I open my mouth, ready to tell him to fuck off when a pair of honey colored eyes flashes through my mind.
3.Madelyn
As luck would have it,I stumbled across the cutest little coffee shop on my way to class. The scent of freshly brewed espresso and baked bread had my mouth watering, and I couldn’t help but stop inside. Thankfully, I still had enough time to grab some coffee and breakfast after crashing into Miles this morning.
Miles.
Just thinking about his name makes my stomach twist in the most delicious way. No matter how hard I try to focus on anything else, my mind keeps circling back to him. How his body was a solid wall of muscle when I walked into him, the heat of his body, and those tattoos.
God, those tattoos. They were almost impossible to ignore. The dark ink crawled up his neck, disappearing beneath the cotton of his shirt, leaving just enough hidden to send my imagination spiraling. I wondered how far they traveled, my mind eagerly filling in the blanks as it traces invisible lines beneath black fabric.
With my bain stuck somewhere between lust and fantasy, I nearly trip on my way to my seat.
Way to go, Maddie. That would totally be a great first impression—eating shit in front of the whole class.
My first lecture is English, which I’m very much looking forward to since it’s always been one of my best subjects. I choose a seat in the middle of the room, not wanting to sit too close to the front and appear overly enthusiastic, and set up my desk with everything I think I’ll need.
A cute girl with long bleach-blonde curls and bronze skin sits next to me and excitedly introduces herself.
“Hey! I’m Kaitlin. I hope you don’t mind me sitting next to you.”
I smile at her, trying to appear friendly. “No, of course not. I’m Madelyn, but you can call me Maddie.”
“Oh, what a pretty name! I used to know a girl in high school named Maddie, she was a total bitch, though.” We laugh and I can already tell I’m going to like her.
Meeting and making friends has never been my strong suit. All the assholes back home gave me terrible social anxiety, convincing me that people should just be avoided in general. I know I give off awkward energy, which makes people stay away from me too, and I honestly prefer it that way. Kaitlin seems extremely bubbly and quirky, the complete opposite of myself, so maybe this is the kind of friend I need in my life.
My own personal extrovert.
Since moving to town a couple months ago I haven’t met any new people, not that I’ve really tried. I mean, I guess there’s Gabby, but I hardly see her anyway. The few things I’ve managed to put together are she stays out extremely late every night and she almost never talks—to me at least. She must love scary movies, because her side of the room is plastered with movie posters.
One of the posters is of theExorcist, which is perfectly aligned facing my bed and gives me the creeps. Nothing like waking up in the middle of the night and staring into the face of bright green eyes and a creepy smile. And don’t even get mestarted on when she falls asleep with one of those movies still playing on her laptop. Talk about night terrors.
“Shit, somehow I knew I would forget something on the first day of class,” Kaitlin says, ruffling through her bag. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have a pen, would you?”
“Yeah,” I laugh. “I have a weird paranoia of never being prepared for things, so I always make sure to have extras. You can keep that one.”
“Oh, so you mean like me?” She teases with a giggle, accepting the pen. “Thank you so much!
“You’re welcome,” I say, returning her smile.
Kaitlin immediately flips to the front page in her notebook and begins doodling. Within seconds, her name is written across the top in bubbly letters surrounded by tiny stars, hearts, and flowers. I bite back a laugh as she adds even more swirls around her name.
“You know, I don’t think anyone’s going to forget your name if it’s taking up half the page,” I tease.
She gasps dramatically and places a hand over her heart. “It’s called artistic expression.”
I laugh and settle back in my seat, going back to what I was doing before she got here.
“Hey, there’s a party this Friday,” she says, twirling the pen between her fingers. “It’s kind of like a ‘Back to School’ thing. I really wanted to go, but I haven’t made any friends yet, and I don’t want to show up alone.”
She glances at me hopefully.
“Would you want to come with me?”
A party?
Absolutely not.
