9. chapter nine
chapter nine
does she smile like that with me?
“ W ell, this has been fun, darlin, but I’m just dying to see who I’vebeen paired with, so if you don’t mind…”
Luckily, the girl in front of me, who had a blonde bob and way toomuch cleavage for a 9:00 AM class, didn’t pick up the sarcasm that lay beneath my accent, and shuffled to the side a second later.
She was one of the girls who interrupted my conversation withGoldie last night at the freshman event, and because the universe is just nuts about me at the minute, she also seemed to be taking this class. I didn’t know her name, but that didn’t stop me praying that it wasn’t written next to mine on the sheet that Professor Et… something, left out for us.
If there was any name that I was hoping would be sat next to mine,that belonged to the girl I could see leaning over the list of names right now. Her blonde hair was thrown up in a claw clip that looked like a bow, and the jeans and cardigan outfit she’s chosen this morning cast this effortless glow about her that made me want to exist around her for the rest of the day.
No attachments. Remember.
I ignored the voice in my head for a moment, watching Goldie as shestraightened her back and began walking back through the crowd. I was looking over the paper soon enough, and when I finally found my name and saw that another girls was next to it instead of hers, I couldn’t help but feel deflated.
From the few conversations we had, it was pointless trying to denythat there was something about her that drew me to her, like she had her own magnetic field that pulled you in regardless of what your beliefs were.And lying to myself was one of the things I wanted to change now that Iwas here, so I didn’t think about the repercussions of admitting that I wanted to be near her.
“Well well, well,” A familiar nasally voice said from beside me. “Lookslike this class just became my new favourite.” I twisted my head to find blonde bob girl hovering over my shoulder, her eyes raking over me and hanging on to the space on my neck where my tattoos always poked through my T-shirt. “And lucky for you, Harper, I know all the best study spots.”
Fan-fucking-tastic.
I eye her, but not in a good way. “I take it you’re…” I checked hername on the sheet again. “Becca Jetson?”
“I am,” she nodded, before grabbing my forearm and pulling me from the crowd, right beside the door. “Here,” she handed me her phone, or forced it in my hand more like. “Put your number in, and we’ll set up a date to start studying.”
From the way she said study spots , I reckoned studying was about as high on her agenda as sobriety was at a freshers' party. Not that I was itching to start on this presentation with her, mind you. In fact, if we were ranking ways humans could interact, studying was dead last, and tied for that last place spot was literally anything else.
Fancy a chat? Nah. Grab a coffee? Pass. Walk me into oncoming traffic? Tempting, but still no. I wanted absolutely fuck-all to do with her, and I sent up a silent prayer to whatever deity handles awkward social exits. Please, just take the hint.
Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m no saint. Never claimed to be. If I were, I wouldn’t be here in the first place, trying to scrape together a future I can stomach and a head that doesn’t feel like it’s been put through a blender. But the last thing I needed was to waste my time batting off every girl who fancied their chances. Not when I had priorities. Not when I was trying to keep my head down.
Messing around with the girl I’d been assigned to do a project withwould wreck every plan I had of staying in the shadows.
And this one? I could practically smell the drama coming off her.
“How about we just meet in the library?” I offered, handing back her phone. “Friday, at four?”
I watched as her smile fizzled out—that flirty glow she had abouther fading as she slid her phone back in her pocket.
“Sure.” She rushed, passing me a quick smile before spinning on herheels and slipping out of the room.
Giving my phone number to Becca wouldn't do me any favours. And I'd bet my life on the fact that half the city would have it by the end of the day. Couldn't imagine Cade being thrilled about that.
I gave it a few minutes before I left too, not wanting to bump intoher and have to go through all that again. When I deemed it clear to leave, I stepped out into the corridor, and before I could even make it a few paces from the exit, I spied Goldie at the end of the hallway, talking with a guy.
At first glance, I thought it was Finn, with the same golden blondhair and roughly the same height, but as I walked closer, I quickly realised I’d never seen this kid in my life. He looked like a six-foot version of the milky bar kid if we took in his check shirt and jeans, with circular glasses framing his face.
