His Fractured Girl (“HIS” #4)

Chapter 1

1

Sophie

Present Day

“ A s some of you may have already seen, your grades for your product design assignment have been posted online.” Oh, sweet. I hadn’t realized they were already up. “If you have any questions regarding the grade you received, please feel free to see my TA during office hours. We’ve provided comments in the notes section to explain the reason points were deducted, but if you would like more clarity, or disagree with our conclusion, please come by so we can help. My TA will be available immediately following class today, and again tomorrow.”

I’m positive I got a one hundred on the assignment. My design was so awesome. It was… an eighty?! I blink my eyes, making sure I’m seeing the number correctly on my screen. I got an eighty on it. But why? My logo was awesome. It matched the product perfectly. And I explained my concept in detail, making sure to hit every expectation that was listed on the grading rubric. But an eighty? That’s bullshit.

I scroll down to the comments section to read through the notes.

Pretty design, but not appropriate for a soda product. Although you met all the requirements for the assignment, this concept would not be successful. When creating a marketing package, you need to consider your entire audience, not just the female population. Men don’t typically buy things with flowers on them, nor are they drawn to pastel colors. Most people buy based on expectation of what the product will deliver. The selling points for a soda are taste, enjoyment benefit, and look of packaging to catch buyers’ attention.

When looking at your packaging, I have no idea how I would benefit from your brand. With flowers on the label, my first thought is that it tastes like flowers or dirt, in which case I would need to have a closer look to learn more, but I would never do that given the colors you have chosen. Remember, the main goal is to sell to the general population. You need to make people believe your soda is better than all the rest.

Really? He doesn’t understand that it’s an “organic drink,” made from natural plants and sugars. That’s why I put flowers on it, to show it’s a natural product made with organically grown ingredients. And the colors I chose are to make it stand out amongst the sea of brands that are already on the market. Instead of going with the standard spectrum of colors, I went with pastels. It’s different and unique, which will actually draw your eyes in to have a closer look. It makes perfect sense to me. I would buy this drink if I saw it on a shelf, because I would know right away that it’s organic and not made from chemicals. That’s what makes it stand out from all the rest. That’s what lets you know it’s the better product.

“Okay, class. Remember, your personal brand logo is due on Friday. The rubric has been posted online. If you have any questions about the assignment, email my TA. But please do not ask for an extension because one will not be granted no matter what the circumstances. This assignment was listed on the syllabus given to you at the beginning of the semester, so you’ve had plenty of time to plan accordingly. And just so you know, any assignment turned in after midnight on Friday will automatically lose twenty points. All right, class is dismissed. We’ll see you Thursday.”

I shove my stuff into my bag, trying to get out as fast as I can. I want to be the first one at the TA’s door, so I can get this cleared up right away. Apparently, the guy needs an introduction to the world of organic products because my concept was spot-on. And even if it isn’t perfect, I definitely deserve better than a B. It was barely even a B. An eighty is almost a C and that’s going to mess with my 4.0 GPA. I’m aiming for magna cum laude here. I can’t afford to get a B. And if I drop the class, it will put me behind on my prerequisites for next semester and then my entire schedule will be thrown off.

“Oops, I’m sorry,” I say, nearly colliding into someone as I go to reach for the door. I look up and the heat hits my cheeks . It’s him . It’s the one who always sits in the back corner of the room. The unfathomably gorgeous guy who constantly looks deep in concentration. He’s always typing away during class while staring up at the front of the room. It’s as if he’s taking down Professor Maxwell’s every word. Most of the other guys in class usually mess around on their phones so it’s nice to see that he’s actually interested in learning something, and not just scrolling through bikini babes on social media.

To be honest, I hadn’t expected him to be so tall or broad. His shoulders practically span two of me. The glances I’ve snuck when he wasn’t watching haven’t done him justice. His eyes are so much darker up close. They’re like the color of a midnight sky. And all the smooth lines of his face make him look like he was cut from stone. A brilliant artist’s work of sculpted perfection.

“Here, let me get the door for you.” He holds it open for me to pass, and the butterflies start to flutter in my stomach. He’s the first college guy I’ve met with manners. It almost seems like being chivalrous is a rare trait these days.

“Thanks.” I smile, feeling the blush in my cheeks as he smiles back. His dimples are completely disarming. It’s been a moment since I’ve felt a flutter in my stomach, but it’s definitely not a feeling I should give any stock to. He’s too good-looking, which is the first red flag. Guys like him are either taken or they like playing the field. Or both from my experience.

