REACHING INTO MY BAG FOR MY NOTEBOOK, I let it drop on my desk with a slap and kick back in my chair. It’s the second week of class, but since I decided to ditch the entire first week of class, being that it’s syllabus week and all, I’m still trying to get in the swing of things. Omega Chi is a great fraternity to be in if you want to have fun. If you want to sleep, on the other hand, not so much.
The professor is already scribbling on the whiteboard as more students file in. She’s odd — just as I would expect an art professor to be. She has wild curly hair and paint-stained overalls like she just came off the set of She’s All That. I already know I’ll struggle in this class, but it’s a mandatory course for all Graphic Design majors, so here I am.
I’m debating sneaking in a quick five-minute nap session when Shawna walks through the door to the classroom.
Holy shit.
Sitting up straighter, I watch as her green eyes scan the room from beneath her black frames. Her hair is piled into a messy bun on top of her head and she looks like she just rolled out of bed in her yoga pants and tank top. Still, I feel an uncomfortable pressure in my jeans.
When she spots me, she blinks, almost as if she’s unsure if I’m really there. Then, she smiles, and jogs up the stairs to my desk. I’m about to offer a hello when she throws herself into my lap, kissing me like we’re alone. Her hands are on either side of my face, mine find her hips. If it were any other girl, I’d be weirded out or pissed or both, thinking she was under the impression we were dating just because we fucked. But, oddly enough, I’m completely fine with Shawna kissing me where everyone can see.
“Is this how you say hi where you’re from?” I ask when she pulls back. She giggles and slides into the seat next to mine.
“I was just making sure you were still a good kisser. Sometimes when I’m drunk, I think guys are really great kissers and then they end up letting me down when I’m sober.”
“Well?”
She scrunches her nose. “Yeah, you’re still pretty good.”
I can’t help but smile at her. She’s unlike any girl I’ve ever met before.
“You never called me.”
“Well, you see, in order for me to call you, that would have required you actually leaving your phone number.”
She blushes, but just slightly. “True. Tell you what — I’ll give you my phone number, but you have to take me to dinner after class tonight first.”
“Is that so?”
She grins wider and nods. “Mm hmm. I mean, I probably should have made that a requirement before I let you see my nipple piercings, but I’m not exactly a traditional type of girl.”
“You don’t say.”
We’re both smiling, eying each other, sizing the other one up.
I like this girl.
The professor calls the class’ attention, so I lean over to whisper my response.
“Dinner it is. Where to?”
I’VE NEVER WATCHED A GIRL STUFF a fat, chili and cheese covered hot dog into her mouth before, but it’s oddly arousing. Maybe it’s just because I’m stoked she ordered more than just a salad, but I’m just watching Shawna eat, grinning like an idiot.
“What?” she asks around a mouthful.
I shake my head, dunking a French fry into the ketchup on my plate. “Nothing. I’m just impressed.”
“That I can eat a hot dog? What kind of weirdos do you usually take to dinner?”
“The wrong kind, apparently.”
“So true.”
Shawna winks, wiping her mouth with a napkin and taking a long pull from her soda before propping her elbows up on the table. “So, Clinton Pennington, AKA Bear, AKA birthday boy with a magical tongue — I never would have guessed you were an Art major.”
I cock a brow at her tongue reference. “Graphic Design, actually. Are you an Art major?”
“For now.” She smiles, her cheeks pushing her black frames up her face a bit. “Tell me more about you.”
“There’s not much to tell,” I reply, feeling a bit uncomfortable. I don’t really talk to anyone about myself other than Skyler, and that’s just because she pries it out of me. Watching Shawna’s lips press together, I have a feeling she and Skyler might have a bit more in common than I originally realized.
“Sure there is. What are your hobbies?”
“Sports, weight lifting, drinking, fucking.”
“All the essentials.”
“Exactly.”
“What sports?”
“Football mostly, but I like basketball, too. What about you?” I ask, popping another fry in my mouth and leaning back. The small diner she picked only has five booths and they’re a little too cramped for my liking, but I don’t mind being closer to her.
“I love to draw and paint, and listen to live music.”
“Favorite band?”
“Twenty One Pilots.”
“Nice. I’ve heard a few of their songs.”
“Careful,” she warns me, sucking the fry salt off her fingertip. I’m momentarily distracted by her plump lips. “I’m a pusher. I’ll talk your ear off until I convince you to listen to their album with me and then go to their concert.”
“Hmm… dancing to good music with you all pressed up against me? Sounds terrible. Definitely don’t do that.”
She grins.
“Your turn. What’s with the phoenix?”
Her face scrunches. “How do you know about the… oh.” Shawna blushes a bit when she remembers exactly how I saw the phoenix tattoo on her lower back.
I just grin.
“It’s my only tattoo, kind of a metaphor to live by, I guess. Rising from the ashes and all.”
“How many times have you had to rise?”
She swallows, and I’m afraid I’ve maybe asked too much, but she still answers. “Enough times to know you never come back as the same person who went up in flames.”
She keeps her eyes locked on mine a while longer before taking another drink of her soda. I’m studying her, noting the freckles on the apples of her cheeks, the chewed nails of the hand she’s holding her cup with. Everything about her is so different than what I’m used to.
“So what’s your family like?”
I stiffen, clearing my throat. “Shitty. Well, most of them. All of them, really, aside from my little brother.”
Her mouth pulls to the side. “Shitty how?”
“Shitty like they’re druggies, they use me for money, they told me I was worthless growing up and now they think I’m arrogant.” I don’t know why I just opened up about all that shit. I never tell people my family drama — Skyler is the only one who knows.
I wait for Shawna’s mouth to drop open or her eyes to go wide, but she just offers a sad smile. “I’m no stranger to family drama, either.”
“What do you mean?”
Shawna crosses her arms over her chest. “Definitely not first date conversation material.”
“And mine was?” I ask, chuckling. She smiles, leaning forward over the table.
“I like that you opened up to me.”
“I’m still trying to figure out why.”
Her eyes fall to my lips. “Why don’t we go back to my place?” She flicks her eyes back to mine. “Maybe you’ll be able to hear yourself think better there.”
“Good thinking,” I reply, returning her smile. Calling the waitress over, I pay for our check and leave a cash tip on the table before grabbing Shawna’s hand and leading her through the door. She’s smiling wickedly at me, her green eyes curious yet challenging. And I know without a doubt that there will be absolutely no thinking going on once we make it to her place.