I kept pace with Chase’s long strides. He said nothing, so I did the same as we crossed the nearly deserted campus to the library. Lights filtered through the windows of the glass exterior of the tall modern building—such a contrast to all the older buildings that surrounded the quad. Vast stone steps led up to the entrance to the library. When we reached the front door, he pulled it open and walked through, letting it practically close in my face. Asshole.
Maintaining my composure, I kept up with him as he walked through the lobby and right to the elevator at the far side. He jammed his finger into the button and we waited, the silence between us growing. The elevator chimed and the doors split apart. We stepped inside and Chase pressed the button for the sixth floor. The doors closed and the tension in the air could be cut with a knife. “Where’s Chantel?” I finally asked.
“Not her keeper.”
“She didn’t come home last night,” I said, looking for a reaction.
He gave none.
The elevator door opened, and we stepped out to a floor filled with wooden tables. Some were occupied by groups studying and working quietly. Others were devoid of bodies but covered with books and open laptops. I followed Chase to the right until we stopped outside a dark room with windows filling the front. One strip of tiny blue floor lights running the perimeter of the room gave off minimal light inside.
As we stepped inside, I glanced around at the cubicles with televisions on desks and comfy chairs in front of them strategically set up in different areas of the room.
Chase walked to the counter where a short girl in glasses stood. She spoke to a guy in front of us. “I’m sorry. But it looks like it’s been taken out.”
“What the fuck?” he growled at her. “I’ve got a paper due tomorrow.” His voice grew louder and angrier. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”
In the dim light of the small desk lamp on her counter, we could see her inch back from the counter, clearly unsettled by this guy.
“Whoa,” Chase said, getting in the guy’s face. “I heard her say someone took it out.”
The guy, though not as big as Chase, glared at him. “What?”
“I think you owe her an apology.”
After a long stare down, the guy tore his eyes away from Chase and glanced to the girl. “My mistake.” He turned and stormed out of the room.
“You good?” Chase asked the girl.
She nodded. “Thank you.”
I blinked several times, trying to comprehend what I’d witnessed. Was Chase actually capable of kindness? Had he really just shown a sliver of humanity to this girl?
“He was a jerk,” Chase assured her.
She nodded, still visibly shaken but trying to wear a brave face. “What can I do for you?” she asked.
“We need one of the movies Professor Irons put on reserve,” he said.
“Which one?” she asked.
“You choose,” he said, a light tone to his voice. “Though the shortest one would be appreciated.”
Wait. Was that a dig at spending time with me?
She spun around and searched the shelves behind her for a movie. She pulled out a VHS tape and handed it to Chase. “I leave at nine, so just return it to the returns basket when you’re finished.”
“You bet,” he said, turning away from her and moving to one of the television cubicles. We had our pick, since no one else was in the media room. He pulled out a chair at a corner cubicle with two chairs and dropped into it.
“That was a nice thing you just did,” I said.
He said nothing.
Grrr. I lowered my bag to the floor and sat down beside him. “Do you know how to use a VCR?”
He shot me a sideways glare.
“It was a valid question.”
The cold tone returned to his voice. “Do you think I live under a rock?”
“Well, I’d say you were definitely raised by wolves.”
He ignored my dig and inserted the video.
I pulled the assignment out of my bag, reading over the requirements. We needed to cite each time the film depicted an event that mirrored modern society.
“What do we need to do?” he asked.
“Oooooh. Can you not read?”
“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he said, pulling the assignment from his bag so he didn’t need to depend on me for the information. “You’ve got a comeback for everything.”
I scoffed. “And you have a rude comment for everything.”
“Only when it comes to you.”
I pressed my palm to my chest. “Should I feel honored?”
Annoyance flashed across his face, my refusal to concede to him clearly bothering him.
The black and white movie began on the screen, and we turned our attention to it.
My eyes struggled to adapt to the movie’s lack of high definition. And, thirty minutes in, I found myself completely distracted. Between the boring movie and the eye strain, I couldn’t focus. Then, there was also Chase’s kindness toward that girl that kept popping into my mind. It was like my brain was trying to link the two Chase’s together and having major difficulty. Who was he really? The nice guy who helped someone in need? Or, the cruel guy who didn’t know how to smile?
The minutes ticked by. And soon, the stark realization that we were very alone in that dark media room hit me. His crisp woodsy cologne kept inching its way over to me, inhabiting each one of my breaths. Then, the vision of him barging into my room kept replaying in my mind. I wished the way he just commanded a room with his tall body and pronounced muscles hadn’t made me visualize him doing very inappropriate things. But they had. God dammit they had.
The urge to look over at him began to rival that of me trying not to eat chocolate.
I was smarter than this.
I gave myself an internal tsk. Something was clearly wrong with me. Yes, he was good looking, with his perfectly styled dark hair and full lips. Yes, he showed he could be kind when he wanted to be. But, he was a complete freaking asshole the rest of the time.
And I hated him for it.
“How many do you have written?” he whispered.
I startled, as if he’d overheard my mind’s ramblings. I took a second to pull my thoughts together, then glanced to my notebook. “Six.”
“Six?”
“Do you have more?”
He shook his head.
I sighed. “The point of having a partner is to share information. We can compare our notes at the end.”
He yanked my notebook from my hands.
“You’re seriously the rudest guy I’ve ever met.”
He held his palm to his chest. “Should I be honored?”
I pressed my lips together, hating that he used my own line on me—again. “You can have my answers, but we still need to write the paper together.”
“I have something every day this week. This needs to get done tonight.”
“We have class at eight,” I said, noting it was nearing ten.
He handed me back my notebook. “Yeah, well, we need to get this done tonight. You better type fast.”
Rude and bossy.
The film ended an hour later. As the credits rolled, I pulled out my laptop and opened a blank document.
“Just add me to the doc and we can do every other paragraph,” he said.