He haunted me. At night, I could feel him, and I lived through what felt like a complete rerun every night in my dreams. During the day, I ducked whenever I saw him, and twice I just hid. My only consolation was that he really didn’t seem to know it was me, and having spoken to him numerous times at the beginning of the week, my brain felt that I should be able to relax, but my heart wasn’t listening.
Ash and Gray were no better. Gray was almost growling at everyone, and I heard that in practice yesterday afternoon, Gray had punched out Jamie Woods, the defensive lineman. One Devil gunning for you was bad . . . but the girl with the blonde hair had three.
Not the girl with the blonde hair.Me. My pen tapped on my desk in a rapid rhythm as I waited nervously for the lecture to start. This class I was Santo free, but one of their female friends was in it, Elise something or other. She was classic high school bitchy, and I’d been fortunate enough to never be on her radar. High school was over, but for the reigning bitches, they never outgrew those years of honing their skills of scorn and vapidness.
Jesus, I was turning into the bitch. For all I knew, Elise was really nice and volunteered at a cat sanctuary or something.As I watched her hold her group of friends captive with her storytelling, though, I decided she probably wore fur, and if she was at a cat sanctuary, it was more likely that she would skin them for a new coat.
As I despaired internally at my cynical self, I turned my attention to my notepad and started to sketch out a new design for one of Wade’s new posters. The band had written a new song, and Wade wanted a poster with the song in the design. The song was called “Kiss Me in the Rain,” and I was debating how to get the song and the band’s name, Atticus Dawn, into the poster.
“Hi, can I sit?”
Looking up, I smiled in surprise at Shane. “Hi, I didn’t know you took this class?” I said as he sat beside me, and I turned to talk to him.
“Yeah, just for this semester.” Dirty blond hair, too long, but it suited him. Warm brown eyes, and today he had thick-framed glasses on. His polo shirt and long shorts were topped off with bright white sneakers. He was as far removed from country rock as I was from the Queen of Sheba.
“I don’t think I’d have recognized you,” I admitted as I looked him over. “You are completely different from the other night.”
“I scrub up well, you mean?” he teased with an easy smile. “Which do you prefer? College me or Atticus Dawn me?”
My laugh was light as I shook my head at his teasing. “You’re still you no matter what you wear.”
“Oh, so it’s what’sinsidethat counts,” he joked as he smiled down at the top of his desk.
“Bingo!” I gave a light clap of applause. “I was actually thinking of the new poster design,” I told him as I showed him my notepad.
“You’re so talented,” he murmured as he studied it. “It makes no sense to me that you don’t study art and design.”
“I’m not that good,” I protested slightly. “If I was, I would know how to make it rain . . .”
“Go out with me?”
I blinked as I looked up at him from my drawing. “Huh?”
“A date, with me, go on one?” Shane squeezed his eyes shut. “Okay, in non-Yoda, that’swill you go on a date with me?”
I hadn’t been expecting it. I mean, I knew — well, I thought I knew — that he liked me, but this was our second conversation? I wasn’t used to being asked out. I wasn’t sure of the etiquette. Did I just agree?
“Ava?”
“Um, yeah, sure.”
Shane smiled widely at me, and I shyly smiled back. The door being closed brought my attention back to the front of the class, and I was unsure whether I was grateful there was no further conversation or disappointed. After fifty minutes of purple prose, my head was weary and heavy. Which I belatedly realized was the point of the lecture, but still, I think I needed an Advil.
Shane and I walked out of the class together, and at the walkway to my next lecture, he told me he was heading in the opposite direction.
“You still have my number?” he asked me as he reached for his sunglasses.
“Yeah, I do.” As he checked his phone to make sure that Mia had indeed given him my number, I noticed Jett and Ash walking toward the stadium. Jett looked amazing; there was no other word for it. His thick black hair was pushed back off his face, his shades hiding his eyes. His head was held high, his broad shoulders were straight, his T-shirt tight across them, detailing his sculpted muscles. His sleeve of tattoos caught my eye, and I noted how even in today’s intense humidity, he still wore jeans. Ash was similarly attired, his usual drop armholeshirt displaying his muscles and ripped jeans. Both wore dark sneakers, and both lookedgood.
“You heard the rumors?” Shane asked me with a curious look.
Nodding, I turned my attention back to him. “Yeah, crazy, right?”
“The life of the infamous,” he said, but I caught the bitter edge to his humor and wanted to probe more when his next words caught my question in my throat. “Hey,you’reblonde.”
No no no no no no. People canhear. “As are many.” Was it suspicious if I suddenly turned up tomorrow with my hair colored brown?
“True,” Shane said as he grinned at me. “So . . . you’re not the thief?”
