Chapter 8 #4
Alaric, the man from the greenhouse, is sitting at an isolated table back further down the path.
I smile to myself as I swing my bag over my shoulder and start in his direction.
When I get closer, I see that he’s writing in a notebook, maybe a journal of some sort, and he glances up at me over his glasses just as I reach the table.
“Is this seat taken?” I quip, gesturing to the bench across from him.
He raises an eyebrow, seemingly confused at first before recognition flickers across his features. The corner of his lips lifts in an almost-smile. “It’s all yours.”
Today, he’s wearing black slacks and a white button-down with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. It’s distracting, to say the least, when he closes the leather-bound journal before him and interlocks his fingers together in front of him, resting his hands on the book.
“How have your classes been so far?” he asks. Sunlight glints off his glasses as he pushes them up the bridge of his nose.
“Honestly, kind of stressful. Seems like I have a lot to learn. But I’m trying to keep things in perspective and remind myself that the alternative to being here is… not great.”
He nods. “I’m sure you’ll do well as long as you stay motivated.”
I’m about to go off about what a dick the Law and Ethics professor is before I remember that that’s a freshman class, and I haven’t told Alaric that I’m entirely new to magic. So instead, I ask, “How about you? How have your classes been?”
He looks at me for a few seconds with an unreadable expression before answering, “They’ve been alright. I’ve only had one so far today, and it was fairly standard.”
“Oh, cool, what class was that?”
“Plant Molecular Biology.”
“Damn, I think I’m scheduled to take that next year. Too bad I didn’t start here earlier; we could’ve been course buddies.”
He smiles at my ridiculous attempt at conversation. “Yeah, too bad. I’m sure we’ll see each other around, though.”
Just then, a group of four women walks by, and one whispers to the others as they all cast glances in our direction, giggling as they walk away.
It’s obvious they’re looking at the man across the table from me, and frankly, I don’t blame them.
He’s handsome in a way that borders on beautiful, almost ethereal, with his sharp features, an assessing expression, and intensely dark eyes.
The glasses paired with his thoughtful demeanor provide an air of intelligence that somehow makes him even more appealing.
If I wasn’t so desperate to make friends and avoid romantic interactions this semester, I’d be struggling to get two words out, let alone approach him.
But I’ve already convinced myself that a relationship would only serve to stress me out more.
Not to mention, he probably has women falling all over him.
“Looks like you’ve got some admirers,” I tease.
His gaze stays locked on me; he doesn’t even cast a glance in their direction. “Not interested.”
I snort. “Of course not. What exactly are you interested in, then?” I ask.
He raises an eyebrow, which makes me realize how that question sounds.
“Not regarding relationships,” I quickly correct. “I was just meaning in general, what kind of things you’re interested in. You know, hobbies and stuff. Besides plants.” Real smooth, Vivian.
Alaric chuckles at my awkward overcorrection. “Aside from plants? I enjoy reading, playing chess, generally anything that gets my mind working.”
“That makes sense.”
“Does it?” His tone indicates that he wants me to elaborate, but I don’t.
“Yep.”
“And how about you, Vivian? What are you interested in?” He leans in, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think his tone was almost flirtatious. My stomach swoops, but I ignore the physical reaction as much as I can.
“Umm…” The question stumps me, and before I can think about what I’m saying, I confess, “I’ve spent most of my life helping out my family, taking care of my brother who has a developmental disability and working to contribute to the family’s finances. So, that’s been most of my existence.”
“As noble and commendable as that is, I’m not asking about your usefulness in relation to others. I want to know about you. What do you enjoy solely for yourself? What do you dream about?”
His response catches me off guard, and I take a moment to answer. “Honestly, I don’t know. I guess I’m still trying to figure out who I am outside of all that.”
We fall into silence for a few long seconds as he scrutinizes me with curiosity, like I’m a puzzle for him to solve.
Then, he pulls out a pocket watch, checks it, and snaps it closed again, standing as he says, “It’s important to remember that your value does not lie in what you can provide for others. I look forward to witnessing your self-discovery this semester.”
“Um, thank you.”
“And on that note, I have to go. I have some things I need to prepare for. I hope the rest of your classes go well today, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Before I can ask if he’s suggesting we meet here again tomorrow, he’s striding away with his leather notebook tucked under his arm.