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Book Excerpt
I saw him before
he saw me. It was cold, wet, winter, actually, and I’d come to campus without a
jacket or umbrella. He walked with a smoother stride than I ever had, up ahead
on the brick pathway leading to the dining hall. It was college, so I could
care less who saw me staring. There were too many people around for just one to
remember.
Looking down at my
sneakers, I followed the pathway, already embarrassed by the squishing sound I
knew they would make once I entered the classroom. It was the first day of
class since winter break. And even though I already had one semester under my
belt, it felt like a curse to still be considered a freshman.
I had finally
declared a major: Psychology. But once I learned of the experiments that we
would have to not only conduct, but participate in, my introverted nature began
to cringe. I was blatantly shy, and happily so, though the subtlest bit of
focus in my direction made my cheeks blush scarlet red. It tended to bring
attention to the sparsely scattered freckles at the apples of my cheeks and
along the bridge of my nose. They matched the dark brown hue of my hair and
eyes, no matter how finite the tiny dots seemed.
After sidestepping
a few mud puddles, I looked up, and he was gone. I felt a strange surge of
disappointment overwhelm me. Though I had lost nothing, it somehow felt that
way.
In a hurry to make
it to class on time, I skidded along the last section of the brick walkway leading
to the psychology department. As I fell to the slick ground, the $200 textbook,
that I had been nestling beneath my arms, slipped out from under them and came
crashing down, into a soupy puddle of mud.
“NO!” I yelled
aloud, devastated. All I could think about was that book.
Already on my
knees, I leaned over the wet pool of rainwater and picked the book up by the
edge of its front cover, because that was the only way I could manage to grasp
it. But the book was too heavy to lift by its front cover, so the hardbound
text slid from my fingers once again, returning to the puddle with a loud,
offensive splash that coated my face with dark, tepid rainwater.
“You need some
help?”
Just as I began to
wipe the water from my face, I looked up, and there he was. The same tall,
blonde, blue-eyed image of the perfect golden boy. He must have been a senior.
I could tell that much from the mature bone structure of his face. He certainly
didn’t look eighteen.
“No, I’m fine,” I
murmured. My cheeks should have turned scarlet by now, surely, if not for the
murky puddle drops on my face. Of all the days I had chosen not to bring an
umbrella.
“Freshman?” He
squatted down before me, balancing himself around the perimeter of the puddle.
“Yeah,” I
admitted, quickly averting my eyes from his.
He was dressed in
formal clothing: a pale blue button-down shirt and navy slacks. I imagined him
on the set of a fragrance commercial for Ralph Lauren, riding horses and
drinking champagne. I watched him curiously, when he unbuttoned the sleeve
around his right wrist and rolled the material up to his elbow.
He looked like he
had lived in California.
He looked like he
had been lifting very heavy weights.
He looked like he
had outgrown this place a long time ago.
So what was he
doing here?
Without a second’s
hesitation, he stuck his hand into the filthy water and grabbed my textbook. I
snapped out of my daydream, practically in a daze when he motioned for me to
follow him under the shelter that extended outward from the entrance to the psychology
building.
“Open your bag,”
he requested, pointing to the satchel over my shoulder. Once I did, he removed
a brand new psychology textbook from the backpack he was carrying and placed it
in my bag.
“What are you-?” I
stopped myself at the sight of him shaking out my filthy, wet textbook under
the dry shelter.
“You use mine, and
I’ll use yours,” he offered, cracking a crooked smile. I shook my head in
confusion, distracted by the crystal clear look of his blue eyes. They managed
to reflect the tiniest bit of light, despite the lack of sun.
“But I-”
“You could just
say thank you,” he boldly suggested. I wasn’t used to this.
“Thank you.” I
glanced down at the shiny new textbook in my bag, still in disbelief. He
smiled, then walked towards the entrance to the psychology department. “Wait,”
I called, relieved when he stopped and looked back at me. “You’re not a
freshman. Are you?”
“No,” he answered,
holding my gaze, “I’m not.”
“Well,” I stalled,
thinking of something else to say. I didn’t want the conversation to end. “Why
are you so dressed up?”
