Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
Sam
Four Years Ago
" M r. Green, this is going to be on the exam."
If I had a dime for every time the professor has said these exact words to me, I'd be rich.
"I'm listening, Professor Perry," I assure him, my eyes focused on the girl next to me.
She was grinning and squirming in her seat a few moments ago, but now she's looking away, icing me out with her body language. Guess she doesn't like my attention when the professor is looking at us.
It doesn't matter. I already hit that weeks ago. I just wanted to know how she would react if I suddenly stopped ignoring her.
Eager for my attention, that's how.
And now she has the nerve to pretend like she wasn't just preening for me.
I can help her with that bad memory.
The kids around me start to gather their things as the lecture comes to a close, and over the noise, the professor calls, "Stay behind, Mr. Green. I'd like to have a word with you."
I slouch in my seat and clench my jaw. I'm sure I know what he wants to talk about. But before that, I pull out my phone and look for the picture I took of that girl and me when we were last together. She was naked and lying on her stomach, looking back at me over her shoulder. I crack a grin and send her the photo, captioned, "Remember this?"
"Mr. Green, over here, please."
I sigh as I stand up and head over to the professor's desk at the head of the lecture hall. He's an older black man with a round stomach. There's nothing about him that's too annoying, just that he takes his job too seriously and wastes my time with these little pep talks he likes to drag me into.
"Feeling confident about the exam, I take it?" he starts.
"I'm not worried about it, no."
"I don't deny you do well on the assignments, but you should take the lectures more seriously. You're a scholarship student, aren't you?"
I bristle at the mention. "My scholarship isn't in jeopardy," I reply shortly.
"Yes. But if you keep slacking off during my lectures, it will be."
"If I have any questions about the lecture, I'll be sure to let you know," I say, trying to cut this conversation short.
"And if you lose your scholarship because you can't be bothered to focus in class, what will your parents say?"
I stiffen. I want to tell him that my parents are dead, but that's just wishful thinking. They're very much alive, even if they're in prison. They have been for years. But I don't need him asking questions or pitying me.
"Maybe I can't get you to worry about your grades, but at least refrain from distracting the other students," Professor Perry continues.
"I will," I promise flatly. And I'm serious.
Can't be a nuisance to others if I'm not even in class.
He continues on for a while, talking my ear off, and by the time I leave the lecture hall, I'm annoyed. My phone is blowing up, but it's probably just the girl from class, either bitching me out for sending that picture or trying to set up a time and place to meet.
Either way, I'm not interested.
I ignore the buzzing phone and try to figure out what to do next. Class just got out for the morning, so in about two hours, I've got my first part-time job. The professor pissed me off, but maybe I was too hungry in the first place. Now that I think about it, I haven't eaten. Better take care of that while I have nothing better to do.
There are countless places to eat on campus, but I'm not feeling particular and would rather eat and ditch my bad mood as soon as possible. So I head over to the common cafeteria. It's bustling when I get there, and practically all the food is gone, save for a single muffin. The place is self-serve. Kids just walk right up to the merchandise—coffee and tea, baked goods, chilled drinks, whatever—and take their items to a checkout point, so I do the same, gunning for the muffin. I didn't feel how hungry I was until I saw it. As soon as I reach for it, though, my hand collides with a slender hand that beats me there.
"Excuse me!" the girl cries out, snatching her hand back.
I look her over from head to toe, letting her feel my gaze on every inch of her body. Now I'm hungry for something else.
She's a real cutie, a mixed girl with soft-looking light brown skin and a head of reddish brown curls messily piled into a bun on the top of her head. Her wide hazel eyes look up at me apologetically but soon cloud over once she notices me ogling her. I don't stop, either.
"Ahem." She clears her throat pointedly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to?—"
"That was my muffin, you know." I quickly grab it, then toss it in the air, leaning closer to her. I easily tower over her curvy frame. The girl has wide hips, and I bet she's hiding a plump ass.
"Your—" She closes her eyes and doesn't finish. She shakes her head and gestures for me to have it. "By all means."
"Did you want it? I can let you have it."
"No, that's okay." She brushes me off, looking over the other offerings.
"There's nothing else left, just this muffin. Unless you're on a liquid diet."
Perfectly timed, we both hear her stomach growl loudly. Her eyes widen again, this time in embarrassment, and she covers up her stomach. I raise my eyebrows at her.
"Sounds like you'd really like this muffin. I'll let you have it." I tilt it to her, and she eyes me warily.
"Are you sure? It's yours , after all."
From the way she punctuates the word with an arch of her brow, I know she knows she was the first one here.
"Yeah, take it." The second her fingers secure the muffin, I go on. "In exchange, I'll be taking your number."
The girl scoffs and rolls her eyes. Next, the muffin drops from her hand and bounces on the ground between us, coming to a rest against my shoe. Her eyes are on me the whole time. The smirk falls from my lips.
"Enjoy your muffin," she chirps brightly. Then she turns on her heel and stalks off.
I hear a few titters around me, but my eyes are glued to her back—her ass, rather. It's fat, alright.
But did she really just walk away from me?
The sour mood from before snakes its way back into my stomach, twisting the hunger into nausea. I feel a rush of emotion sizzle across my skin, and I rake a hand through my hair, suddenly irritated.
Who does she think she is? Just fucking leaving like that? When I'm giving her my attention? I can have any girl here I want.
Except that one , an inner mocking voice whispers to me.
I stomp off after her, ignoring the students watching me. I don't know what I'll do when I catch up to her—or if I'll even catch up—but I know I can't let her get away with that. She's cute and all, but something in me can't take this easily.
I'm the one who walks away.
When I exit the building, I don't see her anywhere. I scan the passing girls, but there aren't any curls anywhere.
Wait, there they are. Her puff of curls bob up and down as she walks away from the school's buildings. I follow her path, weaving between anyone who gets in my way, shrugging off their complaints. My eyes are glued to that head as I wonder where she's going. And far ahead, she steps off the paved paths and into the trees that surround the university, quickly disappearing into the forest beyond.
I stop and have a look around. No one is watching me. And I still don't know what I'll do with her once I get her alone. I didn't think it would be just the two of us, and it's not like I want to force myself on her.
What do I want to do?
What's clear is that I can't bear her rejection, not even for a second. It pisses me off so bad that my feet start moving on their own, again chasing after her. It must have been some instinct that stopped me because as soon as I step into the trees, I'm glad I waited. It's so quiet that she would have heard me coming and probably screamed for help.
I keep moving until a clearing starts to come into view. And there she is, sitting in the middle on a blanket spread out on the ground. I stay within the cover of the trees and just watch as she pulls out books and a laptop from her messenger bag. It looks like she's getting comfortable to study or work on something.
So she's one of those girls who keeps her nose buried in a book? I hold back a scoff. No wonder she rejected me.
But that's no excuse.
No, she needs to know who she rejected, who she had a chance with.
I keep watch, my plan of action slowly solidifying as the minutes tick by.
I bet all she knows is what's in those books, bet she lives in a little world of grades and extra credit.
I can make her understand what she passed up.
I feel myself grinning at the thought, and the snake in my belly slips away, appeased by the plan forming in my head. There's nothing more to do for now, so I go back the way I came, leaving her in the clearing.
But I know what to do now. I know why I came.
I need to show her the mistake she's made, make her come knocking on my door so I can open it.
Then slam it in her fucking face.