8. Kennedy

“Is this seat taken?”

The tall guy inquiring looks familiar but I’m not sure from where.

“I have no idea,” I say.

“Well, now it is.” He smiles.

Today I’m starting my freshman seminar class. It’s a relatively large class compared to my other ones and they’re holding it in the smaller auditorium in the Sol Pueblo building.

I notice that there are students already bonded in small cliques buzzing on about the things that college students talk about..primarily partying.

Pepper and Minka are sophomores and wouldn’t be in this class. Since I don’t know anyone else, I take a seat in one of the back rows to avoid having to make small talk with any strangers until someone takes the seat next to me.

“I’m Lorenzo,” the guy introduces himself.

“Hi.”

“Have we met before?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t live in The Pink?”

One of the main freshman dorms on campus is an adobe-styled, pink-hued building that students have aptly nicknamed The Pink.

“No, not me.”

He shuffles in his seat, probably uncomfortable because his frame is too big for the average-sized chair.

“Are you an athlete?” I try not to laugh as he wedges himself in.

“I am,” he answers proudly. “I play baseball.”

“I didn’t know athletics was such a big deal at VCU. I swear I’ve met more athletes since I’ve arrived than regular students.”

“Yeah, like who?”

“I saw a bunch on Decision Day on the yard, then at the crawl.”

“Oh yeah,” he chuckles softly. “The infamous decision day scuffle with those hockey dirtbags.”

Suddenly, a hush fills the auditorium. Several guys with large sports sacks wearing black basketball shorts and VCU Sun t-shirts enter the room in a collective cloud of swagger, and Shane is one of them.

“Speak of the devil,” Lorenzo says under his breath.

There are boys who are hot, guys who are sexy, and then there’s Shane.

He”s breathtakingly beautiful, with the facial features of a supermodel and the body of a Greek god. And while I admired his good looks under the soft lighting of The Pike the other night, I can’t believe that he’s even hotter under the harsh lights of the auditorium.

He’s got one of those square jaws that looks like it is made of molten steel, a nose so perfectly crooked that I wonder if he was born with it or if it was shaped from a careful whack of a hockey stick, and those eyes. Don’t get me started on those mismatched eyes the size of saucers, one a Caribbean blue and the other a moss green. I’ve never seen anything like them or like him, and I bet neither has anyone else in this room.

It’s probably good that he didn’t ask for my phone number the other night; I try convincing myself. The way every girl is drooling over him inside this auditorium would drive me insane. I’m not interested in a romance with a high-profile campus athlete. I don’t want jealous girls whispering about me whenever I walk by. I’m not built for it.

I try burying myself in the distraction of an online word game to keep my eyes off Shane, but it doesn’t matter once I hear his familiar voice—dangerously deep like the ocean and close by.

“I told you I’d find you,” he says, with that unmistakable velvet-smooth voice.

I try not to be affected by it, but when I slowly raise my head and find everyone within a few feet of my seat, including Lorenzo, staring directly at the two of us– I feel like an odd fish in an observation tank.

“I don’t think you found me in a required course we’re both registered for.”

“Actually, I think it’s kismet.”

I shake my head, blowing off his over-the-top, flirty banter.

“Why are you sitting all the way back here?” he asks me.

“I’m not a sit-at-the-front-of-the-class type of girl,” I respond with a careful smile.

“Neither am I, but damn, it’s going to take us forever to get out of here when class is over.”

Us.

“You weren’t kidding about knowing a lot of athletes, huh?” Lorenzo suddenly interrupts, nudging me with an elbow. Hell, I forgot for a moment that he was even sitting there.

“I see you’ve met more of my kind since I saw you last.” Shane drops his heavy duffle with a thud and gives Lorenzo a disapproving once-over.

“What’s up, man?” Lorenzo introduces himself. “We met a few weeks ago in the cafeteria. I’m Lorenzo Perez. Suns baseball.”

“Oh, right. I knew you looked familiar. New right fielder from Connecticut?”

“Yeah,” Lorenzo looks impressed. “That’s me. I see you’ve looked me up.”

“I’m interested in all VCU sports, not just the best one,” Shane smirks.

“Funny.”

There’s a lot of low student chatter in the air, but now that the professor and her teaching assistant have entered the room, things will soon simmer down.

“Why don”t you sit closer to the door if you need to leave early?” I whisper to Shane, ineffectively trying to shoo him away and divert his attention from me.

“Are you trying to get rid of me already? I wanted to sit next to a familiar face,” he grins, and it’s hard not to reciprocate the sentiment– his smile is so infectious.

A girl sitting in front of us, munching on a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips, suddenly turns her head, bats her fake eyelashes, and inserts herself into our conversation.

“Excuse me, but I just wanted to say hi, Shane. I”m Lisa.”

Admittedly, Lisa is drop-dead gorgeous. Her skin is flawless, her boobs are huge and even without her standing up I can already see that she has a lot of junk in her trunk–but damn, sis’. I’m sitting right here.

It’s not that I care if they talk or anything, but I think it’s rude for her to interrupt my conversation with Shane…not to mention her breath stinks and snacks aren’t allowed in the auditorium anyway.

“Hey, Lisa, nice to meet you,” he responds politely.

“I just wanted to say I’m a big hockey fan, and I look forward to seeing what you’re going to bring to the ice this season.”

Funny how this Lisa girl doesn”t even bother to acknowledge my existence on this planet, much less introduce herself. Nice to meet you too, potato chip girl. I guess that’s par for the course on a small campus with sixty percent women and a team of hot hockey players.

