I stop, but I don’t look at him.
“I’m sorry,” he continues. “She was a bitch to you last night. I shouldn’t have asked you for her digits.”
Digits?God, that sounds so stupid, especially since I already know he’s not sorry for wanting her number. He’s just sorry he askedme.
“No problem.” I step away from him, picking up my pace. I’m out the door and on my way to biology—one hour early. Great.
As I’m walking out the door, he shouts, “Hey, tell Cooke he’s got fans here. If he’s ever in Ames—”
The door slams behind me, so I don’t get to hear the rest of it, thank goodness.
Chapter Eight
Tayler was right, but I refuse to admit that to her. If I do, she’ll just rub it in my face. Not only that, but she’s never the one to apologize first whenever we’ve had a fight, and I’m tired of it. She claims it’s because I’m too emotional (I am), that I take things too personally (I do), and she doesn’t have time for it. God, just thinking about it pisses me off. I’ve lasted over a week without my best friend. While it makes me sad, I know I need to hold out for her to extend the olive branch this time. Can I do it? Time will tell. In the meantime, I’ll get to know my roommates a little better—hopefully sans Kara—and see where that goes.
* * *
As I waitfor my biology class to begin, I use the time to go over my notes again. Biology is not my thing. You can lump science right in with math,thankyouverymuch. Exception? I took Geology 101 my freshman year, dubbed ‘Rocks for Jocks,’ and I loved it. I learned a lot of good stuff about Earth, like tectonic plates. Plus, the professor was cool and funny.
The door opens to the lab and our teaching assistant steps in. She’s in charge of these labs while the actual professor does the lecture portion of the classes. At least the labs let usdothings. Sitting in a lecture for ninety minutes is not my favorite thing, but it’s just part of it, I guess. Today, we’re continuing to talk about ecosystems, and happily, our task is to work in groups to make a poster about our experiments, which is right up my alley. Whoever I get lumped with will appreciate my artistic skills.
Just as class is about to end, I feel my phone vibrate in the front pocket of my hoodie. We’re not supposed to have phones in class, so I want to be discreet. Looking down, I reach into my pocket and pull it about halfway out, enough for me to see the text
Unknown:Hey, this is Cooke. Just wanted to check on you after last night.
I’m honestly shocked. I mean, I’ve video chatted with this man several times, and it’s strange because he’s very easy to talk to. Sure, it could be the fact that he lives a million miles away and obviously unattainable for someone like me, so there’s none of my usual nerves like when I talk to hot guys like Bryant. Cooke seems to be a nice guy who happens to be drop-dead gorgeous and definitely out of my league.
I look up to make sure the TA can’t see me on my phone. Holding it under my table in an attempt to hide it, I quickly add him to my contacts and type:
Me:Hi, Cooke. I’m good. In biology lab. Can’t get caught with my phone.
He responds immediately.
Cooke:Biology, eh? I think you need to tell me all about your biology lessons.
I blink a few times.Is Cooke flirting with me?I shake my head. “Nah.” So I type the least sexy thing I can think of.
Me:We’re learning about ecosystems.
Cooke:Well, that’s a shame.
Me:It’s not my thing.
Cooke:What’s your “thing”?
Me:Art. I’m an art ed major.
Cooke:Art ed?
Me:Art education. I want to be an art teacher someday.
Cooke: Wonderful profession, educator. You must be a talented artist.
Me:I’m okay.
“Quinn Maxwell.”
Shit.
