After a few of my classmates had expressed their opinions, I raised my hand, desperately wanting to speak up as well. However, the professor overlooked me and picked a guy in the front instead. I slumped back in my seat to wait for my turn, a little disappointed that she hadn’t chosen me yet, but then I relaxed and eagerly waited for the guy to speak. Who knows? Maybe he had something far more perceptive to say than anything I could come up with.
“I know there are quite a few places online that are collecting donations for the migrant families,” the guy said. “To help out the young kids and so on.”
He had a deep and booming voice; one that made me feel all hot and bothered. It was strange, since I didn’t usually have such heady reactions to people, especially those I’d never met. I craned my neck, trying to get a good look at him, but my view was blocked by people sitting in front of me.
Robin and I exchanged glances, and she nodded her approval. “He has a sexy voice,” she whispered.
I nodded back at her, and we all waited for the guy to go on. There was a long pause, after which he finally spoke up again.
“Personally, I think it’s total bullshit,” he said.
The classroom immediately descended into dead silence. I didn’t think anyone could actually comprehend that he’d just spoken those words out loud. Did he just hate kids or something? What a jackass. Typical privileged guy, totally ignorant of the struggles of others.
My hands shook as I waited for him to say something else, but he kept quiet instead. Thankfully, the professor wasn’t going to allow him to get away with it.
“Why do you say that? Any specific reason?” she asked in a voice that was much calmer than what my own would be if I spoke right now.
The guy sighed and then actually laughed, and it made me so angry that I clutched my notebook as hard as I could, coloring my knuckles white as I considered throwing it at his head. Finally, he spoke up again.
“I just don’t think we can know for sure if the donated things are getting into the right hands,” he said. “There are all these Facebook groups where people are gathering things like blankets for them, but mostly, they’re asking for monetary donations.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” I said.
Every head in the lecture theatre turned towards me. I hadn’t even realized I’d actually spoken until the words were already out there. Even Robin was looking at me strangely, not used to this bold new side of me, but I guess I just hadn’t been able to hold back. I really wanted to know whether this guy had a valid reason for saying what he had.
“Huh?” I could hear the guy’s amused voice, but I still couldn’t see him. The professor cast an interested glance at me and then looked back at the guy before repeating my question to him.
“Look…I just don’t think it’s worth it,” the guy said. “The authorities are the best people to donate money to in order to help the children out. We shouldn’t personally intervene, because we don’t know if we’re actually even helping matters at all.”
“You’re saying we shouldn’t even bother? You’re saying we should totally ignore the situation, just because you don’t think the donated money will actually get into the right hands? You don’t even have to donate cash to the kids, you know. You could give them clothes, toys, or something to eat. You don’t have to give up your earnings.”
“I’m not talking about me personally,” the guy said, his tone quickly becoming defensive.
I rolled my eyes. Obviously. I’d meant my comment in a general sense, and he knew it.
“Besides, what makes you think I haven’t donated millions in cash already?” he continued.
I laughed at his bullshit comeback, shaking my head. Just then, someone in front of me moved their head to the side, giving me a perfect view of the guy I was arguing with.
Holy crap. He was hot as hell.
Light brown hair, striking blue eyes and chiseled features. He looked like someone out of a damned Abercrombie commercial.
“Holy mother of wet panties,” Robin murmured next to me, echoing my thoughts.
My knuckles tightened around my notebook again, and I could feel the spiral binding cutting into my hand as I stared, my mouth almost hanging open.
Suddenly, I could feel every pair of eyes in the lecture theatre on me, waiting for my response. I’d always hated being the center of attention, yet I’d successfully managed to get everyone to look at me—including the guy in question, who was staring right at me now. Dammit. I could see his eyes growing narrower as he glared at me, and then his expression changed from anger to something that looked a little too much like lust. I sighed inwardly, already certain that this would change his tune entirely.
I knew I wasn’t amazing, but I wasn’t terrible-looking either. I definitely wasn’t like most girls; not like the tall and slim ones who always seemed to be the popular girls on campus, anyway. My skin was a few shades darker, and my hair was quite out of the ordinary with its wild, frizzy curls. I was also short, but I had some curves, too, and this combination of features made a lot of people look at me differently. The guys who hit on me usually only seemed to like me because I was out of the norm and exotic.
I guess it totally figured that this douchebag was just like the rest of them.
“Have you donated millions in cash?” I asked sarcastically, arching one eyebrow.
The guy fidgeted in his seat, making the whole room laugh out loud. Even the professor was chuckling. I shot him a triumphant smile, thinking I had bested him, but apparently, he wasn’t done just yet.
“Have you?” he challenged me. I could feel myself blushing, a deep red color seeping into my cheeks. The rest of the class was quiet as everyone waited to see how our little battle would play out. “See, that’s exactly what I’m saying. No one wants to donate if they don’t know whether their money is going to end up in the right hands.”
“Or maybe not everyone has a lot of money to donate,” I shot back. That was certainly the case with me. Things had been difficult for my family since my Dad died. “And with those who do, maybe if people weren’t as pessimistic as you are, they would actually try to help out and at least do something to make things better.”
