Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
BLAIR
The excitement for the start of my journey at Blackwood hits when I open my eyes and notice the sun has yet to rise. I'm wide awake before my alarm gets the chance to go off, but I can't go back to bed with the anticipation coursing through my veins. Most students look forward to college because of the parties and wild times. Don't get me wrong, I fully plan to take advantage of everything Blackwood has to offer, both inside and outside of the lecture halls, but I have dreams and goals that surmount… extracurriculars. Staying focused will get me to where I need to be to continue my dad’s dream.
I lay staring at the ceiling, anxious yet thrilled for my first day. A few minutes go by before I pull my comforter back and decide to go for a run to burn off this restless energy. Once at my closet, I pull on a pair of black leggings and a baby pink long sleeve shirt before heading over to the bathroom. I brush my teeth and throw my hair up into a messy pony with some front pieces falling loose .
I head back to my bedroom and pull a pair of running shoes on. Tiptoeing down the hallway and through the kitchen, I quietly close the door shut behind me and lock it. Turning around, I see the sun beginning to rise, and breathe in the slight crisp to the air. It makes the perfect condition for running.
As I insert my headphones, my favorite playlist starts up. Friends by Chase Atlantic fills my ears and I begin to jog down the winding cobblestone pathways letting my racing thoughts and energy deplete with every hit of my soles against the stone. The path is dimly lit by the surrounding lamp posts, and rising sun.
I lose myself in my run until the feeling of being watched skirts down my body. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I halt to a stop. Aspen told me about some disappearances on campus recently, maybe it wasn't that smart to go out by myself this early. Glancing at my surroundings, there’s not a single person.
The university assured us they're doing everything they can to keep us out of harm’s way, but for some odd reason, I can’t shake this feeling. I inhale and exhale deeply, attempting to diffuse my anxiety. I switch to a brisk walk, that is until I feel a hole being burned into the side of my face. Looking over to my right, I see the culprit.
Sitting on the porch of a house somehow more imposing than mine, I see the captivating man I spilled my coffee on. Emmett Blackwood , as Aspen had clarified. He's sitting with his elbows on his knees staring at me with narrowed eyes, taking a slow drag of his cigarette. Ew . Remembering how much o f an asshole he was during our first encounter, I decide to slow down and give him some friendly advice.
“ Those will kill you, you know. Switch to gum.” I shout so he can hear me as I wrinkle my nose in disgust. If his arched brow is any indicator, he wasn't expecting me to say anything to him.
“ Not if your presence kills me first, baby.” He snaps.
“ I was just warning you. No need to be such a prick about it.” I retort. He uncurls from his spot on the porch, reminding me of just how tall he is, and saunters over to me. Like an idiot, I freeze as he stops so close to me, I can feel the puff of his breath on my face. It smells like mint and tobacco, delicious but deadly. Just as Aspen had warned.
He takes a part of my ponytail and curls it around his finger.
“ What's wrong? Are you worried about me, baby?” Emmett hums low. His husky voice causes heat to pool deep in my core, making my breath hitch. Absolutely not. I have to get out of here. I will not let my body betray me, regardless of how good looking he is.
I glare up at him, “ You’re delusional and I am not your baby.”
“ Whatever you say…” There's a slight pause as if he's waiting for me to tell him my name. Yeah , no. Not happening. I remain silent as I stare back into his dark and alluring eyes.
He waits a few seconds, and when he doesn’t get a response, he releases the strand of hair and steps backward. Giving me a small nod with a devilish smirk, he begins retreating toward his house. I don't dare linger for a moment longer . The front door shuts and in an instant, I’m sprinting back towards my house.
By the time I arrive at the house, the sun has risen and I'm certain the other girls have woken up. Walking inside, I kick off my shoes and hurry to my bathroom to take a shower. I need to rid myself of the sweat on my skin and the filthy thoughts in my mind.
Turning on the water, I wait for it to reach a temperature practically close to boiling. Steam permeates the room and I begin to undress. As I step into the shower, I hear footsteps outside of the door. Suspecting the other girls are awake, I commit to a quick shower. The water runs over my sweat-filled hair and I let out a small moan at the calming sensation it brings over me. My mind flickers back to seeing Emmett Blackwood on his front porch, smoking a cigarette and committing to an early death. Oh , the things I would do to be that cigarette, in between those soft, full li-
“ Blair ! Do you want to grab a coffee at Cozy Cup before class?!” Aspen yells from outside the door. My heart is racing from the shock of her unexpected yell but also from these unexpected feelings for Emmett . He’s nice to look at but that’s all. Those icy eyes hold no love, no warmth. I’d be crazy to even think about getting involved with him.
“ Yeah , I’ll be right out!” I yell back. Giving myself one last rinse, I shake out any thoughts, clearing my head of the compelling stranger.
Exiting the shower, I wrap myself in a fluffy white towel while wiping the mirror clean of fog. I feel cleaner, but unfortunately, it did nothing to rid me of any thoughts of him pepper ing the curves of my neck with kisses and hearing his warm, whiskey whispers in my ears.