“You’re very welcome, pretty girl.” My stomach flutters even faster, and that’s my second warning sign. Smooth talkers willing to dish out compliments so easily aren’t trustworthy. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Sophie,” I answer, not wanting to be rude. Though, I probably should’ve made up a name.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sophie. I’m Travis.” He tips his head, giving me another one of his charming smiles, and the hairs on my arms are now raising like he’s just shocked me with static energy. It’s a feeling I don’t trust.

“Sorry, I have to run.” I turn to take off toward the business building, eager to put distance between us, but apparently, he’s going the same direction.

“So, where are you headed?” He falls in step with me.

“I have to go talk to the TA. He gave me a low grade on my assignment because he didn’t grasp my concept. I don’t think he’s all that clued in to organic products. Being a guy, he probably lives off beer and pizza. Sorry.” I look over, realizing my mistake. I just said all that out loud, not even paying attention to my present company. “No offense. I’m not talking about you. You don’t look like you live off pizza.”

My eyes scan down his frame. He definitely doesn’t look like he survives off junk food. He looks like he lives off protein shakes and sit-ups. There isn’t a shred of excess weight on his body.

“None taken.” He chuckles, and I realize I’m totally checking him out. “Personally, I’m a burger-and-fries kind of guy.”

Burgers are my favorite. But when I eat them, they go straight to my hips.

“So which product did you have?” he asks.

“The organic soda.” I turn toward the office building. “I put flowers on my packaging to represent the fact that it’s all natural and made from naturally grown ingredients. But he said that it made him think the drink would taste like dirt and he wouldn’t buy it.”

He holds the door to the business building open for me, and I’m beginning to wonder if he needs to speak with the TA too.

“I mean, stupid, right?” I pass through, thanking him again. “There are so many organically grown products that show the herbs and plants on the packaging, and they all sell.”

“Most of the products I’ve seen with flowers on them are soaps and lotions.” He continues to follow me down the hall. “But food products want to fit in with the crowd, right? Say for example, if I’m selling a package of organic cookies, I want people to think they taste as good as the real thing. I want people to associate them with junk food, but the bonus is they’re organic and healthier for you. Same goes for soda. No one wants to drink something they think will taste like medicine or something that came from the ground.”

“Wow. So, you’re in the same camp, huh? Team TA. And here I was thinking you were cute?” I honestly can’t believe I just said that out loud. I’m flirting with a complete stranger, who probably has a girlfriend. It was a stupid move on my part, but I can’t retract my words now.

“So, are you saying I’m no longer cute because I disagree with you?” His smile is splitting his cheeks again, and the flutter in my stomach is getting turbulent. He’s flirting back. But that’s not a sign of him being single. Nor is it a sign of him being a decent human being.

“Cute or not, you’re wrong.” Though, cute is a piddly word for a guy like him. “I think people who shop organic like knowing their food is all natural. They want to know it came from the earth and not associate it with a chemical plant. So, if I were looking for an organic soda, I’d want to know it was made from plants and flowers.” I look toward the hall, realizing I have no clue as to which room number I’m looking for. “By the way, do you know which room our TA is in?”

“It’s right here.” He stops in front of a closed office door. I guess he has a question too, but when he puts the key into the lock and turns the knob, it’s obvious my assumption was completely wrong.

Oh my God. He’s the TA. It’s him. And here I was going on and on, and he didn’t even stop me. God, I feel like such an idiot.

“How about you take a seat.” He holds the door open for me again. “And we can discuss this further.”

I stomp inside, feeling like I was just blindsided. “You tricked me!” I plop down into the chair, feeling like I’ve just been completely bamboozled.

“How so?” He closes the door and comes around to take a seat behind his desk, looking more like a teacher’s assistant as he steeples his fingers under his chin. So, that’s why he looks so studious. He’s been attending class to assist the professor. “I was merely carrying on a conversation with you. You were the one who assumed I was just another student.”

“Yeah, well, you could’ve told me who you were.” He just let me ramble on, embarrassing myself further.

“That would’ve spoiled the fun. I was enjoying your candid take on my grading, and your assumption on my beer gut.” He looks down at his flat stomach, which is no doubt rippled underneath his button-down shirt. “I also liked your smile.”

The butterflies try to take flight, but I quickly squash the feeling. He’s already deceived me, proving he can’t be trusted. And I’m positive there’s a girl in the picture. Maybe even a couple. An upperclassman with his looks…and that smile… There’s no way he’s single.