I could feel myself getting flushed as I spoke. He was getting to me, and judging by the triumphant gleam in his eyes, he knew it.
“Even so, what’s to say that these things would actually get to the poor children? Don’t you think there are people who just stuff their pockets with the cash we’re donating?” he asked.
He just wasn’t giving up. It was driving me crazy, but luckily, I had a lot more to say on the topic.
“Why not donate items then?” I interrupted him. “Like I said earlier, you could give them toys, clothes, sleeping bags, food in cans—anything to make their journey easier.”
“Yes, because that would be so easy to get to Europe all the way from America,” he said. Some of the people in class followed suit, giggling like he’d just told some hilarious joke.
By now I wasn’t just angry, I was furious. This guy was totally ignorant of other people’s struggles, and worse than that, he was making people think the same way as him. I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t let him get away with his bullshit opinions; not if it meant he was going to infect others with his terrible attitude.
“Maybe if you weren’t such a pessimistic douchebag, you could actually be proactive and do something about the problems in the world. You could actually do some good instead of sitting around arguing with people you don’t even know in class!” I said, my voice heated.
The whole room went silent again, and I regretted my words as soon as they left my mouth. They were too harsh, fueled by negative emotions. I could feel a stark tension in the air, and I knew I’d made everyone uncomfortable.
“You’re the one who started arguing with me in the first place, sweetheart,” he replied. “And you could be out there being proactive as well…yet here you are in class with me—the pessimistic douchebag
, as you so eloquently stated.”
My cheeks flushed even more. He was right, but I didn’t want to admit that out loud. Dammit, dammit, dammit. Why didn’t I actually think before I opened my stupid mouth?
“Er…perhaps it would be best if we return to the lecture slides now,” the professor said, trying to defuse the tension in the room.
The guy in the front row and I were still staring at each other, and I hated seeing that sparkle of mischief in his eyes. He totally thought this was just a game.
I was willing to bet a million bucks that he was some spoiled kid with a trust fund. There was no shortage of them on this campus, and I could easily picture him at some frat party at three in the morning with some gorgeous willowy girl wrapped around his shoulders.
He was the exact kind of guy I hated…and yet, my body was telling me otherwise.
“Wait… um, I have something else I’d like to say,” I said, trying to ignore the tingling in my belly.
I wasn’t usually one to stand up for myself, let alone in class, and I knew I’d already shocked everyone who knew me even a little bit, but this guy had really gotten to me. I didn’t know what I hated more—the rush of adrenaline when I argued with him, or the treacherous heat and wetness building between my legs. Just in case, I pressed my knees tightly together, afraid of someone seeing what was happening to me. If anyone knew the way this douchey-yet-sexy prick was making me feel, I’d be embarrassed as hell.
“I think it might be best if you kept it to yourself for now,” the professor said, fixing her cool gaze on me. I narrowed my eyes at her, a small battle raging between us. She was the one to back away, her eyes floating to the rest of the classroom, and I was left fuming that we hadn’t finished our discussion.
My eyes found my debate partner, and the prick was already deep in conversation with a pretty blonde girl who was sitting next to him in the front row. For some reason, that made me even angrier, although I had no idea why.
I guess I just didn’t like it when people took things so lightly. My opinion was that everyone should try to contribute something to the world, even if it was just something small. Perhaps I was naïve for thinking others were the same as me.
Our professor went on with her lecture and everyone listened closely, our heated discussion already forgotten. I could feel Robin nudging me with her elbow, but I waved my hand at her to get her off my case, not wanting to talk and draw any more attention to myself than I already had. Thankfully, she stopped elbowing me, and we silently took notes for the rest of the lecture.
Just as I’d finally managed to calm down a little bit, my phone vibrated with a notification, and I discreetly pulled it out of my bag and turned the screen on. Hmm. Apparently I had some activity on Matcher.
I looked around, feeling a little self-conscious about checking the dating app during class. Everyone was immersed in the lecture, though, so I quickly looked at the notification.
You have a match!
My cheeks flushed again, and I clicked on the message. The app loaded up, and my eyes grew wider as I saw who my match was. During our time at the café earlier, Robin had explained that to get a match, both users had to swipe right on each other’s profiles, and it looked like the blurry guy I’d been intrigued by earlier had swiped right on me too. A small smile appeared on my lips, and my mood lifted.
Since we were a match now, more photos of the guy had been unlocked. I was just about to go through them when my phone started vibrating with incoming messages. I quickly set my phone to silent so the vibrations wouldn’t annoy anyone, and then I started scrolling through the incoming texts.
They were from the mystery man I’d just matched with!
I was so nervous that I had to look away for a second, and my gaze floated towards the guy I’d been arguing with only moments ago. His attention wasn’t on the blonde girl anymore; instead he was messing around with his cell phone. I wished the professor would call him out on it, but she was deep into her lecture and didn’t seem to notice anything that was going on in the room. Besides, I was on my phone as well, so I was being a total hypocrite…but then again, when it comes to someone you don’t like, you’re allowed to be a little bit of a hypocrite, right?
