“That’d be great.”
There was a pause. Nick considered turning back around before the professor inevitably noticed them talking. But that seemed rude, and he had a sneaking suspicion Angela and Minho hadn’t introduced themselves out of politeness.
He checked that Jessica was still occupied at the front of the class before eyeing them. “Was there something else?”
Angela and Minho exchanged a look.
“We hate to ask,” Minho said, not sounding like he hated it at all, “but you’re the new transfer student, right? Some guys in Powell Hall were talking about you.”
Sigh. “Yeah, that’s me.”
“Mind if we get to know you a little? No one seems to know anything about you.”
Nick swallowed. “‘We’? Are you two a couple?” He was asking half out of interest and half in the hopes that he could stall.
Angela and Minho exchanged another look and then chuckled.
“Uh, no,” she answered. “We’re what you might call partners in crime. Now, about those questions.” Angela pursed her lip-gloss shiny mouth. “Is it true you were kicked out of your last college?”
Nick was so shocked, he couldn’t think of anything to say but the truth. “What? No. Of course not.” At the last second, he remembered to keep his voice down.
“We figured that wasn’t the case,” Minho said. “There’s also a rumor going around that you’re in Witness Protection.” Minho screwed his face up into an exaggerated suspicious expression. “Is Nick your real name?”
At that, Nick had to laugh. “Whoever came up with that has been watching too many movies.”
“That’s for sure.” Angela’s smile was back. “Sorry about this. A lot of the people around here act like they’re still in high school. They don’t have enough to do, you know?”
Must be a rich-person thing. At my old school, I was so busy working two part-time jobs to pay for books and board, I didn’t have time to make up stories about strangers. Not that I’m bitter or anything.
“I guess,” he said aloud. “What else is everyone saying?”
“Not all that much.” Minho shrugged. “Though I did hear that you had a steamy encounter with Sebastian Prinsen.”
“Who?” Nick didn’t recognize that name. It definitely wasn’t one of the administrators he’d met that morning.
To his surprise, Angela’s brown eyes grew wide. “Wow, you must be new to not know who Sebastian Prinsen is. He’s famous around here. Or infamous, more like it.”
“And not just because he’s gorgeous,” Minho said. “He’s a huge flirt and a total heartbreaker. He and I have a bit of a past.”
Nick looked between them, gears turning in his head.
That must be Gray Eyes. He’s the only other person I met this morning, besides Deen.
“I might know him.” Nick scratched the side of his face. “Is he kinda tall? Brown hair, and, uh”—stunning, beautiful, captivating—“gray eyes?”
“That’s him,” Angela said. “You scared me there for a second. Everyone knows Sebastian. Though some people say his eyes are blue.”
Bullshit. They’re definitely gray. He must be popular if people discuss his eye color.
“Yeah, I met him this morning.” Nick narrowed his eyes. “How could anyone know that, though? It happened less than an hour ago.”
“Honestly? We saw you two together on our way here.” Minho shrugged. “Sorry for not saying that in the first place. We didn’t want to sound creepy, and we weren’t sure if it was you or not.”
Nick was increasingly wary of Minho’s use of we. Nick wanted a lawyer present before he answered any more questions.
He asked one of his own. “Why do you care? Are you friends of his?”
“Definitely not,” Minho muttered. “Like I said, Sebastian and I have history.”
“What kind?” Were they enemies? Or worse, lovers? Jealousy swept through Nick, surprising him.
“Nothing textbook worthy, I swear. More like a footnote.” Minho eyed him. “Why? Did he mention me?”
Angela elbowed him. “Ignore my nosy friend here. We went to high school with Sebastian, but beyond that we don’t really know him.”
“Lucky you.” So far, he’s been nothing but confusing.
Angela frowned. “Not at all. He’s supposed to be quite the charmer. He was valedictorian of our high school. He paints—really well too; he’s won awards and shit—he speaks French and plays piano. Oh, and he throws killer parties. Getting invited is a big deal. Plus, there’s the whole heartbreaker thing Minho mentioned. Though that’s earned him some enemies.”
