After that revelation, the rest of the class is easy. The professor explains the syllabus, and by explain, I mean he reads each line out loud. It’s completely unnecessary since none of us are paying attention. I won’t complain though. It stops the professor from teaching the first day of class. Every once in a while, I can hear a student chuckle or gasp about something the professor says.
I guess some people are paying attention.
Professor Clift is desperately trying to be funny, which is refreshing. At least he isn’t trying to bore us to death like others do.
“Oh, I almost forgot. Since this is a required class, I do have to take attendance,” the professor says just as he is about to dismiss us. Pulling out a piece of paper, he begins calling out names and I tune out, too distracted by the idea of having to do group work in order to pass the course.
“Mia Collins,” the professor says. “Ms. Collins are you here?”
With a jolt, I realize I haven’t answered him. “Here!” I say to the professor. He sighs like he thinks I’m an idiot for making him call my name twice.
From the corner of my eye, I can see few heads have turned my way. I’m flustered, and slowly slouch down into my seat to escape their eyes. The professor continues going through the attendance sheets, and my thoughts wander off until...
“Colton Hunter,” the professor says.
What? I look up, panicked.
“Colton Hunter,” Clift repeats, visibly annoyed. I sink deeper into my chair. The professor scans the room briefly before he nods. One of the girls beside me turns around and looks at the brunette sitting next to her, whispering how hot Colton is.
Oh, God. It’s definitely him.
Out of all places and all classes, fate has it that I am stuck in class with him. The memory of Saturday night comes flooding back, but I push it away. My shoulder aches a little serving as a reminder that I should not waste another second thinking about that bad-mannered asshole.
Class ends after the professor finishes taking attendance. All the students get up and collect their belongings. Chatter fills the room; everyone is catching up and talking about their summer. I gather my things and stuff them into my book bag. I stand up and as I start walking to the exit, I run into someone, knocking something out of their hands.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I say to the person I bumped into, not quite looking at them, the pain in my shoulder increasing. I bend down to pick up a notebook from the floor. When I look up, I realize I’ve bumped into none other than Colton Hunter, and it’s his notebook I’m holding. Before he has a chance to speak, I push the notebook into his chest and walk away. I don’t really want to engage in conversation with him. If I’d realized it was him I’d bumped into, I would have simply walked away.
I have two more classes left before this day ends. Mondays are going to be hectic since I am taking three courses back-to-back, but hey, I will literally do anything to get Friday’s off and enjoy a long weekend of relaxation. Maybe if I motivate myself, I may even get to play the piano.
The rest of my classes go by smoothly. We get our syllabus, talk about the course and requirements, and then get dismissed for the day. The course load seems like it will be manageable, and I know I’m going to do well.
4
COLTON
I’m done with classes for the day, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the girl from earlier―the girl in the seminar class. She’d run into me, apologized sincerely, but then when she saw it was me, her eyes turned from sympathy to something else―pure disdain. I’ve never seen her before, yet the look she gave me makes me think she knows who I am.
“Yo, Colt, you here?” I hear Zack say. Zack Hayes is one of my fraternity brothers, and an offensive lineman. We share a house with the other team members, among them my brother. Zack is what we like to call the player of the group. Different girl every day, and sometimes every night. Despite that, he’s still one of the better guys in the house.
Honestly, there are a few others that are assholes who I’d never voluntarily choose to be friends let alone live with, but I have no choice since it comes with football. I guess one of the good things about sharing a house is that I get to keep an eye on Nick. The way I see it, my brother plus unsupervised athletes’ house equals trouble. It also comes with additional perks: parties, drinks, and all the girls we’d ever need.
Not that I sleep around. Not anymore, anyway.
I am no longer a fan of the girls who throw themselves at me. Most of them just want to say we hooked up so they can tell other girls they had sex with a football player―with the quarterback of the football team. I’m not up for that shit anymore. It’s my junior year―the most important year of my college career, and contrary to popular belief, I actually want to graduate with honors. Still, I can’t say I’ve never taken advantage of the benefits that came with my reputation, because I have. But that was before.
“Yes, I am.” We’re sitting in the dining hall, trays filled with food in front of us. A fraternity comprised of all football players means that when we aren’t partying, studying, training, or working out, we are eating like starved pigs.
“Dude, did you hear anything I just said?” he asks, and honestly I haven’t.
“Do I ever listen to anything you say?” I retort, not admitting to him that I’m thinking about a girl. It might give him the wrong idea.
“Haha, very funny. But seriously, are we still throwing the party on Saturday? We have to welcome in the fresh meat!”
Every semester, the Football House throws a huge start of the semester party where we invite everyone on campus. The Greek system is pretty big at Bragan, and we basically run it because football is at the top of the food chain. The Football House is the most popular fraternity on campus, and the most exclusive one too considering you have to be a football player to get in.
I didn’t want to be a part of it, but if I was going to be forced, then I needed to be at the top, which is why I became the president. I needed to be the authority. I needed to be in control.
“We do it every year, don’t we?” I shoot back.
“This time we have to go big. It’s your first year as president and captain,” Zack says, ignoring my sarcastic response.
