“We could never do this at my old school.”
“Where was your old school?” Sam asked.
“A pinpoint town on a map, called Bozeman.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s way up north in Monta….”
“Oh my God, he is so gorgeous…” squealed a nearby voice.
I barely controlled my groan. Great. The gossip hounds were back and they were obviously still talking about the new intern.
Sam laughed at the look on my face. “I see you’ve met our Lush Trio,” she said in a low voice.
I let out a loud unexpected snort of laughter. My burst momentarily snagged the attention of the trio. They turned and glared at me for a moment, like I was unworthy to interrupt their conversation.
“Lush Trio, that’s perfect,” I told Sam in a quieter voice.
“It fits them to a tee. They are always discussing some guy or texting each other pictures of some guy that grabs their attention.”
I looked over and sure enough, they were huddled around one of their phones, obviously looking at the picture of the Hot Intern. I was surprised they had their cell phones out. In my old school, cell phones had to stay in your book bag all day with the ringer off. If a teacher saw your phone out, or heard it ringing, they would confiscate it.
I commented on this to Sam. “Oh they tried to set the same rules here, but after a few angry calls from some of the parents, the Dean changed his mind. You’re still supposed to have them off during class time, but nobody listens, they just turn the volume down.”
“My mom would have a stroke if she caught me ogling a teacher or an intern,” I said a little louder than intended.
My remark gained the attention of the trio once again.
Sam and I snorted at the trio’s obvious disgust as they stalked away. I was definitely not winning any brownie points with them.
After the trio’s departure, Sam and I talked about trivial things. Favorite books, movies, and other likes and dislikes. We were amazed at the many ways we were alike, and joked that we could be long lost twins, separated at birth.
“I’d buy it if we looked even remotely alike,” Sam quipped.
She had a point. I was nearly 5’ 8” almost 7” taller than her. Not to mention the fact that she was cute and petite and looked like she belonged on some football field, cheering her team on. Plus, she had movie star brown hair that swung from her shoulder like an advertisement for a shampoo commercial. Her skin glowed from a natural tan, which helped to accentuate her warm brown eyes. If she was taller, she would have made a great model. I felt extremely plain, just standing next to her.
The bell rang as we finished our lunch. Tossing our trash in a wooden trash barrel, we headed toward our fifth period class. We would finally meet the much talked about young male intern that had all the girls buzzing throughout the school.
Sam and I choose seats together. Sam pulled out her book while I took out a notebook.
This was my first world history class, and I was looking forward to it. I was a secret history buff and enjoyed learning about other countries. My mom and I often watched the History channel together at night.
I looked over at Sam to ask her a question, but she was already engrossed in her book. Deciding not to interrupt her, I pulled out a pen and started doodling in the margin of my paper.
I knew the instant the new intern walked in the door. Every girl except for Sam and I seemed to sigh. “Oh brother,” I muttered without looking up.
Sam stifled a snigger as she continued to read, she had also heard the sigh of adoration from all the girls.
“All right, no books needed today. Instead, we’re going to do a warm up exercise to get to know each other,” said a warm masculine voice.
Chapter 3
I looked up in surprise; the voice seemed so familiar. I raised my eyes and found them locked on the warmest brown eyes I had ever seen. They were like pools of hot melted chocolate. I felt like I was swimming in them. Finally pulling my eyes away from his, I scanned the rest of his face. All the girls were right; he was the most handsome man I had ever seen. His lips were full and inviting with cheekbones just high enough for his perfectly chiseled face to give him a gentle ruggedness. I wondered if his golden honey colored skin was as soft and warm as it looked. His light auburn hair was just long enough to run my fingers through.
Wait a minute. This is a teacher, well, almost a teacher but still, to be sitting here daydreaming about touching his skin and running my fingers through his hair? What was wrong with me? I have never looked at another guy like this, and here I was fantasizing about my teacher. Except that, he didn’t look like a typical teacher. He looked only slightly older than the students sitting in his class. I knew that was no excuse, but I was desperately trying to justify my strange reaction to him.
I looked down at my desk to regain my dignity, and then glanced over at Sam, who gave me a puzzled look. She seemed to sense that something was going on. I looked away so Sam could not read my face.