He smiled. “Stonewall’s pretty small, and I’m fairly sure I would’ve remembered you. There aren’t that many hot biology majors.”
Heat raced up my neck and spread across my cheeks. I whipped my hair across my face in a lame attempt to hide behind the crimson curtain. “How’d you know I was a bio major?”
“Not many other students would be in a third-year biochemistry class.”
“Good assumption.” I turned toward the door, and he stepped into stride beside me.
“I’m Micah by the way.”
“Lexi,” I replied, pretending his name was new information. “So are you pre-med too?”
“I am. My dad’s a neurosurgeon, just like his father and his grandfather.”
“Ah, gotcha.”
He held the door open, and I led the way into the bustling corridor.
“You sound a little bitter.”
“Am I that obvious?” He smirked, echoing my earlier words. “Nah, it’s just that journalism is my real passion. I’m a double major, actually.”
“How very ambitious of you.”
He shrugged as we walked down the hall. “For me, there’s nothing like the thrill of the chase. Unearthing all the dirtydetails of a story, uncovering the hidden agenda, the whole investigative process really.”
“It’s kind of like being a doctor though, right? Finding an answer, discovering a cure...”
“Exactly.” His smile grew wider as he regarded me. “You really get me, pre-med. Want to grab some lunch?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the university cafeteria. I’d walked by it yesterday, and it was more like a five-star restaurant than the assortment of fast-food places I was used to.
“I can’t actually. I have another class in ten minutes.” I tugged my schedule out of my pocket.
He scanned the print-out, his lips twisting. “Ooh, I feel sorry for you. Mirkoff for Genetics is brutal.”
“Great.”
Micah ran his finger over the black type. “But... we do have Endocrinology together tomorrow, so that’s something.”
“Whoopee.”
“I’m going to pretend that sarcasm wasn’t directed at me.” He pulled out his cell phone and handed it over. “Give me your number so we can hang out sometime.”
“Uh, sure.” Damn, rich guys were way more sure of themselves than the typical dirtbags who hit on me back home. I typed out my name and digits as he watched expectantly.
“You going to the Sigma Delta party tonight?”
“I guess I am. My roommate, Cordelia Chesson, is dragging me.”
“Oh, sure, I’ve seen her around. She used to hook up with a friend who graduated last year.”
“She seems cool.”
“She’s definitely down for a good time,” he said. “Just watch yourself, pre-med. The academics here are no joke.”
“I pretty much figured that out after my first hour.” I’d been number one in my class at San Carlo Community College, buthere, I was no one. Just the new scholarship girl. “Speaking of, I should go.”
Micah dipped his head and threw me a warm smile. “I’ll look for you at the party tonight.”
Right. A frat party on a school night, what could possibly go wrong?
