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Authors: T.A Richards Neville
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resistance. I think you might just end up with something great. Maybe you more than Julian. That kid doesn’t listen, he’s a law unto himself.” Marcus shook his head from the thought.
“Are you telling me that you are going to make me work with him?”
“You make excellent partners. Where’s the fun in pairing with someone who will make everything easy and reads like cardboard? Earn your grade, Angel. Everything’s better when you work for it; when you’ve truly earned it.”
I sighed in disappointment. “You are such a teacher.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“Are you sure you couldn’t move some things around, persuade someone to switch with me?” I would do it myself but having zero bond with anyone else in the class made the mission that much more difficult.
“If things get really bad and you’re banging your head against a brick wall, you know where I am. I’ll help you get it on paper. Trust me, this is an easy A.”
I sucked in an angry breath. “Easy for you to say.”
I was truly disheartened leaving the university. But then I was struck with sheer brilliance. If Marilyn saw Julian as a walking sex-god, then how many other girls did? Even I hadn’t failed to miss the attraction before he ruined it by opening his mouth. It might not be has hard as I thought, getting someone to switch with me. If anything, it was worth a shot, and I couldn’t really not try. Failing classes wasn’t something I enrolled for.
When my phone chimed displaying Jordan’s name, my school problems instantly ebbed. His name alone was enough for a lightweight smile to touch my lips.
Jordan: I’m outside your dorm. Think we could talk?
Me: Pick me up outside the university on Blvd.
Jordan pulled up five minutes later in his black Volkswagen Golf. He clicked the right turn signal to get back into the road. “You wanna go get a drink?”
I looked at him, siting relaxed in his hoody and jeans. His dark hair was cut shorter, slicked back and the tidiest I had ever seen it. He looked a lot more put together than he usually did—he had never been seen in anything other than sweats—but he looked good and he smelled phenomenal. I always loved his cologne, it was clean and fresh and whenever I caught the same stolen scent from someone else, I would immediately think of him. I loved it so much I would happily bathe in the damn stuff.
“Where you wanna go?” he asked, flashing me a quick glance.
“Uh…” I knew Boston as well as I knew the solar system. Jordan knew it better than me, he was raised here. “Anywhere. I don’t care.”
We pulled up outside of Marnie’s Coffee House and found a table at the front, looking out into the street. Jordan sat down with a strawberry milkshake for me and a caramel Frappuccino for him. Jordan could eat the whole of McDonalds and his physique wouldn’t bend an inch out of shape.
I’d crashed as soon as I was hauled from Kit’s party, leaving no time for the story of how Jordan ended up sitting across from me at the worst party in all of history. I was wide awake and all ears now, though. “Why were you there last night?” I asked. Honestly, Jordan’s appearance was more than a little strange. Going out of his way for me was not the norm.
“I missed you.”
“So you left your friends because you missed me?”
“Yeah. That so hard to believe?”
I sipped on my milkshake, allowing brain freeze to take hold. “Uh, yeah. It is.” I reached for his hand. It was strong and big in mine and my stomach rolled in waves of ridiculous bliss.
What happened last night was on the tip of my tongue, but fighting with him was never a sport I liked to get into. He didn’t either, because anytime one started between us he stepped out of it with a calmness that was both admirable and fucking annoying, and left me alone to stew in the unsettled debate. That was why I was so surprised to see him here now, twice in two days. Effort and relationship were two things Jordan
“Are you telling me that you are going to make me work with him?”
“You make excellent partners. Where’s the fun in pairing with someone who will make everything easy and reads like cardboard? Earn your grade, Angel. Everything’s better when you work for it; when you’ve truly earned it.”
I sighed in disappointment. “You are such a teacher.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“Are you sure you couldn’t move some things around, persuade someone to switch with me?” I would do it myself but having zero bond with anyone else in the class made the mission that much more difficult.
“If things get really bad and you’re banging your head against a brick wall, you know where I am. I’ll help you get it on paper. Trust me, this is an easy A.”
I sucked in an angry breath. “Easy for you to say.”
I was truly disheartened leaving the university. But then I was struck with sheer brilliance. If Marilyn saw Julian as a walking sex-god, then how many other girls did? Even I hadn’t failed to miss the attraction before he ruined it by opening his mouth. It might not be has hard as I thought, getting someone to switch with me. If anything, it was worth a shot, and I couldn’t really not try. Failing classes wasn’t something I enrolled for.
When my phone chimed displaying Jordan’s name, my school problems instantly ebbed. His name alone was enough for a lightweight smile to touch my lips.
Jordan: I’m outside your dorm. Think we could talk?
Me: Pick me up outside the university on Blvd.
Jordan pulled up five minutes later in his black Volkswagen Golf. He clicked the right turn signal to get back into the road. “You wanna go get a drink?”
I looked at him, siting relaxed in his hoody and jeans. His dark hair was cut shorter, slicked back and the tidiest I had ever seen it. He looked a lot more put together than he usually did—he had never been seen in anything other than sweats—but he looked good and he smelled phenomenal. I always loved his cologne, it was clean and fresh and whenever I caught the same stolen scent from someone else, I would immediately think of him. I loved it so much I would happily bathe in the damn stuff.
“Where you wanna go?” he asked, flashing me a quick glance.
“Uh…” I knew Boston as well as I knew the solar system. Jordan knew it better than me, he was raised here. “Anywhere. I don’t care.”
We pulled up outside of Marnie’s Coffee House and found a table at the front, looking out into the street. Jordan sat down with a strawberry milkshake for me and a caramel Frappuccino for him. Jordan could eat the whole of McDonalds and his physique wouldn’t bend an inch out of shape.
I’d crashed as soon as I was hauled from Kit’s party, leaving no time for the story of how Jordan ended up sitting across from me at the worst party in all of history. I was wide awake and all ears now, though. “Why were you there last night?” I asked. Honestly, Jordan’s appearance was more than a little strange. Going out of his way for me was not the norm.
“I missed you.”
“So you left your friends because you missed me?”
“Yeah. That so hard to believe?”
I sipped on my milkshake, allowing brain freeze to take hold. “Uh, yeah. It is.” I reached for his hand. It was strong and big in mine and my stomach rolled in waves of ridiculous bliss.
What happened last night was on the tip of my tongue, but fighting with him was never a sport I liked to get into. He didn’t either, because anytime one started between us he stepped out of it with a calmness that was both admirable and fucking annoying, and left me alone to stew in the unsettled debate. That was why I was so surprised to see him here now, twice in two days. Effort and relationship were two things Jordan
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