Awa
Chapter eight
I say another silent prayer that I'm able to keep my wits about me during Noah and I's first study session, but I don't hold out much hope.
Books, romance movies, the law—those are my strengths.
Maintaining my composure with the cool new guy who, for whatever reason, is also extremely nice to the nerdy girl lacking in social skills? That's an impossible task.
But I can do the impossible, right? If I can convince the world's most overprotective parents to let me move halfway across the world for university and keep my major a secret, certainly I can string a few sentences together without making a fool of myself.
We'll simply stick to classwork, where it's safe.
Right then, Noah bursts through the doors of Leavey Library, and all the breath rushes from my lungs at once. I won't be safe. Nothing about this boy—this man!—is safe. I nearly swoon just looking at him!
He's wearing jeans slung low on his hips, an open flannel over a t-shirt for a band I've never heard of, and his backpack hangs off one shoulder; even the way he carries books is cool! Meanwhile, I'm strictly a two-strap girl.
And his hair! His hair is a little long, but not messy. A loose curl hangs down to rest on eyelashes most women would envy, and a rakish grin spreads across his face when he sees me. Never in my life have I inspired the type of smile he's giving me, and I squirm in my seat before catching myself.
You're here to study, Awa! Not ogle a man who's way out of your league.
I offer a shy wave as he makes his way to my table in the far corner, aware of the many eyes tracking his movement. His chair screeches as he pulls it out to sit, and he drops his bag on the table with a loud thud that has me looking apologetically at the people sitting nearby.
"Sorry!" he whispers as he takes out the books for our shared classes, a notebook, and a pen. "I'm not really a fan of libraries," he says, turning to me. "You have to be so quiet."
I clear my throat and open my own notebook.
"Should I book one of the private study rooms next time?" I offer. I might faint if I have to work so closely with someone so attractive. Alone. For hours. But I also hate to distract the other students.
He shrugs.
"Either that, or we could just pick one of our dorms next time. I really only come here to check out books and then take them back to my room." He fidgets in his seat. "The chairs aren't even comfortable!"
I release a laugh, relaxed by his casual demeanor.
"They're not supposed to be comfortable. If they were comfortable, you'd just fall asleep."
"You're probably right," he concedes, returning my smile, "though I think the fluorescent lights kill any chance of that." He gestures upward with his pen.
"Well, next time we can meet at my dorm," I suggest, my smile turning shy. "But if we end up asleep and my grades suffer, I'm blaming you."
He raises his hands in mock offense.
"Why would I want to mess with the grades of the top student in Entertainment Marketing? It's not like I want that honor for myself or anything."
I roll my eyes while pressing my lips together to contain a giggle at his antics.
"Like all villains, you just couldn't help but reveal your dastardly plan."
Noah quickly smacks his hand over his mouth to keep quiet, but his snort is unmistakable.
"You're funny, Awa Faye," he says admiringly, and now it's my turn to pretend to take offense.
"What? Just because I'm smart and driven, I can't also be funny?"
"Au contraire, mon ami," he replies. "Smart people are some of the funniest people I know."
His pronunciation is terrible, and I'm almost positive he's teasing, but I'm delighted, nonetheless. I'll also take any opportunity to speak French, especially when Maman's already scolded me for slipping into Franglais.
"Parlez-vous francais?!" I ask excitedly, earning another glare from the group two tables over. "Où avez-vous appris? C'est un plaisir de rencontrer une autre personne qui parle francais."
Noah's eyes widen almost comically.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! I'm sorry to tell you, but that's just an expression here. I don't really speak French."
When I quirk an eyebrow in response, he shakes his head ruefully.
"Oh, I see. You're busting my balls. Touché, Awa. Touché."
I break into a smirk then.
"You say you don't speak French, yet that too is a French word. You may as well take a class at this point."
His sigh is almost wistful.
"Alas, my course load is already overwhelming." He gestures to our Entertainment Marketing textbook. "Shall we start there, since we've already established you could practically teach the class?"
I nod, and we finally settle into studying after what felt suspiciously like…
flirting? The preposterous idea takes root even as I actively try to push it away.
What I think is flirting is likely the signature charm that has all the girls flustered.
It's possible he can't turn it off. That's fine with me.
I'll just consider it some much-needed practice with banter.
I open my binder to the notes from yesterday's class.
"OK. Why don't we start with the case study on Dove's 'Campaign for Real Beauty'?"
Noah stretches his arms above his head, and I hear a few vertebrae pop.