“Now, let’s look at your grade because I’m assuming that’s why you’re here.”

He turns toward his computer and pulls up my design. “This one, correct?” He shifts his screen so I can see.

“Yes.” I look at my pretty logo, still thinking it would make an amazing design for a soda can. “That soda would sell by the cases.” I would buy it. I’d buy it on color alone. The fact that it’s good for me would just be a bonus.

His head starts shaking as he looks back at the screen. “As pretty as it may be, it doesn’t sell the product. And that’s our job. To teach you how to sell products to the masses, not just to girls who like frilly-looking things.”

Frilly-looking things? How rude. I put a lot of thought into that design. I wanted to make something that would show exactly where it came from. I was trying to sell to the masses.

“Well, I thought I had done that. Clearly, I didn’t.” Though, I think his opinion is narrow-minded and I wholeheartedly disagree with him, but I’m gathering it’s a losing battle at this point. “Could you just tell me what I can do to pull up my grade? Is there going to be an extra credit opportunity? Or could I submit a second design?” Next time, I’ll paint the can black and write drink me or die on it. That will get people’s attention. Maybe put crossbones over a chemical symbol.

“An eighty is still a good grade, Sophie. When you said low, I was expecting for you to have gotten a D or an F. There were a lot of students who completely missed the mark. But your effort showed. It just wasn’t quite what we were looking for.”

He doesn’t understand. An eighty is like an F in my mind, especially if I’m striving for honors. “I’m trying to get a perfect GPA, Travis. An eighty will kill me right out of the gate.”

“Wow.” He shakes his head. “That’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself as a freshman, Sophie. You know college is supposed to be fun, right?”

Fun doesn’t get you into grad school. Fun doesn’t get you a decent job and pay the bills. Fun makes you drink too much and end up making the biggest mistake of your life. Fun is dangerous. But getting good grades and being able to rely on myself… Now, that is safe.

“I didn’t come here to party and get wasted.” I’ve vowed to never drink again. “I came here to get my degree so that I can get accepted to a top-tier grad school and can one day get the job of my dreams.”

His smile really is unnerving. It weakens my defenses, and after everything I’ve been through, I don’t like feeling weak.

“You don’t even want to have a little bit of fun?” He holds his fingers up in a pinch.

“Sure, I do.” I nod. I like to have fun with my roommate. Going to the movies. Having girls’ nights. Participating in cooking competitions with our toaster oven to see who can make the most gourmet dish for dinner. “But I also want good grades. Now, can you please just tell me what I need to do to fix this?”

It looks like he doesn’t even know what to make of my response. I guess I’m not the typical student, but I’m assuming he’s a typical guy, and that the way he’s looking at me is meant to make me believe that he actually cares. When in reality, the only thing he probably cares about is getting laid.

“I’ll have to get back to you on that. Professor Maxwell doesn’t usually give extra credit opportunities, so I’ll have to discuss it with him first. I’ll be able to let you know what he decides by next class.”

Really? That’s it. His stupid grade may actually stick, which means I’m either going to have to drop the class or figure out how to get one hundreds on every remaining assignment from here until the end of the semester—which is going to be impossible with this guy grading them. Awesome. Just awesome.

“Do you know when the last day to drop the class is?”

His brow creases. It doesn’t seem like he likes the idea. If he’s so concerned, he can change my grade. Or at least, give me another chance on the assignment.

“The deadline is next Friday. But why would you drop it? You have As on all the other assignments.”

“I want magna cum laude. And if there’s a chance that won’t happen, I’d rather have to repeat this class in the spring than ruin my opportunity.” Preferably with a different professor and a different TA.

“Why is it so important to you, Sophie?”

Did I not just give him an explanation?

Because I’m never going to be the prettiest, or the most popular, but I can be the smartest. And with smarts brings success. And success brings power. And power keeps the monsters away.

“It’s a goal I set for myself.” I shrug. “Thank you for your time.” I stand from the chair. “Once you let me know about Professor Maxwell’s decision, I’ll decide whether I need to drop the class or not.” I turn to walk out of the office, but his voice stops me at the door.

“What are you doing tonight, Sophie?”

The flutter in my stomach is a dangerous warning.

“Studying.” Working on my personal logo assignment so I can have him take a look at it before I turn it in for a grade on Friday. I definitely can’t afford another B, that’s for sure.

