Nope, didn’t imagine it.
Most of the seats in the auditorium are taken, but a group of girls up front are calling his name, and Adam goes to sit with them. The girl who came in with him sits down on his lap and wraps her arms around his neck, giggling like she’s oblivious to the stares of everyone else in the room. What the hell is he doing here?
With my eyes still on the back of Adam’s head, I ask Leti, “Adam Everest goes to school here?”
“Hence the welcome party in the hall,” Leti answers, and then his chin comes to rest on the heel of his palm. He stares dreamily at the boy who just had his hands all over me less than forty-eight hours ago and sighs. “I had French 101 with him last year.”
“Why?” I ask. When he shoots me a confused glance, I clarify, “I mean, why is he taking classes?”
Leti shrugs. “I have no idea, but I’m definitely not complaining.”
When our professor walks in, the chick on Adam’s lap is forced to find a seat in the row behind him because the girls he sat with didn’t save her a seat. Is she his girlfriend? Does he have a girlfriend?
“I’m Dr. Pullman,” says our professor, a tall, bald man who I can’t imagine smiling even if his life depended on it. “This class isn’t going to be easy. You’re going to have homework. A lot of it.” A girl next to Adam giggles at something Adam said, and the professor shoots her a nasty look. She immediately bites her tongue, and he continues. “I have a strict attendance policy. I expect you to turn your cell phones off at the door. If you treat me with respect, I’ll treat you with respect. Now, how many of you bothered to go online and print out our syllabus?”
Only a handful of people raise their hands. Adam isn’t one of them, and neither am I. Even though I did go online and print it out, I don’t want to draw attention to myself.
Dr. Pullman sighs. “Well, it’s there if you want to take a look. Make sure to review it before you come to me whining with complaints about my class. If you don’t want to be here, you have until next week to drop and still get a refund. As you can see,” he waves his hand across the room, “I’ll have a very full workload with or without you.” He goes to the side of the room and opens up a laptop, starting the projector. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
But there is no way in hell I’m going to be able to pay attention with the girl sitting next to Adam periodically lifting her fingers to comb them through the soft brown hair at the nape of his neck. I know how soft that hair is. My fingertips remember, and I’m having serious trouble not breaking my pencil in half and throwing the lethal pieces at her.
When class ends, Adam is the first one out of his seat and through the door. Leti nudges me with his elbow.
“Jealous much?”
“Huh?” I try and fail to act nonchalant as we pack our bags.
“If looks could kill, I swear there’d be three dead groupie tramps laying up there,” he says with a teasing smile.
“I’m not jealous.”
I’m so jealous. I’m jealous of the very thing I turned down less than two days ago, even though I know I made the right choice. I had just gotten out of a relationship, for God’s sake. Like less than five minutes before I met Adam. And he’s obviously a playboy—which may have been what I needed at that moment, but it’s not what I need long term. Whatever this is that I’m feeling, I need to get over it.
Leti smirks at me. “If you say so, Ro-Yo.”
As we make our way out of Jackson Hall, he’s complaining about what a hard-ass Dr. Pullman is and what hell the class is going to be. I’m half paying attention to him and half flinging nervous glances down every hallway we pass to make sure I don’t cross paths with Adam.
“Are you always this twitchy?”
I look up at him, frowning. “Am I seriously twitchy?”
“You’re like a cute little chipmunk . . . on crack.”
I laugh and adjust my scarf, making sure it’s still covering the mark Adam left on me. “I guess I’m just still nervous about starting classes. Plus I had way too much caffeine this morning.”
“No such thing!” Leti opens the door for me, his wide smile brightening my mood as he flicks his shades down over his eyes. At a fork in the sidewalk, we slow to a stop. “Hey, I’ll see you on Wednesday?” he asks.
“Yep! See ya, Leti.”
“Ciao, Ro-bot!”