He's tall—tall enough to make me feel petite at five foot eight—and well-built.
The lines of his muscles are visible beneath his fitted t-shirt, speaking of hidden strength.
I wonder if he does one of those sports that gives you long muscles, like swimming or long-distance running.
"Are you OK?" he asks, jerking me from my reverie.
"Huh?" I sputter. I hastily collect my things to avoid eye contact. "Oh, yeah. I'm fine. But my eyes are starting to cross. We should call it a night."
He nods, putting away his books in between more neck and arm stretches. I don't risk checking him out again.
"Stiff?" I ask, and he's the one to choke this time.
"Uh, what?"
I motion to his neck.
"The stretching. Are you stiff? Before, you said the chairs were uncomfortable."
What looks like a blush creeps across his cheeks, but I must be mistaken.
"Oh, yeah," he stammers, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. "They really do a number on my back. You'd be open to studying in your dorm next time?"
"Of course," I reply, securing both straps of my own backpack. "I'll just make sure to have energy drinks or something."
He playfully nudges my shoulder with his.
"I doubt that'll be a problem with such good company."
He really needs to stop. I do my best not to react, to steady my breathing, but I'm a woman, after all. I can't withstand such direct compliments from someone like Noah Park.
In front of the building, we both hesitate. After an almost instantaneous rapport and hours of spirited conversation, it suddenly feels awkward. It's dark out, and only a few people scurry past along the dimly lit pathways.
"Do you want me to walk you home?" he asks, looking around the near-empty quad. "I'd feel better if I knew you got there safely."
"OK," I murmur, and head in the direction of my building. He trails behind me.
"Thanks again for agreeing to be my study partner. I understand the material well enough, but having a set time and someone to challenge me," he nudges my shoulder again, earning a smile, "really helps me stay focused. I'm the opposite of my brother."
"Which one?" I question. He chuckles in response.
"That feels like shade," he says with a sly grin. "Are you throwing shade, Awa?"
"Of course not," I tsk. "I'm actually jealous. I'm an only child, so I get 100% of my parents' focus. It's overwhelming at times."
He hums in acknowledgement.
"I could see that. And to answer your question, I meant Henry."
"He's your twin, right?"
"Older by six minutes," he grumbles. "He never lets me forget it."
"Are you really that different?" I push. "I mean, you're twins."
He scoffs.
"We shared a womb, and then a room growing up. That's about it. He's super uptight, super serious. I'm neither of those things."
"I don't know," I argue. "You clearly take your studies seriously; otherwise you wouldn't have reached out to make sure you don't fall behind.
You moved across the country, seemingly against your family's wishes, to pursue your dreams. That's pretty serious.
And if you grew up in the same house, you probably have similar values, even if they manifest in different ways. "
Noah shrugs, his body language noncommittal while the crinkle between his brows indicates I may have overstepped. We walk in silence until I can no longer take it.
"If I offended you—."
He waves me off before I can finish.
"Not at all," he assures me. "You've given me a lot to think about."
I come to a stop in front of my dorm, wishing we weren't ending on a sour note.
"Well," I jerk my head towards the building behind me. "This is me."
He stands beside me, facing the dorm.
"Webb Tower," he nods slightly. "Nice. That was my first choice, but they were all out of rooms by the time my transfer was finalized."
"Oh yeah? Where do they have you instead?"
"Troy Hall," he answers. His hands are in his pockets, and things feel awkward once more.
"I thought that was only for grad students," I say, puzzled.
"I think it usually is, but apparently it was the only dorm with space." He toes a loose stone at our feet. "It's nice. My roommates are pretty messy, though."
"I couldn't handle that," I reply. "Part of why Sybil and I work is because we both keep a tidy house."
"Now I'm jealous," he says. "It sounds like your place will be way nicer than mine for studying. Assuming you're down to skip the library?"
If the hopeful expression on his face didn't work, the memory of his full-body stretch would. I can't ask him to work in a space that requires a visit to the chiro afterwards. Besides, meeting at my place would be more convenient, and he wouldn't have to walk me home.
"Sure," I respond. His shoulders relax in obvious relief. I've never met someone so invested in school, yet so eager to avoid the library.
"Thursday? Seven o'clock again?"
When I bob my head in agreement, Noah smiles one last time before turning to go to his dorm.
Tonight was…nice. I expected to have a hard time staying on task, turning into a bumbling idiot around someone like him. Instead, it felt natural from the start. He put me at ease, and our work styles are aligned. This is looking like it's going to be the best year yet.