Nick’s mind whirred as it processed all this new information. I’m starting to understand why he thought he could touch me without asking for permission. He’s used to people fawning over him. Well, if he thinks he can toy with me, he’s got another thing coming.
At the front of the classroom, Jessica turned another page on the syllabus and looked out over the students. Nick wrenched his torso forward and fixed what he hoped was a look of polite interest on his face. She didn’t even glance his way before she turned back to the board.
I should pay attention. I know we’re only going over the outline for the semester, but still. This isn’t the way to start a new year. Then again, this is a chance to make some friends, and they’re fellow physics majors.
Nick waited for the professor to become occupied again before turning back around. “I have a sensitive question for you two.”
“We love sensitive questions.” Minho winked.
“Awesome. So, when you say Sebastian is a heartbreaker, what exactly do you mean? Is it like a John Tucker Must Die situation, and he has a bunch of girlfriends at the same time?”
What Nick really wanted to ask was if Sebastian made a habit of stroking random guys’ lips, but that was too specific. They’d know he was talking from experience. And it’d be more gossip, the very thing Nick had rolled his eyes at earlier.
Angela and Minho both fell quiet, and for a moment, Nick thought he’d fucked up somehow.
But then Minho eyed him with increased curiosity. “You seem cool, so I’ll let you in on a little secret. The Academy is more secular than it seems, or at least, the student body is.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we’re not all good little Catholic boys and girls,” Angela said, her smile sharp as broken glass. “A lot of the new students come here expecting it to be a snooze, but there’s a lot of intrigue. Through six degrees of separation, pretty much everyone has slept with everyone else, and there’s a thriving gay population, including Sebastian Prinsen.”
Confirmed. Sebastian’s into men. I kind of figured that from earlier, but it’s good to know for sure.
Nick did his best to feign surprise. “Are there students who are out?” Could that be why I was so drawn to Sebastian? I always ended up with queer friends, long before I knew I was bisexual.
“A few, yeah. Sebastian and one of his good friends are among their number.”
I wonder if she means the redhead or the handsome guy.
“You don’t look all that surprised, Nick,” Minho said. “What did you and Sebastian talk about when we saw you together earlier?”
“Yeah, was he nice to you?” Angela edged closer. “Did he try to seduce you? You can’t trust him, you know. He’s a total user who never dates anyone seriously. He’s slept with every queer boy in the city.”
Minho nudged her. “Hey now, slut shame much?”
“Sorry.”
But Nick was no longer listening. He was replaying his meeting with Sebastian again, only now it had a whole new light. Nick had encountered plenty of dudes at his old college who were only interested in hooking up. He didn’t judge, but casual sex wasn’t his speed. If Sebastian thought he could nail the new kid, he had another thing coming.
“Don’t leave us hanging,” Minho urged. “What did Sebastian say?”
Nick got the distinct impression that anyth
ing he told these two would be all over the university by the end of the day. He needed to take evasive action.
“He didn’t say much of anything.” Not a lie. “Didn’t even tell me his name, which is why I didn’t recognize it when you brought him up.” Also not a lie. “He asked me some questions about myself, like you two are right now.”
So there.
Minho made a sour face. “Is that all? Man, that’s so tame. Oh well. It’s only the first day. Give Sebastian time, and he’ll do something to make a splash.”
They both chuckled, but Nick didn’t get the joke. This Sebastian guy sounds like he’s either reckless or in major need of attention. Possibly both.
“So, Nick,” Angela said, “now that that’s out of the way, let’s hear more about you. Do you live on campus? Where are you from?”
Nick didn’t see any harm in answering such innocuous questions—so long as he kept everything vague—and so he did. He even asked a few of his own and got to know Angela and Minho better.
