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“Did you say something?” I grit out. My chin held high as I grind my teeth to keep from saying more.
“Yeah, I said you were a bitch. Ignoring a compliment. I was raised to say thank you when someone says something nice.”
Ah hell.
Sighing, I drop my shoulders and step forward. A small crowd surrounds us. I’m careful to leave a few feet of space between myself and the self-proclaimed man of manners but am still close enough to ensure he can hear my words.
“What exactly was the compliment? An unwelcome comment on my ass? The low whistle you offered just before. Or was it when you called me an ungrateful bitch? If you want a woman to say thank you, just hold the door open for her and keep the asshole comments to yourself.”
My friends are standing just behind the jerk himself and bark out laughs as they push their way through the door. Waving them off, I turn to my right and follow the path around campus. It’s the longer way to Gainsford Hall, but I need the time to cool down.
I drop my sunglasses down from where they rest on top of my head and take a long pull from my water bottle. Washington is known for its gloominess and rain and, while there are days that run together in a constant stream of drear, there are others like today. The sun is shining bright in the clear blue sky and spring is in full effect. People are out en masse, letting the sun’s rays fill their body with much needed vitamin D.
With my earbuds in, I move down the familiar pathways and across the streets that surround campus. Taking deep breaths, I force myself to relax, to release the irritation still coursing through my veins. What a jackass. How is it that in this day and age, people think it is okay to comment on a woman’s assets and then be rude when it isn’t appreciated. Sometimes I think society has lost all sense of civility.
Chapter 2
Sophia
“Miss Brooks, a moment.”
I stop in my tracks, causing a bit of a traffic jam as the other students file out of the class. While waiting for Professor Dillinger to speak, I tug my long dark hair from where it’s tangled in my backpack. I need to add a hair appointment to my to-do list.
“Yes, Professor?”
Looking every bit of his nickname, Professor Hottie, he slips off his tortoise shell glasses and leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. A smile graces his handsome face, which I sincerely return. He may be nice to look at, but Professor Dillinger is also an amazing instructor. I’ve enjoyed taking his creative writing class and the challenges we’ve faced this semester.
“Miss Brooks, I wanted to discuss your last submission.”
Shifting on my feet, I nervously slip a lock of hair behind my ear. I thought I kicked that paper’s ass. When I hit submit, I even celebrated with a victory dance. If he’s about to tell me I bombed, there may be tears. Big fat crocodile ones.
“Don’t look frightened. It was good. In fact, I wondered if you had considered expanding on the story. Perhaps as a short story you could submit to an agent.”
“An agent?” He nods. I laugh through a scoff. “I’m an Econ major, Professor, not a writer.”
My eyes follow him as he rises and takes a step forward, his hand gripping my elbow. “You’re very talented, Miss Brooks. Think about it.”
The room begins to fill with students for the next class. I don’t move as his words filter through my mind. When someone bumps into me, I realize I’ve been standing in the way and move quickly out of the class and into the hallway.
Stunned doesn’t begin to cover how I’m feeling as I stroll down the hall and out into the fresh air. Pushing aside the conversation that has me off-kilter, I walk in the direction of the library and enjoy the heat from the sun on my skin.
Hours later, as dusk turns to night, and the temperature begins to drop, I pick up my pace and tug my cardigan around my body. Although I prefer listening to music while I walk, I promised my parents I would never be distracted while out at night. I could point out that danger lurks in the daylight as well but I don’t. That would only raise their worry and it’s at an epic level already.
Leaves rustle in the breeze and a chill pricks my skin. I miss the sunshine from earlier. As I approach the street corner, a car pulls out of a parking lot. The music is loud as are its occupants. After they turn, I look both ways and cross to the other side. It’s then that I hear them. The faint sound of footsteps. Slipping my hand into the pocket of my sweater, my fingers grip the pepper spray. I veer to the left and stop at one of the safety stations. The bright blue light glows and gives off plenty of light so not to be standing in the dark. Using my left hand, I hover my finger over the escort button when I hear my name.
“Sophia! I can escort you.”
Rowdy. My racing heart slows a bit as I turn to face my friend. His uniform is a little snug around the middle and I can see the beads of sweat on his forehead like he’s been exerting himself.
“Rowdy, you scared me,” I comment with a smile. He looks down sheepishly. “I’m sure you have other things to do, I can call for an escort.” Once again, I lift my hand but he rests his own on my forearm. The touch startles me and I jump, the hand in my pocket coming out, the canister of pepper spray gripped firmly.
“Sorry, Sophia. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m actually on escort patrol tonight. I was going to replace a bulb at the safety stop near Bennington House,” he says. My eyes glance to his hand where he holds a light bulb.
Shoulders dropping, I release a breath and paste a smile on my face. I feel like a jerk. Maybe Morgan’s comment from earlier is still rattling around in my head. Rowdy has never given me a reason to believe he’s anything but kind and takes pride in his job.
“I’d love an escort; thanks, Rowdy.”
Slipping my hands back in my pockets, I tilt my head for my friend to follow me. It’s a short walk from where we met up and by the time we arrive at my door, I’m in stitches. His dad jokes are awful but he’s so serious they’re hilarious. The off-campus house I share with five others is lit up from the inside. Music wafts through the door and after a crazy afternoon I’m happy to be home.