“I’m throwing a party tonight; would you want to come? Have a little fun this evening.”

Definitely not. Going to a party is the last thing I want to do.

“Sorry. I’m not a partying kind of gal. Besides, it’s a school night.”

He lets out a sigh, shaking his head. I’m not trying to be a curmudgeon. I’m trying to keep myself from falling into another trap.

“You need to loosen up and live a little. All that studying is going to cause wrinkles. What do you say? A few drinks, a little dancing, a good conversation with your ‘cute’ TA?”

Those dimples are tempting, but there’s no way I’m falling for his charms.

“Thanks for asking, but I’m going to pass. I’m sure there will be plenty of pretty girls there for you to dance with.” And converse with. And do all kinds of dirty things with. “I’ll be waiting for your email regarding my grade.”

I turn and walk out the door, feeling raw. A five-minute conversation and the past is at the forefront of my mind. The memories chasing me down as I rush back to my dorm.

“Uh-oh. What happened?” Torrin asks as soon as I enter the room. She’s all dressed up like she’s going out, and there’s a pile of clothes on her bed like she’s been trying on every outfit she owns.

“I received a shitty grade on my assignment and I’m not sure I’ll be able to pull it up.” I leave out the part of being asked out by the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen and how the lid has been taken off the pot of my memories.

“Aww, I’m sorry, Soph.” Torrin comes hobbling over in her heels to give me a hug. She truly is the sweetest girl I’ve ever met. Genuine and kind. And probably the most beautiful. “How about you come out with me tonight and have a little fun?” Fun . That seems to be the word of the day.

“Where are you going?” I look down at her tight little black dress and silver stilettos. Wherever she’s headed is fancy, which is not my scene. Plus, I’m not in the headspace for going out.

“My brother is throwing a party to celebrate the team and I’m going to crash it.”

And that sounds like trouble waiting to happen. Lukas doesn’t want her going to parties, and I doubt he wants his kid sister hanging around with all his friends. As soon as she walks in, he’s going to send her right on back home, and then tomorrow he’ll be stopping by to give her one of his bossy lectures.

“Won’t he get mad when he sees you there, Torre?”

She shrugs and turns back toward the mirror. “He’s going to have so many people there, he won’t even notice me in the crowd.”

My eyes shoot straight down to her skintight dress. There’s no way she won’t be noticed. Torrin is a knockout. Long legs, blonde hair, blue eyes. And in that dress…Lukas will know she’s there by the crowd of guys swarming around her.

“If you don’t want to be noticed, you should probably change. I don’t think a dress is appropriate for a football party.” Maybe for a fraternity formal or an evening gala. But a bunch of football players drinking? She’d be better off showing up in one of her brother’s jerseys and jeans.

“Ugh.” Her shoulders drop. “You’re right. See…” She turns and starts digging through the pile of clothes again. “I don’t even know what to wear to a party because I’m never allowed to go to them.”

“Here.” I walk over and pull out a pair of her jeans and a cute bodysuit matching the team colors. “Wear this with your tan ankle boots.”

“Thanks.” She smiles, giving me another hug. “So, does that mean you’ll go with me?”

Go with her? I just got done telling Travis I don’t do parties.

“Please? I don’t want to show up alone. And Lukas is always nicer to me when you’re around.”

I definitely don’t like the idea of her showing up alone either. Especially if she’s going to be drinking. Guys will be trying to take advantage, and her brother may be too busy hosting or locked in his room with a girl to even notice some guy forcing himself on her. She’s too nice and too pretty. And way too na?ve.

“Any chance I can convince you to stay in instead? We can have a dessert-making competition.” I know it’s a long shot, but it’s worth a try. But when she gives me her puppy dog eyes, my stomach drops.

“I’m dying to know what it’s like, Soph. And since it’s at my brother’s house, it feels like it will be safe.” Unless she stands by Lukas’s side all night, she’s not safe from anything. “You don’t have to come. But I really don’t want to go alone.”

“Okay,” I sigh. There’s no way I’m going to get her to change her mind, and I won’t let her go into a lion’s den alone. “But when the clock strikes midnight, we turn into pumpkins.”

“Deal!” She smiles, skipping back into the bathroom to change. Now, I need to figure out what I’m going to wear. I’d be fine in a ski mask and a snow parka so guys will leave me alone, but then Lukas will definitely know we’re there. I need an outfit that will help me blend in. And will keep the guys from staring at my chest.