By the time Professor Jessica had finished going over the syllabus, he felt silly for questioning his classmates’ motives. They seemed like nice enough people, albeit somewhat nosy. But then, who wouldn’t be curious about the new fish in what Nick now realized was a miniscule pond.
The professor dismissed them early, which was all the same to Nick, considering he’d heard a grand total of twelve words she’d said. Angela and Minho walked Nick outside, and then they parted ways.
All in all, Nick’s first class had been a social success, if not an academic one. He might have a normal school year after all.
“So, what do you think?”
Dante, who had been chewing absently on the end of his pencil, came screeching back to the present. He focused on the man sitting across from him at a tiny table in the campus bookstore’s coffee shop. “Sorry, Theo. What was that?”
“Our theater class. Think you’re gonna drop it? I know it’s more my bag than yours.”
“Oh. No, I like it,” Dante lied. “It’s very . . . animated. Plus, it’ll be nice having a class together again, and I need more gen. ed. credits.”
“Uh-huh. I’m sure getting to see me in dorky costumes has nothing to do with it.” Theo smiled, bright and beautiful.
Dante’s pulse went into overdrive. The bookstore was silent around them; he was convinced the handful of students wandering the shelves could hear his heart pounding away.
“Is something on your mind?” Theo closed the textbook in front of him and leaned back in his chair, stretching his long, pale arms above his head. “You’re distracted, and it usually takes a full week for you to stop paying attention to coursework.”
“Heh. You got me. I was thinking about earlier.” He looked out one of the nearby floor-to-ceiling windows. Late-afternoon light streamed through, warming the old hardwood floor beneath their feet. The sun hadn’t started to set yet, but the light was quickly turning from the icy white of noon to warm, burnished gold.
Theo’s lips quirked up. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Lunch with Sebastian. When he was telling us about the new kid. Did that seem strange to you?”
“You mean when he proposed we dredge up our juvenile who-can-get-a-kiss-first bet? Yeah, that seemed pretty strange to me.”
“Not just that—although, that was plenty unexpected. I more meant, did you notice Sebastian’s face when he was talking about Nick?”
Theo scrunched his mouth to the side in thought. “Sort of. I guess he looked kinda excited?”
“Not just excited. His eyes deadass lit up. You ever see him look like that when talking about a boy before?”
“No. I don’t want to read too much into it, though. Nick’s a shiny new toy who happened to catch Seb’s eye. He doesn’t even know the guy. He’ll lose interest before long.”
“Maybe.” Dante picked up his pen and stared at his open notebook, which was supposed to be full of notes by now. As he gathered the nerve to say what he wanted, he swallowed. “About the bet . . . I wanted to let you know, for the record, that I don’t want to participate.” He peeked up.
Theo’s expression was unreadable as always, but there was a glint of something in his eyes. “Because it’s childish and mean, right?”
“Right.”
Liar.
“Well”—Theo met his gaze—“if it helps, I don’t want to participate either. For personal reasons.”
Something unspoken passed between them. Dante wanted so badly to address it, but after dancing around it for so long, could he really come out and say it? Besides, Theo was one of his oldest friends, and his best friend. What if— If they—
He couldn’t think it.
Silence fell between them, and Dante dared to hope it was loaded. He mustered up the confidence he was so good at layering on around everyone but Theo. “What should we do, then? Tell Seb the bet’s off?”
“I actually think we should play along.” Theo stared off into space. “For now, at least.”
“Why?”
“I have a feeling about something. It’s too early to say now, but in the next week, it should become obvious, one way or another.”
Dante frowned. “Mysterious much? I’ll bite, though. For all we know, Seb’s going to win the bet before the week’s out. Nick was definitely staring at him.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that.” Theo twiddled a pen between his slender fingers. “Sebastian isn’t the only one who has a lead in this bet.”
“Hm?”
“You know how I requested to live in the dorms this year?”
