Chapter Two
Harper
“How ...why ...I mean...?”
Harper Grant stammered out a nervous greeting as the rest of the incoming freshman class trundled past, high-fiving and chest-bumping and all but physically coupled in a pseudo-sexual frenzy of post pep rally hysteria.The same kind Harper had thought he’d left behind for good in tiny Piedmont, Georgia, the day he left for college.
And never looked back...
Banks Principle stood in front of him, as lean and sleek and compact and sexy as he’d looked strutting through the high school halls in his letterman’s jacket back in the day, a cheerleader on each arm like some kind of teen movie rock god or something.
“You checked off ‘Undeclared’ when we sent out the senior signup sheet,” Banks decried, looking casually yummy in a rumpled rugby shirt and faded jeans.Of course Banks had been senior editor of their high school yearbook back home, as well as taking pictures for the school newspaper, saluting as part of the ROTC program, the star running back for their football teamandstarring as a giant, sexy zebra in the drama production of Doctor Doolittle.
“I was,” Harper hemmed.“Sorta?”
Then he remembered.“So did you, as I recall.”
Banks flushed, hollow cheeks filling with a crimson color that flattered his cheery brown eyes and tousled, dirty blond locks.“Yeah, in case my parents read it.”
Harper cocked his head, the atmosphere growing vaguely intimate as the rest of the freshmen who’d signed up for morning session rapidly filed from the formerly claustrophobic auditorium.“They ...didn’t know you were coming here?”
“Not until it was too late for them to do anything about it,” Banks insisted vaguely, tarnishing the golden boy image Harper had created for the ever elusive, Big Man on Campus.“They would have stepped in and made me change my mind somehow.”
Harper stiffened, almost unaware he was doing so.“At least they would have cared enough to notice where you’d be for the next four years, Banks.”
Banks made an “ouch” face, just before a herd of future sorority sisters jostled him nearly into Harper’s lap.“Sore subject much?”
“Sorry, I ...I just never thought I’d see you again.”
Banks teased, punching him playfully on the arm.“Aw, you do care, after all?”
Harper felt himself blushing, almost grateful when Nate, their super terrific, overly dramatic, bordering on operatic host for freshman orientation, sauntered over with his big, dumb megaphone.“Thanks for coming, guys,” he bellowed, as if still addressing a full auditorium and not merely an audience of two.Harper noticed he wasn’t the only one flinching at the obnoxious volume, Banks wincing as if a bug had just crawled in his ear.“But we’re not done yet, gang.Ice cream social in ten minutes on the quad lawn, don’t be late!”
He jostled them both, as obnoxiously as he’d run the entire orientation, a living, breathing college catalog in human form.Harper watched him go, turning to find Banks watching him in the process.“What?”
“What, what?”Banks had a vaguely teasing tone, as if he was actually glad to see him.Glad enough, perhaps, to ...want to see more of him?
