‘New but not a fresher. Back home I’d be a junior, here I’m in the third year.’
Looking delighted, she pats the ground beside her, an invitation to join the group.
‘Amazing, me too! And I just clocked the accent, you’re American? Come here, tell us everything … name, where are you from, what are you studying?Everything.’
All of her friends turn my way, staring expectantly. Wow. Three minutes and one face-plant later, I’m already more popular at Hemden than I was after two whole years at Marshall College. It almost makes the mind-numbingly painful knee injury worth it. Almost.
‘There’s not that much to tell,’ I say with an uncomfortable half-laugh as I stretch out my injured leg. ‘My name’s Mia, I’m an exchange student from South Carolina and I’m preternaturally clumsy. Truly, Bella Swan before she becomes a vampire clumsy.’
‘God, spoiler alert.’
Alice punches one of her friends in the arm, a tall guy with a mischievous smirk. Even lounging on the lawn he’s huge, with the kind of tan that says he spent the summer outdoors and a set of broad shoulders that screamI play sports, ask me how!
‘Yes, Michael, because it’s only been twenty years since that book came out,’ she says drily before turning back to me. ‘Very cool. The exchange student bit, I mean, not the clumsy part. That’s probably less than ideal.’
She amps up her megawatt grin until it’s almost blinding, thenturns to the group of people beside her, pointing out each of them in turn. ‘This cultural vacuum is Michael, feel free to ignore everything he ever says. The idiot who tried to kill you with his bag is Bryn, next to him is Jenna.’ A beyond beautiful Black girl with glowing brown skin and waist-length microbraids raises her hand in a small wave. ‘And last but not least, we have our resident troubadour, Oliver.’
Oh.
My.
God.
Black leather blazer over a vintage-looking T-shirt. Worn-in jeans and a pair of beat-up Chuck Taylors. His hair is dark blond and wavy, curling over grey-blue eyes that steal my breath when he glances my way and, in his arms, he’s cradling an acoustic guitar. Never before in my entire life have I been so envious of an inanimate object.
Oliver.
Time slows down as a sleepy smile lifts his lips and he strums the guitar strings with one hand, effortlessly forming chords with the other. I can’t hear the tune over the noise in the quad, but it doesn’t matter. I know whatever he’s playing is beautiful becausehe’sbeautiful. So self-conscious, I smooth out my dark brown braid, a futile attempt to tame the frizz and flyaways that have been flickering around my face since somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. My mouth is dry, tongue thick and my ability to speak nowhere to be found. None of my beloved books, not even Shakespeare’s sonnets or love songs, could have prepared me for this moment. This is love at first sight, it has to be. Shit. My most loathed of tropes, slapping me right in the face. At the very least it’s lust at first sight. Everyone else fades away, knocked back into shadows of themselves as Oliver is pulled into sharp relief.
‘What are you reading?’ asks one of the others. Michael, I think?
‘What am I reading?’ I’m flushing under Oliver’s unwavering gaze, painfully aware how gross and post-plane I must look compared to his cute, cool friends. ‘Oh, you mean what am I studying? English. English lit.’
‘Ah. Same as Oliver.’
Of course. Of course he’s reading English. I bite my lip and somehow manage to tear my eyes away from him for maybe three seconds. Has anyone’s mouth ever been so perfect? Broad and full, one corner crooked upwards, it’s all I can do not to throw myself across the lawn and commit acts of public indecency that I assume are just as illegal in the UK as they are in the US.
‘Well, Mia, as your unofficial Hemden welcoming committee, we need to take you to the union with us,’ Alice says. ‘Bryn owes you a liquid apology for a start.’
‘Really, it was my fault,’ I insist when Bryn blushes. ‘But that sounds like fun. Are all of y’all going along?’
They all confirm, all except for Oliver. He doesn’t say a word, just keeps on strumming his guitar. Maybe he’s shy. Musical, literary, beautiful and shy. Did I bang my head harder than I thought? If this is a dream, I’m more than okay with it.
‘Even if it wasn’t the only place we ever go, tonight’s the first night of Freshers’ Week,’ Jenna assures me. ‘Everyoneon campus will be there.’
It’s good enough for me.
‘I’m in,’ I tell them. ‘I just need to drop my bags off in my room first.’ Sucking the air in through my teeth as I rise to my feet, I pull my toppled-over suitcases upright and lean on the handles like crutches. ‘Do any of y’all know the quickest way to Carpenter House?’
Alice raises a hand. ‘I should, I’ve lived there for two years. Which floor are you on?’
‘Third floor, flat A?’
‘Third floor, flat B. You’re right across the hall from me,’ she says, clapping happily. ‘Don’t bother with the map, it’s easy. Stay on this path all the way around that big building over there, that’s Goldbeck, then turn right and keep going until you get to the halls. You can’t miss them; there are loads of signposts and that for move-in day. They’ve literally put the flags out.’
‘But don’t take too long,’ Michael warns me. ‘I’ve been stone-cold sober all day long and that’s unacceptable for the first day back. Members opens in fifteen minutes, consider your countdown clock started.’
Everyone laughs except Oliver, who only smiles, still watching me so intently I can almost feel his close gaze underneath my clothes, lingering on my skin like a kiss.