Leaving my hair down to air dry, I pull on a pair of light washed jeans and a white crew neck tank top that cuts off right above my belly button, leaving some exposed skin. I put on a pair of tan sandals then apply some mascara on my eyelashes and a little lip gloss before grabbing my bag and heading downstairs to make our way to Cozy Cup .
Aspen and I arrive at Cozy Cup , pick up our orders, and head to class. We part ways and I anxiously find my way to my very first class at Blackwood , economics. Not the most exciting place to be first thing on Monday morning, but it’s for my future. It’s for my dad.
Growing up, I never experienced that feeling of passion or knowing my purpose. For some, it’s to teach or act. For others, it may be to serve the country or become president. The innate dream that people have once they’re old enough to walk or talk wasn’t present inside of me. That was until my dad passed and I had to step into his shoes overnight.
My dad, Michael Stirling , was a strong and smart businessman. He built his restaurant, Bub’s Grubs from scratch. Dad worked his ass off until he was able to start his own eatery. It was his dream to own an establishment where people came to enjoy life and good food all at once.
My parents were high school sweethearts, and mom always supported dad’s dreams. She stuck by his side and believed in him like no other. Soon after Bub’s Grubs came about, so did I . I grew up there. I’d known every staff member since I was in diapers. Being at the restaurant with my dad was my fav orite place to be. I enjoyed spending that quality time with my father.
Moments and memories flash through my mind of our precious time together before he got sick. I had just graduated from high school. After years of hard work, Bub’s was at its peak and dad was reaping the benefits. It was the night before Thanksgiving and dad had stayed behind at the restaurant to finish up some paperwork.
One of the dishwashers heard a loud thud and ran to dad’s office. Upon finding him on the floor, he called an ambulance and ran to alert the other employees. They had contacted my mother and we raced to the emergency room.
After my father was admitted, they ran test after test to figure out what had happened. His doctor relayed the devastating news, dad was diagnosed with cardiovascular cancer and we were able to start him on treatments the next week.
Treatments took such a toll on his body and his spirit. When he was diagnosed, he was given a timeline, six to ten months. Due to his condition, stress and work were automatically cut out of the picture. Mom was by his side day and night, watching the love of her life wither away.
That’s when I began working long hours to keep the restaurant above water. I hadn’t planned on going to college, but I had no training and no knowledge on how to run Bub’s on my own. Mom changed after his death, which was understandable. I did too. However , I couldn’t let his dream die. It was imperative to me to figure out how to run the business while mom got back on her feet. We had an agreement, she would take over for now and run Bub’s while I was in school, and after graduation, it would be mine .
Snapping back into reality, I make my way into the building. It has beautiful high ceilings and stunning paintings of Blackwood royalty. I venture down the hallways until coming to the lecture hall and pull open the double doors. I don’t want to seem too eager and sit in the front, so I settle for a seat in the middle section, closer to the aisle.
I'm not the first student here and more start to trickle in. The seats fill up quickly and an older man, seemingly in his late fifties, strides to the front of the room and starts to set his stuff up. The chattering of students dies down as he clears his throat, introduces himself as Professor Monroe , and begins the lecture.
Professor Monroe is diving deep into the conversation on different supply and demand processes when the doors to the lecture hall swing open loudly. All the students, including myself, turn to see who had the arrogance to show up an hour late, obnoxiously loud at that. I don't know whether to be shocked or not-so-surprised that it’s none other than Emmett who stands at the doorframe.
He doesn't so much as spare anyone a second glance as he takes a seat at the back of the room. The professor picks back up on the lecture as if nothing had just happened, like it was a regular occurrence.
If it wasn’t obvious enough that his last name was plastered all over the university, Aspen had informed me that Emmett is the son of Dean Blackwood . Guess when daddy runs the school, you really can do as you please. If that was any ot her student or myself, we would have gotten kicked out of class and maybe Blackwood as a whole. I let out a scoff that warrants glances from my fellow classmates.
I continue to listen to Professor Monroe for another ten minutes, but the entire time I have this unsettling feeling that I’m being watched.
Turning around to look at Emmett , I find him staring right at me with his chin resting in his palm. He wiggles the fingers on his free hand, in a small wave and I roll my eyes before facing the front of the room again. More time goes by and out of curiosity, I peek back at Emmett again. He’s in the same exact position, the heat from his eyes practically burning holes into the back of my head. Annoyed , I pull out my phone underneath the desk and pull up Aspen’s contact to send her a text.
Me: Guess who’s in my class…
Aspen: Omg, who?
Me: That Emmett guy. I don’t know what his problem is but he keeps staring at me.
Aspen: At least he’s hot lol. Want me to stab him?
Me: No murder, just distractions. Please.
Aspen: I guess I can do that instead. Party this Friday? Drinking and dancing, it’ll be fun!
Me: Yes, that sounds perfect. ??
Pocketing my phone, I let out a deep sigh. A night with my new roomie and some drinks might just be what I need to wash my worries away.