“Thanks, I appreciate that,” he replies.

“I’ve been following your career since you were at Pineboro Academy,” she adds as if he’s enjoying all the smoke she’s blowing up his ass.

Well, maybe he is.

I’ve never seen him grin this hard.

“And I look forward to seeing you in the stands, beautiful.”

What in the actual fuck?

Didn’t he call me that same lame nickname at The Pike where he kissed me?

What a jackass.

Practically glowing at this point, the Lisa girl turns around and whispers something in her girlfriend”s ear.

It’s no wonder that athletes treat girls like garbage because look at how we act. What’s he even done to deserve all that “you’re the greatest” energy from her? She doesn”t even know him, not even a little bit, and clearly, neither do I.

He may be easy on the eyes and a damn good kisser, but he’s just like every other guy led primarily by their egos and often by their dicks. He just knows how to mask it better.

“Did you have fun at the rest of the bar crawl the other night?” Shane turns his attention back to me, sitting on my other side.

“It was all right,” I say cooly.

“Just all right?”

“Yep.”

“You didn”t have fun meeting me at least?” he baits.

I’m unsure if this is Shane”s default, and he can’t help himself or what. Is he actually flirting with me after doing the same thing two seconds ago with Lisa?

“I appreciated you getting the drinks for me, but I wouldn’t say meeting you was fun. It was what it was.”

Clearly listening to our entire exchange, Lorenzo then lets out a heavy chuckle, probably somewhat exaggerated for Shane’s benefit. I can tell Shane is annoyed when his eyes darken, but then, just as quickly, a mask of indifference drops across his face.

“I guess I recalled the night somewhat differently.”

“I guess you did.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Valencia City University’s freshman seminar!” the professor announces, and the room quiets completely.

I pull out my small notebook and pen to get ready to take notes.

“My name is Dr. Williams, and I will be your guide over the next twelve weeks. This is not a lecture-style class; it is a collaborative one, which means that we won’t meet in this large group again until the end of the semester, when it’s time for your presentations.”

“Presentations?” Someone echoes.

“That’s right. I will break you up into smaller groups, and it will be your job to research and present on a particular topic meaningful to your experience as a student on this campus with your partners. You’ve paid a lot of money to be in the seat you’re in, and it’s my job to make sure that you get the best bang for your buck, so let’s get started. Your groups will consist of seven to ten people, and you have ten minutes to form them, starting now.”

“You’re the most interesting girl I’ve met since I came here,” Lorenzo tells me. “Let’s form a group together.”

I’m far from interesting, but I agree to it. “Sure, I’ll work with you.”

Shane leans over and says, “I’m in, too.”

“Uh, cool.” Lorenzo subtly turns his lips up.

Then potato chip girl turns around.

“Can we be in your group too, Shane?”

“It’s up to our group leader.” He looks over at me and waits for a response.

“Me?” I say incredulously, placing a mortified hand on my chest. “Who said I’m the project leader?”

“You seem the most prepared,” he says, gesturing toward my notebook.

“Because I have paper and a pen?”

“I can always help lead if you need it,” she says, and it gets under my skin.

“No, I’ve got it,” I say.

We add another two girls and form a solid group of seven by the time Dr. Williams turns off her timer.

“I’m already seeing the beauty of the collaborative process begin. Please refer to your online syllabus for a list of project ideas. By the end of the day, I expect you to email Corrine, my TA, with the names of your group and your three top project ideas. Feel free to stay here until the end of class to work on that email with your new best friends. I look forward to seeing what you come up with.”

I sit in stunned silence as the reality of my new situation sinks in. I will spend the next twelve weeks working on a project with Shane, the guy whose kiss I’ve been replaying repeatedly in my head. The guy who finds me completely interchangeable with potato chip girl and probably every other girl on this campus.

What a clusterfuck.

As the group begins to discuss potential project ideas, I can”t help but feel a sense of dread. Shane”s presence is already a distraction, his occasional glances racing my heart. I”m torn between my desire to maintain a reasonable distance and the undeniable attraction I feel towards the jerk who casually flirts with girls like it’s his damn job.

Lorenzo and the others seem oblivious to my tension, enthusiastically throwing out topic suggestions for our project. I try to focus, jotting down notes in my notebook. Still, Shane”s proximity is unsettling, and the way Lisa continually throws herself at him while we’re trying to complete actual work is nauseating.

“Are practices open to the public, Shane? I’d love to stop by.”

“Sure, the rink is always open, especially for a fan.”

Give me a fucking break.

As class ends, we exchange contact information and agree to meet later in the week to finalize our three project choices. I pack up my things, eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere, when Shane calls after me, “Kennedy, wait up.”

I hesitantly turn around, my expression guarded. ”What is it?”

“Are we good?” he says, his eyes softly searching mine.

I feel a flutter in my stomach, but I push it aside. “Yeah, we’re fine.”

“I mean I know we didn’t get to talk as much as I would have liked at the crawl but–”

“Let”s just focus on the project, okay?”

“Sure.” Shane nods, a hint of disappointment in his gaze. “I’ll see you at the meeting.”

“Cool.”

I hurry out of the auditorium, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. I”ve wanted to see Shane ever since the crawl. I would scan campus, hoping to run into him casually and somehow strike up a conversation. But now that I’m seeing the real him and we”re thrust into a situation that requires collaboration, I’m not too sure how I’m going to handle the next twelve weeks which is why I spend the next twelve hours trying to figure out a way to get out of it.