It’s not until the object of my stalking walks through the doorway that I consider maybe my crazy mother was right. I quickly realize how insane that would make me for believing her and force myself to stop thinking like my mother. I’ve always been more levelheaded than both my parents, and I want to hold onto the trait.
Tearing my attention away from him, I lean over to grab my textbook and a pen out of my bag. When I sit up, I’m surprised to find he’s taken the desk right next to mine.
Up close, he’s even better looking, but there’s a hint of nervousness in his eyes that I didn’t notice while looking through the lens, which is kind of strange. Usually, I see more when I’m taking pictures. Or maybe he was just happier when he was around his friend.
“Hey,” he greets me with a slightly nervous smile.
“Hey.” I rack my brain for something to say that won’t make me sound awkward, but he beats me to the punch.
“I’m Seth,” he says, extending his hand to me.
“Greyson.” I take his hand, noting it shakes a little in mine. “Is this your first class?”
“For the fall semester, yeah.”
“You’re not a freshman?”
“No, I am,” he replies. “I just started the year this summer.”
I smile, and decide to flirt a little, see where it goes. “So you should be a pro at classes by now.”
“You would think so,” he muses. “But I’m not a fan of school and being a fantastic student is at the bottom of my list, right between getting a good night’s rest and becoming friends with my slobbish roommate.”
“You live in the dorm?” I ask and he nods. “I actually thought about doing that, but my parents insisted I need a place of my own. That it’s good for my aura.”
His brow cocks. “Aura?”
“Yeah, they’re a little crazy like that, but in a good way.” I try to pick up on the vibe he’s giving. Is he just being friendly? Or is he interested in me?
I watch as his eyes trail down over my neck and chest, suddenly realizing that we’re still holding hands. Definitely a bit awkward, but in a good way. And that means he’s interested, right?
When his gaze reaches our joined hands, he startles and quickly pulls away. I catch a flash of alarm in his eyes as he scans the room before looking back at me.
He clears his throat. “So, you just moved here?”
I wonder why he’s acting so weird suddenly. Maybe I misread his interest. Doubtful, though, so what is it? “Yeah, from Florida.”
His eyes snap wide. “Holy shit. How the hell did you end up going from the sunshine state to cowboy central?”
“Is Wyoming cowboy central? I thought that was Texas?”
“Clearly, you haven’t been around when the fair rolls in. It’s like rodeo central. Nothing but cowboy hats, boots, and ridiculously tight pants as far as the eye can see.”
“Sounds… interesting, I guess.”
“Try horrifying. Some of the stuff I’ve seen through those tight jeans,” he shudders, “still haunts my nightmares.”
I laugh at him and he grins, obviously pleased with himself. Like how he was with the girl earlier, he seems to enjoy making people laugh.
I consider what my mom said about finding friends and going out on dates. He’s hot, nice, and funny. As long as I can keep the conversation going and find the right moment, I might ask him out. Get myself out of the damn rut I’ve been in.
“So, I was thinking…” I trail off as a larger guy wearing a jersey sits down in the desk in front of me and Seth swiftly turns away from the conversation.
He focuses on getting a pen and a book from his bag, then spends the next two minutes staring at his arm with his back angled towards me.
I spend the rest of class taking notes and mentally replaying my conversation with Seth, wondering what I said that scared him off. When class ends, he hurries out the door so quickly you’d think the room was on fire.
I try my best to stop stressing about what went wrong with Seth and focus on school and meeting new people. I have one of two photography classes today and end up chatting with Jenna and Ari, a quirky couple who share my same passion for photos. Jenna kind of reminds me of my mom in the sense that she seems to teeter between reality and dreamland.
“Oh, my God,” she says as the three of us walk out of class together. “You know what this means right?”
I exchange a look with Ari, who shrugs.
“We don’t know what on earth your excitement could possibly mean,” he says, draping an arm around Jenna’s shoulder. “But please, do tell because we’re dying to know.”
Her eyes light up with excitement as she tucks a stand of purple hair behind her ear. “It means that my dream came true, which means my wish of being psychic came true.”
“Dream?” I ask, intrigued. “Do tell me about this dream.”
“It was about meeting you,” she explains as we slowly move down the crammed hallway. “Before we started school here, I had a dream that we were going to meet someone who would become our friend.”
“Jenna wants to be a psychic,” Ari explains as he steers her toward the doors. “It’s all she’s talked about since she was twelve.”
“You sound like my mother,” I tell her as we push through the doors and step outside. “She’s really into that stuff. And tarot cards.”