Finally, I gathered up enough courage to check my messages on Matcher.
Hey, you look like you have a lot of firm opinions on things. Any thoughts on the gender wage gap?
Huh? What kind of opening line was that? I furrowed my brows, not understanding what this guy was on about at all. Before I could give it any more thought, new messages had started popping up.
Can I talk to you about our Lord and Savior Cthulhu?
Cthulhu? As in the giant Lovecraftian octopus creature? I was even more confused now. What kind of game was this guy playing? I sure as hell didn’t like it. It felt like he was making fun of me or something…and he didn’t seem to be done yet.
Not biting? Okay…would you like to get together and talk about the Ebola crisis in Africa instead? You seem like the kind of person who would whip my ass for having the wrong opinion…not that I would mind having my ass whipped by you… ;)
By now I was blushing furiously, and I decided to check out the guy’s photos to find a clearer one so I could figure out who he actually was. All it said under the name section was ‘L.R.’—his initials, I presumed. I scrolled through his profile, clicking on the pictures. The first one was the unclear one I’d seen before, of him wearing a hat on the beach. Immediately, my eyes went to his rock-hard abs. I blushed even harder, but I still enlarged the photo to get a better look.
“Already addicted?” Robin whispered.
I looked up, embarrassed about getting caught, and she nudged me playfully, her eyes on the screen of my phone. Obviously she’d seen me gawking at the guy, and I felt like an immature kid who’d just noticed the opposite sex for the first time.
“I knew I’d get you onto it. It’s so much fun, right?” she asked.
I gave her a weak nod, unable to get any words out of my mouth, and thankfully, she started paying attention to the professor again. I, however, was still stuck on the guy on Matcher. Finally, I managed to scroll past his first photo.
As soon as I saw the other photos, I gasped out loud, drawing puzzled glances from a few people around me, including Robin.
“What is it?” she whispered.
I shook my head. “Er…nothing. Just had a leg spasm,” I muttered, turning my attention back to the pictures on my screen.
There was a smirk firmly plastered on the guy’s lips in each photo, along with the same mischievous sparkle in his eyes that I’d seen only moments ago in class. It was a look that said ‘I own the world, deal with it’.
No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening….but apparently, it was. Just my freaking luck! The guy on Matcher was the same person I’d spent several horrible minutes arguing with.
Ugh.
I looked up from my phone again, my gaze drawn towards the front of the lecture theatre. The guy whom I’d privately nicknamed Lecture Douche was looking right at me with a stupid grin on his face as he mouthed something to me, pointing at his phone.
My phone buzzed again, and I checked out the new message.
I’m totally not opposed to sending nudes. But you already look like you’re about to pass out, so maybe another time?
P. S. You’re a shade away from a live lobster. If you want, I’ll drop you back into the sea after class. Maybe you can swim to Europe and help out with the migrant crisis.
Bastard!
Furious, I stashed my phone back in my bag, and just then, the professor announced that the lecture was over. I was so hot and enraged that someone could’ve probably fried an egg on my face as I put the rest of my things away.
Robin was talking about something she’d heard in the lecture, but I didn’t have the energy to listen to anything related to class right now. I was way too angry. She gave me a questioning look, but I figured I’d just explain everything later.
> We said our goodbyes, and she rushed outside to get to her next lecture. I had a break for the next couple of hours, so I took my time getting ready to leave. The last thing I wanted was to bump into my new nemesis from Matcher on my way out.
Unfortunately, he had other plans.
I was just on my way out of the room when someone bumped into me, hard. My books went flying, and I nearly toppled over. A pair of strong arms caught me just in time, holding me in place.
“We keep meeting in the weirdest of ways!”
An amused voice sounded in my ears…one that I immediately recognized as him—Lecture Douche, who was now hassling me on Matcher. I refused to look up, and instead I jerked away from his arms and bent down to pick up my books along with everything else that had fallen onto the floor.
He wasn’t about to give up that easily.
“Anyway, sorry about that. Walked right into you. Maybe it’s a sign?” he said.
A sign that I should kick you down the steps, perhaps, I thought, still ignoring him as I picked up my books and searched for my favorite pen, which had rolled under a chair.
“So…maybe we should get together and discuss some other world situations sometime,” he suggested, pressing on despite the fact that I’d ignored literally every other word he’d said to me so far.
I could just about imagine the shit-eating grin on his face as he said those last words. I still didn’t want to respond, though, let alone look up at him. To engage would be to lose, because you can’t win with idiots. Instead, I murmured something non-committal and made a point of looking at my watch as I stood up, not meeting his gaze even for a second.
“I like arguing with pretty girls. It usually leads to other fun stuff,” he said.
God, he just didn’t give up, did he? If I hadn’t known what my breaking point was earlier, I was fairly certain that this was it now.
I jerked my head up, finally looking at the guy’s face. Shit, he really was handsome; even more so than I’d initially assessed from a distance. But I wasn’t about to let that chiseled face cloud my vision. He was a total prick, and I wasn’t going to let him get away with it.
Mask - A Stepbrother Romance Page 20
