“Perfect. I’m starved. What’d you get me?”
“The Chinese here sucks so we got waffle fries and chicken sandwiches,” Hayley explains, taking her seat.
I sip on my drink and ignore the way Killian is glowering at me as he shoves some fries into his big jerk mouth.
“Everyone ready for tomorrow?” I ask in a half-assed attempt to lighten the mood.
“Not even. I hate going to class,” Hayley grumbles, appearing depressed at the thought of attending classes tomorrow.
“I told you not to take anything early morning, babe,” Liam tells her and dips his fry in mayo, and I gag. “Don’t hate, Liri. It’s good. I thought all girls like to swallow.” he chuckles, and I know my face must be beet red.
“Shut up, she’s a virgin,” Hayley announces for the whole food court to hear. Her hand immediately flies to her mouth, and I sink down in my seat to hide my face. I can feel everyone looking at me, especially Killian.
“What?” Liam says oblivious to the coughs and laughter. “I think it’s cool. Liri’s a good girl. Nothing wrong with that.” He bites into his sandwich.
Hayley touches my arm. “I’m sorry,” she mouths.
I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not ashamed of being a virgin.” I look at Killian and lift my chin proudly. He doesn’t say anything or if he does it is low enough, I don’t hear, but I can feel his eyes on me as I sink my teeth into my sandwich. Juice and sauce from the chicken drips down my chin and I laugh. He hurriedly flings a napkin at me.
Chapter 6
Liri
When I take my seat in the lecture hall for my Creative Writing Class, the last person I expect to see sliding into the seat next to mine is Killian. I do my best to hide my shock behind the curtain of my hair. Does he even have this class or is he here to drive me crazy?
“Aren’t you going to say hello?” His voice grates over every cell in my body. Heat flames across my chest and licks up my neck.
“Hello,” I say robotically, and he laughs. “You want to be a writer?”
“Naw. Just saw you coming in here and thought I’d see how your first day is going.”
“What?” I blink and stare at him as the other students start entering the room.
“So, how’s it going?”
“Fine. How’s your day?”
“It’d be a lot better if you’d go to lunch with me.” He winks.
“You have something wrong with your eye?” I tease.
He wipes his finger over the crease. “No.”
I grin and the professor enters to start class.
“Lunch?” he presses.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think too hard.” He slides back out of the seat and leaves.
What the hell was that? My pulse hammers in my ears. Professor Larson is speaking, but I haven’t heard a word she has said, but thankfully I already have the class syllabus.
The class passes by fairly easy. She dives right into a discussion about finding our voice. Our first assignment is to write a historical letter in first person. We are to choose a significant event in history and write about it by letter as though we experienced it firsthand. We have two weeks to complete the assignment. I scan over some of the suggested events and cross off the ones I think I wouldn’t find interesting. I’ll need to go to the library later to do some research first. Sure, I could look stuff up online, but there are some things that can only be learned through a book.
When my writing class ends Woodrow and Ben are waiting in the hall for me. “Liri, hey,” Woodrow greets me and grabs my messenger bag to carry before I can protest.
“Hi. Ben, right?”