“That’s not true. We’re both from the same town.”
“So? Millions of people live in New York City, but that doesn’t mean they’re all compatible.”
“Fine. We went to the same high school.”
“You’re making my case for me. We went to the same high school and yet our circles never overlapped. What does that tell you?”
“That I was biding my time,” he said, taking off his glasses so he could clean them with his shirt.
My mouth dried, making my next retort die in my throat before it could even emerge. Seeing him without his oversized geek glasses was an instantaneous knee-jerk kind of moment. His blue eyes were even more pronounced without the glare from the lenses. Plus, I was seeing an unobstructed view of his entire face. To say the overall effect was panty dropping would be putting it mildly. Heat moved through my body, latching on to every single nerve ending.
I tried to focus on his last words, but my brain was on vacation on smexy island. I was having a hard time remembering what we were even talking about. I knew I was rejecting him. I just couldn’t remember why.
The buzzing of my cell phone provided the interruption I needed to pull my eyes away from his. “I have to get this,” I said, grabbing my bag and fleeing the library. Thank God for lifelines when you’re about to drown is all I have to say.
I hit the ANSWER button as I pushed the library doors open.
“Hello.”
“Where are you?” Cameo demanded.
“At the library. Why?” Things had been a little tense around our apartment the last few days. Cameo and Derek were still trying to adjust to the new me and the fact that I spent more time lately studying than partying. At least Derek seemed to understand my situation and was handling it better than Cameo. She continued to act like it was something I could fix with a weekend of cramming. As for not going out every other night to drink, she dismissed my new lack of interest as me being too dramatic over David’s death. What she didn’t understand was that I just didn’t see the point of wasting my time here at school. Sure, it took David’s death to make me realize that, but Cameo wasn’t going to change my mind because she called me overly dramatic. Anytime she brought up his name, I would cut her off. It was a taboo subject for me.
“Derek heard there’s an underground party at Phi Beta. We’re going to check it out, so you need to hurry home.”
A week ago those words would have filled me with an almost euphoric feeling. Regular parties were superb on their own, but an underground party was downright killer.
“Are you sure? I thought every frat house was on lockdown. They could get in serious trouble if word gets around.”
I could hear Cameo’s sigh. I didn’t need to see her to know that she was probably making a face at her cell phone. “What do you think underground means? The school’s not going to find out. Are you going with us or not?” She was clearly irritated, but that didn’t mean she had to act like a complete bitch.
Now I was aggravated and never one to respond well to bitchiness. “I’m on academic and extracurricular probation, in case you forgot?” I snapped.
“How could we forget since you like to remind us constantly,” she snipped back. “Are you never going to go to another party, ever?”
I wanted to lash out more, but I bit my tongue. My silence was all the answer she needed. “Fine, suit yourself,” she said, disconnecting the call. Her parting words lacked the bite that she had started with. She sounded more hurt than anything else. Feeling guilty for snapping at her, I put my phone back in my pocket and leaned against the rough brick exterior of the library. I closed my eyes, trying to calm the twisty emotional monster mucking up my brain. What was happening to me? I felt like I was going through some kind of identity crisis.
“Everything okay?”
“Damn it. Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
Trent looked as surprised as I felt. He’s lucky he didn’t get a punch in the throat or a kick in the balls for sneaking up on me like a freaking ninja. “Sorry. I assumed you knew I was there since I was right behind you when you came out here,” he pointed out. “I can’t help it you’re so self-absorbed you missed that part.”
“Self-absorbed? Are you kidding me?”
“What’s wrong?” His eyes cut through me, seeing past my defensiveness.
I glared at him for a moment. I didn’t need any psychoanalysis bullshit. “My roommate is pissed at me, all right?”
“Why?”
“Why do you care? You’re not the Tressa Whisperer. You’re already involved enough in my life as it is.” I turned to walk away.
Trent’s hand reached out, encircling my bicep. It was probably my imagination, but the warmth of his touch traveled through the two layers of clothing I was wearing. Luckily for him, my normal instinct to knee a guy in the balls for handling me that way never surfaced. I chalked it up to the fact that Trent was different because I felt nothing for him.
“Don’t be like that. Tell me why your roommate is pissed. By the way you talk, you two are close. Maybe it’s a simple fix.”
“What makes you think everything can be fixed?” I already knew the answer to my own question. His analytical mind always looked at everything like an equation that could be solved.