gotten a close up of my face, and I winced at my goofy smile.
Body spray guy leaned in to whisper, loudly, “That you?”
I nodded and shoved the phone back at him, hoping my resting bitch face and lack of eye contact would discourage him from invading my breathing space again. No such luck.
He let out a low whistle. “Nice. D’s a legend, and he’s killing it in New York.”
Before I could respond, he shifted the other way to talk, loudly, to the guy on the other side of him. “Told you, man. She’s D’s sister.”
The other guy eyed me up and down. “Hot.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. The gesture would be wasted since neither of them was looking at my face. Nothing like objectification to start my Monday right.
Body spray guy leaned closer again. “Why don’t you come party with us—”
“Gentlemen, you’re disrupting the class.” Professor something-or-other interrupted the worst pick up line I’d heard in a while.
The douchey friend crossed his arms, completely unconcerned. “Sorry, teach, but we got football royalty in here.”
This time I did roll my eyes. I knew the basic rules of the game, and I knew my brother was incredibly talented, but thus ended my interest in sports. Unfortunately, the sports world was interested in me.
Body spray guy nodded my direction. “Courtney here is D’s sister.”
“Chloe,” I muttered, though I probably should have saved my breath. The professor frowned and launched into a clearly prepared speech about expectations in the class, including paying attention during the lectures.
I’d been dreading the association with my all-around perfect brother, and the student body did not disappoint. Whispers and furtive looks surrounded me as the class realized I was related to Derrick Asher, football god and quarterback extraordinaire.
For a largeish university, the gossip was intense. I loved my brother—if anyone dared to talk shit about him, I’d be the first to throw down—but I’d chosen a small private college without a football team for this exact reason.
Too bad I screwed up enough for my parents to intervene and send me here where I’d have a “support system” to help. Parent speak for D’s friends watching every move I made to be sure I didn’t set anything else on fire. Literally or figuratively.
They never understood why I needed my own space where I wasn’t “D’s little sister”, and they sure as hell didn’t know the truth about why I’d suddenly applied to all new colleges at the end of my senior year of high school. My asshole ex, Vince. Come to think of it, body spray guy looked vaguely similar.
D knew about my ex because he’d cleaned up the mess, as usual, and I’d been happy to push my boundaries at every instance since in an effort to forget the way Vince fucked with my head. I winced. Probably not the healthiest coping mechanism considering I ended up exactly where I’d tried to avoid in the beginning.
A guy two seats down actually pulled out his phone to take a picture of me. I fluffed my hair and gave the asshole invading my privacy a sharp grin. Might as well make sure the pictures looked good.
I spent the rest of the class pointedly ignoring the people around me, especially body spray guy, until he mumbledbitchunder his breath. His friend laughed and so did the girls in front of him.
Awesome. I told myself I didn’t care what these people thought of me, but the squishy part in my chest suddenly ached for my stolen anonymity. At my last school, I’d gone too far in the opposite direction trying to make a name for myself. This time, I planned to figure out whatIwanted, not what would provide me the most separation from D’s brand of easy perfection.
The professor ended class early by assigning homework and encouraging us to enjoy the nice day. I snorted as I put away my unused laptop along with the syllabus he’d handed out. He seemed nice enough, smiling like he meant it, but I doubted I’d be enjoying the day.
The picture taken of me in class was already making the rounds on TU’s social media. I’d surreptitiously checked three-quarters of the way through class, and despite my brother no longer being a student here, speculation ran rampant about my reasons for transferring. My personal favorite was an accidental pregnancy from an affair with one of my professors.
I hoped I’d look this good pregnant one day.
None of D’s friends—my friends now, I guessed—chimed in. The guys and Riley were all at practice, and Eva was meeting with a professor. Probably for the best, since having D’s crew defend me would only feed the frenzy.