“I have a
presentation,” he said. His tone remained somber, professional even, despite
the slightest hint of a playful smirk at the corner of his mouth. I wondered
how often he looked at other girls like that.
“Oh,” was all I
could manage. I glanced down at his shiny black dress shoes, doubting that they
would squeak as loudly as my sneakers would once I entered the building. “Well,
good luck.” I gazed into his beautiful, clear, liquid blue eyes and admired the
seamlessly sculptured face around them, in case I should never see him again.
Surely, fate couldn’t be so cruel, after being so kind.
“You too,” he
replied, before opening the glass door and stepping inside.
Once the image of
him had vanished, I entered the building in search of a bathroom. Fortunately,
I was able to dry off in there with no one else gawking at me. All the stalls
were empty, and I was the only one at the sinks.
My first class was
on the fourth floor, so I headed upstairs in search of room 481. When I reached
that level, I found the classroom just around the corner, at the end of the
hallway. Anxious with the first-day-back jitters, I opened the door and hurried
inside. As the door slammed shut behind me, I noticed that I had come through the
front entrance of the classroom, which meant that over a hundred people were
now staring at me.
Thankfully, the
classroom floor was covered in dingy, gray carpet, so my shoes didn’t squeak as
I searched for a seat among the crowd. There were only three seats left in the
entire room, all of which were located on the front row, since that was the
last place most students wanted to sit on a voluntary basis. Satisfied enough,
I selected the seat in the middle and sat down between the only two chairs that
remained vacant. Maybe I wouldn’t have to make small talk with anyone this
semester, so long as the empty seats remained empty. Just as I removed the
textbook from my satchel and placed it on my desk, the thought vanished.
“Oh, did you get
the book already?” a candid, feminine voice wondered. I looked up to find that
the girl sitting to the left of the empty seat beside me had leaned over in
curiosity.
She had a small
face, green eyes, and a pile of light brown hair that she had pulled back into
a messy ponytail. The ends of her hair looked a little damp, not unlike the
collection of water spots on her t-shirt that appeared to be in the process of
drying. I assumed that she must have forgotten an umbrella as well and
immediately sought her ought as an ally.
“Yeah.” I smiled,
making my best attempt at polite conversation.
“Can I look at
it?”
“Sure.” I handed
the heavy book to her. It was a fifth edition clinical psychology textbook,
complete with diagrams and pull-out charts for studying.
“I heard it was
really expensive.” She flipped through the pages, briefly stopping when she
came across a full color picture of Sigmund Freud. “How much did you get it
for?”
“About two
hundred,” I replied, wondering if that was the actual price he had paid for it.
“That’s ridiculous,”
she huffed. “I’m not paying that!”
I forced a laugh,
only to be nice, really. Once our conversation ended, all was quiet again, so I
turned around in my chair to search the classroom for familiar faces. I did not
recognize a single soul.
When the door
clicked open, I looked back to watch another student enter the classroom. A
teenage boy with big glasses, dish water blonde tresses, and a sloppy posture
walked in and sat down in the empty seat to my right. He kept his gaze down to
avoid all eye contact, probably just as nervous as the rest of us were for the
new semester.
Just as the door
was about to swing shut, a dark shoe wedged its way through, catching the
bottom of the door before it could close. When the door opened, I widened my
eyes in surprise. I never would have dreamed that he would be standing in the
doorway. Cool and confident, the golden boy entered the classroom, gracing me
with his presence for the second time today. I immediately straightened up in
my chair, anxiously anticipating him. The only remaining seat was the one next
to mine, and I knew he would have to take it.
I cocked my head
to the side when his feet moved in an unexpected direction, and he set his
backpack down on the large desk at the front of the classroom. What was he
doing?
Noticing me in the
front row, he smiled in my direction, his blue eyes twinkling with delight.
Before I could comprehend what was going on, he opened his mouth and began.
“Hey guys,” he
greeted, waving a strong, manly hand in the air. “Welcome back. My name is
Cabel Jones, and I’ll be your instructor for this course. Any questions before
we get started today?”
Teaser
Author Info
Contact Links:
Twitter: @Lindsay_MMiller
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Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/LindsayMarieMiller
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