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“Hey, anytime you want to test the limitations of gravity with a strong, independent man, you know where to find me.” I shoot her a wink and get an eye roll in return.
“Did you really just describe yourself as anindependentman?”
“Sure did. Although I accept other adjectives as well. Panty-dropping sexy. Built to perfection. Irresistibly charming. Whichever you prefer.”
“Noticed you left incredibly modest off that list.” Lou shifts the books in her arms, and one topples out of the pile.
“Hey, even a mere mortal like myself understands we all have weaknesses. The trick is knowing what they are and using them to your advantage.” Noting the confusion on Lou’s face, I snatch the book off the ground and hold it out as proof.
“Take your inability to carry normal amounts, for instance. You managed to get the attentionandnumber of the best-looking freshman on campus.” Carefully placing the fallen book back on her pile, my lips tug into a smirk, “I’d say that’s using it to your advantage.”
A fiery glint lights up Lou’s eyes, and suddenly I can see all the different shades of grey swirling around her pupil. “Last time I checked, it wasyouwho offered to help yesterday and you gotmynumber while flirtingwith my number.”
Looking down at Lou’s slight frame, an unconventional beauty are the words that come to mind. Her nose is a touch on the small side, the placement of her misty eyes slightly too wide, and her bottom lip is a little too full for the top one. Yet there’s something inexplicably beautiful about the girl standing in front of me.
Maybe it’s her ability to ghost me.
“Exactly my point. Your weakness resulted in meputting in all the effort. A job well done Miss Trip.” My grin grows wider as Lou huffs, her irritation levels visibly climbing.
“Donotcall me that. And your inability to use logic in an argument leaves me with nothing else to say.” Spinning on her heel, she storms in the opposite direction.
Unable to help myself, I cup my hands around my mouth and make one last parting shot to her departing figure.
“Any chance you could give me your mom’s number?”
Lou
The nerve of that guy. I mean really.
Best-looking freshman on campus? Come on. So maybe the dark hair, emerald eyes, and dimples would place him in the top ten. Butbest?Please. The dimples are more annoying than anything.
Barely managing to keep the stack in my arms from toppling over, I hurry across campus, heading back to my dorm. I agreed to accompany Stella to the opening session of rush week this afternoon, and it’s not exactly something I'm looking forward to.
Rush week happens every fall with the goal to convince freshmen that the perfect university experience is one club membership away. Just like the movies, rush week gives socially awkward students like me the chance to try something new and potentially make lifelong friends in the process. Or so they say.
As of right now, the sheer thought of succumbing to Taber’s social marketing strategies is enough to make my stomach cramp up in knots. Joining a club means another first day full of new faces. It means my outsider status coming back to haunt me once again, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.
Dread pricks my skin as I consider the sickening possibility of Stella witnessing my inability to fit in anywhere. The friendship I’ve forged with my roommate in the last 48 hours has quickly become my most prized possession. It’s been three long years since I’ve had anyone to call my friend, so I can’t risk this one by following some freshman status quo.
Making up my mind that I will not, in fact, be joining any clubs this afternoon, I find I can breathe easily again. Crisis averted.
Uncomfortably shifting the books in my arms for the tenth time, I somehow manage not to drop a single one. I take a glance around, instantly slowing my hasty march to a brisk walk as the scenery around me takes a turn for the better.
Instead of walking through the winding hallways and past the school cafeteria, I decide to take a shortcut outside and cut directly to my residence building. It seems as though my shortcut has led me to a courtyard of some sort, as the concrete beneath my feet turns into cobblestones that follow an explosion of flora down the pretty path. Taber must have a garden club because the rows of vibrant, blooming flowers display a level of precision and care I have never seen before. Fall-coloured aspen trees line the edges of the path, creating a wall of seclusion from the busy bustle of the university. Stone benches jut out every few feet, and I spot a couple of them occupied by students reading.
It's so… peaceful. I love it.
Making a silent promise to myself to return to this slice of tranquility, I take one last look at the breathtaking flora, then quicken my pace to go meet my roommate.
“I can’t believe the two of you keep bumping into each other! I swear other than you, who I live with, so it doesn’t count, I haven’t seen any of my friends who live on campus.” Having filled Stella in on my box collision with Wes yesterday, she’s now up to date.
“Ya, well, every time I see Wes my personal belongings somehow find their way to the ground.” I solemnly shake my head, mentally cursing my inability to carry normal quantities like a normal person.
“You better be careful, Lou. If this guy is as sexy as you say he is, then the next personal item that falls to the ground may be your panties.” My jaw drops.
“Whoa, whoa,whoa. Let’s backtrack here: I most certainly did not call Wes sexy. I said he has dimples and knows how to use them. That’s it, that’s all. Definitely no sexy in that description.” I shudder in mock horror while Stella bursts out laughing.
“Honey, if a man has the confidence to not only use his dimples but use them effectively? That right there is the definition of sexy. Based on your description, Urban Dictionary probably has a picture of Wes next to the definition of sex appeal.” Stella claps her hands in glee while I focus on not blushing. Now I can’t stop picturing those stupid dimples and crap if they aren’t the teensiest bit sexy.
