My morning passed in a blur. I guess time would fly by, given how busy I was keeping myself. Between making breakfast, getting myself ready for school, and getting Sophia to daycare on time, I hadn’t had time to think about anything else, especially the night before.
I arrived on campus with some time to spare, so I decided to take a self-guided tour of the grounds. The campus was beginning to stir. There weren’t crowds everywhere, but a few people were wandering around. Some found spots to sit and read, like on the bench by the front sidewalk, near the large brick fountain in the middle of the courtyard, or leaning against a tree trunk. There was a coffee cart with a small line, so I chose to get a cup to enjoy as I explored my new school. I reached the end of the line and waited.
After a few minutes, the guy in front of me turned around. Our eyes locked, and he offered a friendly smile, so I did the same.
“My name's Lance. What’s yours?”
“Sasha,” I replied.
He nodded. “I haven’t seen you around here before. First time at this coffee cart?”
I laughed. “It is. It’s my first day on campus. I just transferred here.”
“Oh. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Sasha.” He held out his hand to shake.
I took it, noticing how gently he shook it.
He ran his hand through his dark hair as we moved up in line. “I’ve been going here for a few years now. I’m happy to show you around if you want, help you find your classes.”
“Yeah? That would be great, thank you.” I pulled my schedule from my back pocket and reviewed it. “I’m trying to find the Campbell Building?”
He grinned. “Would you believe me if I said I was going that way?”
A laugh slipped past my lips as I rolled my eyes. “No. Are you?”
His smirk widened. “I am now.”
We got our coffee, then he led me to the building I needed to find. As he walked beside me, I took the opportunity to take in everything about him. He was tall, with a swimmer's build. He obviously wasn’t someone who played football or anything. If he did any sports, I was betting it was track or swimming. Something that required participants to keep a lean figure rather than bulking up.
He wore loose-fitting jeans and a pair of worn Chuck Taylors. He wore a navy-blue Henley shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. The buttons along the neck were undone, and asmall patch of skin peeked out from the opening. He had high cheekbones, a squared jaw, and blazing blue eyes that lit up when the sun caught them.
“So, what are you majoring in?” he asked as we walked along.
“Computer science,” I replied.
He nodded. “Respectable. And what do you wish you were majoring in?”
I chuckled. “Is it that obvious?”
He shrugged. “Nah, I’ve just been here long enough to know that what we dream about isn’t usually what’s practical.”
I nodded.
“Art,” I confessed.
“Ah, she’s the artistic type. What’s your thing?”
“My thing?” I asked, saying the word just like he did.
“Yeah, you know… Your thing. Is it paint, watercolor, or sketching? Or are you more into physical art like pottery or making art with trash cans and used condoms, that kind of thing.”
I laughed. “First of all, ew. Who uses trash cans and used condoms?”
He smirked and shrugged. “Just giving an example. I haven’t actually seen it done myself.”
I laughed and sipped my coffee. “Good. Because that isn’t art, it’s a biohazard.”
He laughed.
