I kept my voice low. “I’m not sleeping with you. You should give up, now.”
A slow smile crept across his face before he spoke. “I haven’t asked you sleep with me,” his eyes drifted to the ceiling in thought, “have I?”
“I’m not a Barbie twin or one of your little groupies up there,” I said, glancing at the girls behind us. “I’m not impressed with your tattoos, or your boyish charm, or your forced indifference, so you can stop the antics, okay?”
“Okay, Pigeon.” He was infuriatingly impervious to my rudeness. “Why don’t you come over with America tonight?” I sneered at his request, but he leaned closer. “I’m not trying to bag you. I just wanna hang out.”
“Bag me? How do you ever get laid talking like that?”
Travis burst into laughter, shaking his head. “Just come over. I won’t even flirt with you, I swear.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Professor Chaney strolled in, and Travis turned his attention to the front of the room. A residual smile lingered on his face, making the dimple in his cheek sink in. The more he smiled, the more I wanted to hate him, and yet it was the very thing that made hating him impossible.
“Who can tell me which President had a cross-eyed wife with a bad case of the uglies?” Chaney asked.
“Make sure you get that down,” Travis whispered. “I’m gonna need to know that for job interviews.”
“Sshh,” I said, typing Chaney’s every word.
Travis grinned and relaxed into his chair. As the hour progressed, he alternated between yawning and leaning against my arm to look at my monitor. I made a concentrated effort to ignore him, but his proximity and the muscles bulging from his arm made it difficult. He picked at the black leather band around his wrist until Chaney dismissed us.
I hurried out the door and down the hall. Just when I felt sure I was a safe distance, Travis Maddox was at my side.
“Have you thought about it?” he asked, slipping on his sunglasses.
A petite brunette stepped in front of us, wide-eyed and hopeful. “Hey, Travis,” she lilted, playing with her hair.
I paused, recoiling from her sugary tone, and then walked around her. I’d seen her before, talking normally in the commons area of the girls’ dorm, Morgan Hall. Her tone sounded much more mature, then, and I wondered what it was about a toddler’s voice she thought Travis would find appealing. She babbled in a higher octave for a bit longer until he was next to me once again.
Pulling a lighter from his pocket, he lit a cigarette and blew out a thick cloud of smoke. “Where was I? Oh yeah…you were thinking.”
I grimaced. “What are you talking about?”
“Have you thought about coming over?”
“If I say yes, will you quit following me?”
He considered my stipulation and then nodded. “Yes.”
“Then I’ll come over.”
“When?”
I sighed. “Tonight. I’ll come over tonight.”
Travis smiled and stopped in his tracks. “Sweet. See you then, Pidge,” he called after me.
I rounded the corner to see America standing with Finch outside our dormitory. The three of us ended up at the same table at freshman orientation, and I knew he would be the welcome third wheel to our well-oiled machine. He wasn’t excessively tall, but still he towered over my five feet, four inches. His round eyes offset his long, lean features, and his bleached hair was usually fashioned into a spike at the front.
“Travis Maddox? Jesus, Abby, since when did you start fishing in the deep end?” Finch said with disapproving eyes.
America pulled the gum from her mouth in a long string. “You’re only making it worse by brushing him off. He’s not used to that.”
“What do you suggest I do? Sleep with him?”
America shrugged. “It’ll save time.”
“I told him I’d come over tonight.”
Finch and America traded glances.
“What? He promised to quit bugging me if I said yes. You’re going over there tonight, right?”