Nick, Chase, Blake Miller, and Jesse Falcon join our table, setting down their trays. Blake is the fighter of the group. While I can fight, I don’t pick fights. Blake, on the other hand, is very similar to Nick―he loves to start them. I guess that’s why they’ve been inseparable since they started college two years ago. Jesse is the moral compass of the group. He is a pre-med student, who is always the designated driver. He can still party like the best and worst of us, but he has a sharp focus with a clear goal in mind. He’s also our main kicker. With all six of us sitting at the table, we are drawing an audience. I hate the unnecessary attention. It feels like we’re animals in a zoo, paintings in a museum, clowns at a circus.
The guys talk animatedly about the details of the party. I join the conversation as they begin to joke and laugh about shit from the weekend. The fight is brought up, and me having to bail out my siblings. I can laugh about it now, but I was fuming when it happened.
Speaking of my sister, I see Kaitlyn and her friends making their way to our table. They tend to sit with us because Kaitlyn is family, and also because the guys find the rest of the girls that come with her hot. Kaitlyn is part of a sorority on campus, DM. I don’t know what the fuck it stands for, and honestly I don’t care. With a less than maternal mother when we were growing up, I can see why K’s happy to have sisters, even if they aren’t blood.
“Hey, guys,” Kaitlyn greets us.
“Hey, K,” I respond and the rest of the guys voice their own greetings as she takes a seat next to Jesse and joins the conversation. Her friend, Jade, sits next to her, while Abbigail Brown, the head of DM, slides in between Zack and me.
Scooting closer to me, she whispers, “Hey, sexy,” in my ear.
Like I said, I don’t
sleep around, but Abby and I had an understanding. I ended it last weekend, though, when she started acting like she was my girlfriend. I told her from the beginning that I didn’t want a relationship. It was only sex, but she got clingy and the arrangement had to end. I don’t want to break any girl’s heart―I’m not an asshole―but I don’t want to be with anyone either, not when I know how deceiving women can be.
“Hello, Abby,” I say to her as politely as I can. She slides her hand below the table and rests it on my thigh…
Too close.
I grab her wrist, stopping her before she reaches her goal. She pouts. If she thinks I’ll change my mind, she’s got another thing coming. I know that sitting next to her will inevitably lead to drama. I don’t know if she’s the type to make a scene, but it wouldn’t be the first time a girl does, and I don’t need that right now. I stand up, pick my book bag up from the floor and my tray from the table.
I’m done here.
5
MIA
The rest of Tuesday flies by, and Wednesday arrives way too quickly for my liking. It’s time for Junior Seminar―time to avoid Colton. With coffee in hand, I walk into the room. I need as much caffeine as I can get to help me through this. With at least fifteen minutes before class begins, I grab my phone and search through the apps until I find a game to play.
The room fills up quickly, the volume of chatter increasing steadily. When the room goes quiet, I assume the professor is here and put my phone away. When I lift my eyes, though, I realize everyone has shut up because Colton has come into the room.
I swear it’s like in one of those cheesy movies, where time stops and there is a spotlight on the hot male lead. Still, I can’t tear my eyes away. I look from his feet to his dark hair. He has this just rolled out of bed look, but it works for him. If I’d just rolled out of bed, it would not be pretty. In sweatpants and a tight-fitting Under Armor shirt that emphasizes the size and shape of his biceps, he looks better than the first time I saw him.
Before I’m able to stop myself, I gaze up and down his body once more and then zero in on his eyes. They are a deep piercing gray, and just like quicksand, I feel myself getting sucked in. He looks over at me, then, catching me watching. My cheeks flush with color and he smiles a perfect smile, then winks. He slowly walks past me, finding a seat at the back of the room.
I’m still frozen from embarrassment, and if I weren’t sitting down right now, I would look absurd. I can’t believe he caught me blatantly checking him out. I don’t even like him. He’s handsome, but I would never willingly choose to be romantically involved with him. Not that I imagine he does romantic, but that’s beside the point. My cheeks are still red, and I silently pray that no one else noticed.
I force myself to look ahead, replaying the whole thing in my head. I know I had the ‘deer caught in the headlights’ look when he saw me. And his reaction showed me that he knew exactly what I was doing. I mean, his response was to smile and wink mockingly at me.
Arrogant jerk.
After what feels like forever, the professor finally enters the classroom.
“Okay class. Settle down,” Clift says as he gestures with his hands for the students to sit down. “I need you all to get into groups of no more than three students. Once you’re in those groups, we will do an activity which will allow me to take attendance and hopefully learn your names.”
I am instantly frightened. Had I misheard him? I sit there for a moment, waiting for him to assign groups.
“You have four minutes,” Professor Clift adds. “I suggest you start.”
While everyone else gets up from their seats and move to their friends, I sit there. I figure someone will move towards me eventually. But as the minutes pass, I begin to feel like the kid in the movies—the one that always gets picked last in gym class, or the one that the teacher has to force someone to add to their teams. Yup, that will be me. The lame one. The last pick. The one no one wants. I gotta say, this is not a foreign feeling.