Instead of getting closer, I stopped and watched their conversationfrom a few paces away, leaning against the stone tracery. Her smile sparkled up at him as he talked to her, and just like Becca had done with me, the guy handed her his phone, and in a heartbeat, Goldie was typing away on his screen.
I felt something pull in my stomach as I watched her hand his phoneback to him, their hands grazing one another and laughing about the contact. I couldn’t tell what it was that was making my stomach feel like a fifty-ton weight had been dropped right in the centre, and I don’t think I wanted to know, as I traded the sight of them for the scuffed-up toes of my high tops.
I turn away to look at the gardens through the tracery, wondering why London never had leaves this orange and skies this clear in autumn, when I heard footsteps echoing behind me.
Before I could turn, she chirped, “Oh, hey.”
I spun to face her, a smile tugging at my lips before I could stop it. How could I not? Hers was so bright, so unapologetically happy, brimming with a kind of spirit I wish I had while trudging through these halls. It was like her energy was daring me not to crack a grin—and, well, I’m not that strong.
“Hi,” I croaked, closing my eyes for a moment to weaver the shame of my voice crack, before looking down at her again. “Happy with your presentation partner?”
Goldie nodded. “Yeah, heseems cool.” She said. “But by the look on your face when I saw you talking to the girl whose boobs were resting underneath her chin, I'm gonna take a wild guess and assume you’ll be going to Etoille and asking to trade?”
That didn’t sound like the worst idea, but I shrugged. “I’m sure it’llbe fine. So long as she keeps the cleavage and questions to a minimum, and isn't a pain in the arse, then we'll be right.”
Her face lit up. “Does Tristan Harper hate attention? Who would’ve guessed?”
I let a laugh leave me as I dropped my head, before getting lost in that stare. “Oh no, I love it. But only when it’s coming from the people I actually care about.”
I had a hard time trying to convince myself that that didn’t meanher. But like I said, I wasn’t allowed to lie to myself anymore.
“I get that. Luckily, I don’t think anyone, apart from you, has lookedat me for long enough to recognise me.”
I mimic her shocked expression, becoming deaf to the voices in myhead telling me to stop talking to her. “Does the queen of kids sitcoms hate attention too?” I laughed, even more so when a giggle slipped from her lips.
“Always have. Always will.” She says firmly, the words weaved between her soft smile, before she shakes her head. “And thankfully, I think I just get lost in the crowd here. Even Henry didn’t recognise me.” She said as she hiked a thumb over her shoulder.
I cocked my head to the side, letting a grin full of trouble—trouble that had no business showing itself—spread across my face like butter on toast. It shouldn’t have been there, I knew that. But self-control? Never met her. “The Milkybar Kid?” I asked, smirk growing wider, while doing absolutely bugger-all to hide it.
It spread into a full-on smile when I saw the way Goldie was tryingnot to laugh at the comparison. “That is cruel.” Her smile just kept growing. “He does not look like the Milkybar Kid.”
I laughed. “Oh, please, he might as well walk into class with a redneckerchief and a cowboy hat and hand them out.”
The laugh that left her as she threw back her head was probablythe best noise I’d ever heard in my life. It was soft, but held so much power, and echoed off the stone walls and travelled to each end of the hallway.
It sounded like proof that I was exactly where I was meant to be.
Suddenly I had words flying through my head, beginnings of amelody and parts of forgotten bridges that hadn’t had potential until she showed up. Like yesterday, when I was watching her raise her hand for every single question, I couldn’t help but think of the songs she’d inspire.
It wasn’t my typical kind of song either, not the kind with heavyelectric guitar solos and hidden metaphors. No, the songs coming to me now were understated, genuine, and softer. And I didn’t hate the sound of them.
Why didn't I hate the sound of them?
“Well, I better get going before I’m late… again,” Goldie said up tome as I laughs sank into the crack in the stone, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah,” I mumble, rubbing the back of my neck. “In a bit, Goldie.”
Her smile only made me smile, as she turned away andjoined the crowd. Although she was wrong, about getting lost in the crowd, she was the only one my eyes landed on.
.