I try my hardest to focus on what Professor Neilson is saying during his lesson about the timeline of art history. I only catch certain phrases like Ancient Rome, Classicism and Romanticism, but am much too distracted. I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to rub my fingers through that messy hair to try and tame it just a little. Heaven’s sake, Aella, get a grip!
“…and learning about the history of art isn’t going to make you popular because you can look at a work hanging in a museum and be able to tell your friends what century it was created in. Yes, the facts and statistics of the physical art are important. But, once you can get into the head of a particular artist and know whether they were in love or feeling anger toward their society or themselves while they painted, you can become a more empathetic human being to the people around you.” The professor’s words make me excited for the semester ahead.
As soon as the professor dismisses us, I head for the door, grateful that I made it through my first college class. I avoid looking around me, not wanting to embarrass myself again and instead I take a right directly into a hard shoulder. Every one of the contents from my book bag spills out across the floor as it hits the hardwood.
I squat down to pick up my things and a masculine voice speaks behind me. “Shoot, I’m so sorry about that. I guess my mind was somewhere else.”
I start to rush out my own apology, but the words are caught in my throat when I see the gorgeous man leaning close to me on the ground. “Feel free to yell and maybe even throw a punch or two. I deserve it.” He is even cuter up close and smells amazing, like old spice and a subtle hint of pine. It reminds me of my nature walks through the forest. He flashes me a sexy grin that shows off that one dimple on his left cheek, effectively stopping my heart mid-beat.
I become aware that I am just staring at him again and not speaking, so I just stumble out the first words that pop into my head. “You’re fine... I mean I’m not going to punch you.” I force a smile that hopefully shows my confidence more than the absolute boy-struck pre-teen hiding beneath it. “Although, it may be a little while before I can forgive you.” Don’t try to flirt, Aella.
He raises an eyebrow at me. “Well then, let me buy you lunch at The Hawk. The food is actually pretty good for campus dining and I am starving all of a sudden.” With my bag put back together, he stands and offers me his hand. Our palms touch and an unusual tingling feeling stretches across my hand. He shows no signs of feeling it too, so I figure it is all in my head.
“Actually, my friend is waiting for me there. We are supposed to have lunch together after class.” I say and he honestly looks a little disappointed, but it is quickly replaced with a shy smile.
He loosens his grip on my hand but doesn’t release me. “Another time then? I’d like to get back in your good graces soon, if possible.”
I shake my head at him with a grin. “You didn’t even know me before we slammed into one another. How will you get back into my good graces?”
He just raises a single shoulder. “Haven’t you ever heard that anything is possible if you try hard enough? How about tomorrow?”
I pause, not wanting him to walk away from me yet. “Or you can join us now if you’d like. We don’t know many people here and more company would be nice.” I stammer the words out before I lose my cool.
He nods and chuckles. “Okay, okay I’ll go. No need to hold me hostage.” he teases, holding my eyes with his unwavering stare and I realize I still haven’t let go of his hand. I quickly pull my hand back and the tingling sensation disappears, instantly making me want to reach out and grab him again.
He takes my bag from me and we head through the campus in comfortable silence to find The Hawk commons. I know the feminist in me should object to his act of chivalry because I am not helpless, but it only warms me on the inside. We enter the dining room and I see Kassy sitting at one of the tables outside, so we make our way over. Her eyebrows rise in surprise when she sees the cute boy walking beside me carrying my bag as if it’s something she has never seen before, which to her credit, is very accurate.
“Hey, El! I’m so glad you found me!” she shouts with a little too much enthusiasm. “Who is your friend?” She openly checks him out, causing me to roll my eyes at her. That girl has no shame.
“This is my best friend in the world, Kassy.” I gesture to my silly friend. “Kass, this is…” Every centimeter of my person freezes with embarrassment when I realize that I have openly flirted with this man and allowed him to carry my bookbag, but I haven’t even asked to know his name. I turn my apologetic eyes toward my handsome companion, not even having to ask the question.
He chuckles deep in his chest, clearly enjoying the show, and extends his hand to hers. “Hey, Kassy. My name is Gavin Cole. Aella invited me to join you, ladies, for lunch if that’s alright.” He flashes his dimple at her and she blushes as she shakes his hand.
Something about his introduction surprises me because I am fairly certain I have not
