AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Depends on what I’m exclaiming over,” he says with a sliver of a smirk.
This boy is impossible. If he were anyone else, the sentence might sound flirtatious, but I’m positive there’s nothing further from the truth.
“You ratted me out to the professor in there, and then the way you—” I have to hold my tongue, reminding myself I can’t get upset for things he did yesterday or the day before.
The day before—when we ran into each other on the way to the Zeta Kappa party and it took a moment for him to remember what he’d said in class.
Just like what happened now.
“The way I what?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. This is the first time we’ve met, right? Why would there be anything else?”
I expect this to confuse him. In a normal world, I imagine it’s not the kind of thing you can say to someone without getting at least a raised eyebrow.
Instead, he looks almost… stricken. Eyebrows pulled together, a strange kind of uncertainty in his eyes. The light pouring in from the bank of windows catches his scar, and I hope he doesn’t think I’m staring at it.
“You’re right, that was uncalled for,” he says. “I was an asshole. I’m sorry.”
Now it’s my turn to be taken aback by the apology. “Oh… okay? I get that you’re a teacher’s pet—I mean, the professor knows your name? On the first day of class?”
The smallest quirk of his mouth. A nano-quirk. Every one of his expressions is a study in subtlety. “Dr. Okamoto is my mother.”
Oh.
“I had no idea.”
“It’s not something I plan to advertise.”
The corridor has cleared out now. Miles leans against the wall, next to a sepia portrait of the first head of the physics department. An old man with a wiry mustache.
There’s something so disarmingly casual about Miles’s stance, I can’t put my finger on it. He even seems to soften, shoulders becoming more relaxed, posture less stiff. Maybe because he’s all sharp edges at first, it’s impossible not to notice the way he retracts those claws.
He toes a dimple in the floor with one forest-green Adidas. “Do you think we could maybe meet up later? Somewhere quieter.” When I open my mouth to protest, he holds up a hand. “I just want to talk. And not about physics.”
The Dawg House is UW’s student-union building, twin bronze husky statues guarding its entrance. A massive purple-and-white banner draped across the front declares WELCOME, STUDENTS! Clubs are tabling on the lawn, and inside, there are a number of restaurants, cafés, and student-activity offices. There’s even a bowling alley in the basement, which I believe is legally required to be mentioned on campus tours.
I pull out my phone to text Miles, realizing too late that we didn’t exchange numbers. We agreed to meet at two thirty—apologies to the hot TA in my English class—and it’s two forty-five when I finally find him, sitting in a booth near a burger place, a basket of mozzarella sticks in front of him.
I give him a small wave as I take a seat across from him, dropping my bag next to me. For the past few hours, I’ve been holed up in a lounge on the Dawg House’s top floor, quietly panicking, trying to plan out my next steps. If Miles were less of an annoyance and more of a dreamboat, maybe I’d regret my hair-and-outfit situation, but I can’t quite bring myself to care about that right now.
“Have you had the mozzarella sticks here?” he asks. “They’re incredible.”
“I’m good.” I let out a shaky breath that does nothing to alleviate my anxiety. “So. Do you want to explain to me what the hell is going on and why you wanted to meet? Because I’m guessing it’s not to make sure I experienced the joy of student-union-building fried food.”
“You tell me,” he says calmly, dipping a mozzarella stick in marinara sauce. “What, exactly, the hell is going on with you?”
He can’t really be asking what I think he’s asking. There’s no way.
“Nothing,” I say. “I’m just peachy. I might even dress up like Kermit the Frog later and run around campus singing ‘Walking on Sunshine’ and throwing glitter at people, haven’t decided yet.”
Ever so slightly, a muscle in his jaw twitches. “So you’re having a good first day, then?”
I heave a sigh, dragging a hand through my hair. “Fine, Miles. It’s been a shitty day so far. Happy? You’re part of the reason for that, but ultimately, I think I can only blame myself.”
“Can you elaborate on that?”
“If you asked me here just to interrogate me, then I should really get started on that Kermit thing—”