Dante’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you’re—”
“Yup, I’m a resident of Powell Hall, and I’ve been reliably informed Nick is as well. The real bet should be how long it’ll take me to ‘accidentally’ bump into him.”
“Huh.” Dante leaned back in his chair, grinning as well. “Then let the games begin.”
After the longest first day of classes in history, Nick went back to his dorm and slept for what felt like five years. He didn’t even rouse for dinner. When he woke in the morning, he was greeted by the sight of Deen’s empty bed. Deen had mentioned he had a few early-morning classes and had followed it with an enthusiastic plea for Nick to kill him.
Damn. I’ll have to eat breakfast by myself.
The idea was daunting, considering he wasn’t yet drowning in new friends he could sit with. That, and the last time he’d gone to the dining hall, he’d run into Sebastian. He wasn’t keen to see him again after their beguiling first meeting.
But Nick couldn’t very well avoid the dining hall. He’d have to cross his fingers and hope for the best.
He took a quick shower, threw on clean clothes, and grabbed his messenger bag. It was a lot heavier than it’d been the day before, thanks to online shopping and same-day shipping. Having money was the best. He now had all of the supplies he needed and most of the required textbooks. He was still waiting on a few that would have cost more than a new textbook to have overnighted.
Despite his earlier concerns, Nick’s trip to the dining hall was uneventful. No one so much as looked at him. It was the closest he’d come to feeling normal since he’d arrived at the Academy. Once inside, he loaded up a to-go box with eggs, bacon, and toast and got the hell out before he could tempt his luck.
After, he found himself at a loss for what to do. He had another round of new classes to attend that day, but his first one didn’t start until ten. That gave him over an hour to eat and find the right building, and he could spend it anywhere.
For a second, he considered heading back to his dorm, but he quickly discarded that idea. He wasn’t going to be that friendless loser who ate by themselves in their room. There were benches and tables all over campus. Hell, he’d seen a couple of comfy-looking rock outcroppings too. He’d find one and go over the syllabus from his Principles of Physics class, since he’d missed yesterday’s explanation of it.
A taunting voice sounded from
the back of his head: There’s always the picnic table behind the dining hall. You know that one well.
He grimaced and marched off in the opposite direction, as if he could distance himself from the memory. Not that it was a bad memory, per se. But it was confusing, and he needed to concentrate. He couldn’t afford to get distracted this early in the semester. He had to perform well, or he’d be out faster than a day-old meme.
Plus, if what Angela and Minho had told him was true, Sebastian wasn’t the sort of boy Nick wanted to get involved with. Not after everything he’d been through. Not when he had so much else going on.
You say that, said the voice in his head, and yet you can’t stop thinking about him.
He visualized putting a muzzle on his own thoughts. He wasn’t going to lose another day of productivity. From here on out, he was all business, no pleasure.
He spotted an unoccupied table by the science building, right next to some aromatic flowering vines. Jasmine? He was pretty sure that was what the white, star-shaped flowers dotting the curly vines were, but he was no expert. Whatever they were, they smelled heavenly and lifted his bleak mood.
After tossing his bag onto the table, he took a seat and flipped open the lid of his to-go box. Inside, a plastic fork and a mountain of cheesy eggs awaited him. With one hand, he shoved food into his mouth. With the other, he dug around in his bag until he found the aforementioned syllabus.
Smoothing it out on the table’s (mostly) clean surface, he started reading. It was standard enough. His grade would be based off three exams. There was an optional fourth exam during finals week for students who wanted another shot at a better score. Nick almost never took those, since he tested well, but it was nice to have the opportunity.
Around the time he ran out of eggs, he finished the syllabus and checked his phone. Forty minutes to go before class. That was about thirty-five minutes more than he needed. He had a feeling he was going to have to get used to having downtime on a campus this small. Once classes started in earnest, he’d have plenty to do, but for now, he seized the opportunity to relax and soak in the peaceful morning.
The Academy Page 5