“Did everyone find a group?” the professor asks after the allotted time. He looks around the room, and sees the groups that have been formed. I don’t want to raise my hand and show him that I’m not in a group, but it’s kind of obvious. I’m sitting in the front of the class, and no one else is around me.
“Miss, what was your name again?” Professor Clift says. I hope for half a second he isn’t talking to me, but I can see him staring.
“Mia,” I say. “Mia Collins.”
“Yes, Mia,” he says, emphasizing my name.
The professor looks around the room again, then turns his attention back to me and says, “I think Mr. Hayes’s group can fit one more. Mr. Hayes and Mr. Hunter, thank you for volunteering.”
No. No. No! This can’t be happening.
The professor is staring at me. “Miss Collins, please join Mr. Hunter and Mr. Hayes.”
I’m trying to but my feet aren’t cooperating. They’re stuck in place. I regret not standing up earlier and adding myself to a team. Even if it would have been uncomfortable, it would have been better than this. This is what I get for being a coward.
The professor lifts his glasses and his eyebrows follow, and I take that as a signal to get up. I grab my notebook, throw my book bag over my left shoulder, and turn to face the back of the room. Legs trembling, I make my way up the stairs and that’s when I realize that all eyes are on me.
The guys in the room are giving me amused looks, while the girls eye me with anger and jealousy.
There goes the invisibility cloak, I think to myself. I’m the center of attention, and I don’t like it one bit. I make my way to the back of the room as quickly as I possibly can, hoping that the sooner I get there, the quicker the scrutinizing eyes will be off me. I’m forced to look up in order to figure out exactly where I’ll be sitting, when all of a sudden…
Bang!
I trip and go down, but my knee breaks my fall before my face can. Laughter immediately ripples through the room. I have the distinct urge to run, but that would be like a dramatic exit in one of the Telenovelas I used to watch with my mother. That would be even more embarrassing. Even as the laughter in the room gets louder, I pick up my notebook, stand up and lift my chin high.
I catch someone staring at me with a devilish grin. She is a slim girl with blonde hair, green eyes and extremely long legs. She immediately makes me feel self-conscious. She’s watching me with satisfaction in her eyes, like she’s proud of herself.
“Find your place, Miss. Collins,” the professor says impatiently, stopping the staring contest between the girl and me. I nod and continue walking, having to force every step. When I drop down into the empty seat next to Hayes, I don’t look at him or Colton. I know my face is still red and hot with embarrassment. I just want this to be over.
COLTON
I find myself watching the girl in the front row, waiting to see what she’ll do. What group would she be a part of? A few girls wanted to sit with us, and Zack wanted them to as well, but I gave them a look to keep them away. Last semester, Abby sat with us in every class we shared, but after last weekend, that is no longer the case. It’s not that I don’t want to be friends with her. I just need her to get over me first.
I keep watching the girl, now sitting alone at the front of the room. She doesn’t move from her seat, even when everyone else is finding a group.
“Hey, Colton—” a girl begins to ask in a sugary sweet voice.
“No,” I reply, my gaze not leaving my girl.
Zack leans into me. “Hey, give a guy a chance here,” he says. I give him a sideways glance. He shrugs. “She’s hot.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I reply.
When the girl looks around and sees the groups being formed, she doesn’t seek anyone out. Who is she? Where does she come from? And why in the hell did she look at me as if she hates me. I wait until everyone is in a group, and I look at her again. She is still alone.
I’m about to volunteer our group when the
professor looks around the room and finds Zack. And almost like an answer to my prayers—or thoughts—Professor Clift makes her join our group. I couldn’t have planned it any better. I can’t wipe the smug grin off my face either.
After the professor tells her she is going to be a part of my group, she turns her head, her eyes locking onto my face, along with the rest of the class. She looks pissed off. I saw the way she was staring at me when I walked into class today. I thought she’d jump at the chance of working with me.
I must admit, though, I’d enjoyed having her watch me. I don’t like it most days, but I liked it when it came from her.
I watch her, studying her every movement. I can see the wheels turning, her hesitation to get up out of her seat. That’s when the professor loses his patience and demands that she move. She stands up with her belongings in hand, and I let my gaze rake her body from her open-toe sandals, to her tight faded skinny jeans that have holes in them, and finally to the off-the-wall shirt with a deep V in the front. Forcing myself to look up, I take in her full lips and almond-shaped eyes. She is beautiful–the I don’t know I’m pretty kind of beautiful. I smile to myself.
Her eyes downcast, she makes her way up the stairs, only looking up briefly before she lurches forward unexpectedly, landing hard on her knees.
The moment I see her collapse, I jump out of my chair. I want to help her. Still on her hands and knees, she hesitates for a few moments. A big part of me wants to offer my hand, pick up her things, and make sure she’s okay. Another part of me remembers how she looked at me, so I don’t make a move. I slowly slide back into my chair, the sense of protectiveness still looming over me, but overpowered by my sense of self-preservation.
She gathers her belongings and makes her way to our table. I look away, pretending I hadn’t been paying attention. She grabs the empty seat next to Zack, and I’ll be damned if I’m not disappointed it isn’t next to me instead.
Better With You: A Bragan University Novel Page 3
