Great. Just great. Professors really loved it when you strolled in five minutes late.
That was sarcasm, because they most definitely hated it. They stopped talking to glare at you as you tried to stroll in quietly and not make a fuss, thereby making a bigger fuss than they would’ve if they would’ve just kept on lecturing.
I got it, their time was valuable, but sometimes life happened. Sometimes you couldn’t be on time to save your life.
The only saving grace about me being late to this particular class was that the room wasn’t full. When I snuck in, I was able to get my ass in a seat in the back before the teacher heard the door close.
Not where I normally sat; on every other good day, I sat more towards the middle front—they say you’re better able to pay attention the closer to the front you are, but I’d heard that sometimes in the very front, you’re subjected to some saliva if the professors are spitters. Yeah, nasty.
I ended up sitting beside a girl in a beanie with raging pink hair that made my eyes hurt to look at. So pink. So fucking pink I had to take a huge sip of coffee and blink a few times to try to wake my ass up. I’d seen her before in passing, but I’d never spoken to her. She was always quiet, withdrawn. When the professor called on her to answer any questions, she always mumbled the responses.
As I got out my laptop to take notes on, I leaned over to her chair and whispered, “Did I miss anything?”
She did not have a laptop out, unlike most of the class. She preferred to handwrite her notes, though it looked like she traced the lines on the notebook paper more than anything else.
When I brought my gaze up off her notebook, I met eyes that were a startlingly bright green. Beneath the neon pink hair, I realized, she was pretty. Pale face, smooth skin, not a blemish or scar in sight. Her lips were pursed in a frown as she looked at me, as if she couldn’t decide whether I’d asked her that seriously or not.
The pink hair must throw me off at a distance. I never realized she was so cute before.
For a few moments, we simply stared at each other, neither one of us saying anything. I wished I knew what was going on in that head of hers; her green gaze held something I couldn’t name.
Finally, she spoke in a bare whisper, so as to not draw the professor’s attention, “Maybe don’t be late, and you won’t miss anything.”
I blinked. Was that attitude she was giving me, or was she just stating the obvious? I honestly could not tell, but I also didn’t care which one. Maybe today wouldn’t be such a bad day after all. “It isn’t like I’m always late. Needed my coffee.”
Her emerald stare fell to the mug on my lap, and I had never seen a more unimpressed look.
A smile grew on my face, and I grabbed the mug, offering it to her. “Want some?”
She shook her head softly. “I hate coffee.”
I swore I felt my heart break right there. Who in their right mind hated coffee? A savage, some uncultured swine, definitely. I yanked it back, acting insulted, and I made sure to take a long swig.
As class continued, I tried to pay attention to the professor. It was weird, because I’d never had a problem before. Paying attention was easy for me. What was even weirder was that I knew my problems with trying to focus was not because I sat in the back.
It was because I sat in the back beside a girl with bright pink hair and the greenest eyes I’d ever seen.
As the minutes wore on, I could not stop thinking about her eyes. The color. I legit never thought I’d ever seen eyes such a clear, crisp green. To say they were gorgeous would be a huge understatement.
“And don’t forget,” the professor spoke before letting us go for the day, “those group projects are coming up. Since they are worth thirty percent of your final grade, I do hope at least some of you take them seriously. I would start choosing partners if I were you. You don’t want me picking partners for you.”
Ah, yes. If there was one thing all college students collectively hated with their entire being, it was group projects. It went without saying that, somehow, one person ended up doing it all while the others sat back and reaped the rewards. Professors said group projects were helping to get you ready for your workplace—in which case I could see it. Someone taking credit for all your hard work.
The room was full of students trying to escape as quickly as possible once the professor quieted, but I noticed the pink-haired girl with the beautiful green eyes was taking her time, seemingly lost in her own world as she packed up, those eyes not really focusing on anything.
She looked, for lack of a better word, sad.
I packed up my laptop, though I didn’t really take many notes, my mind too unfocused, watching her as I got up. By the time I stepped out, most of the class had already gone. Out in the hall, I held my bag over my shoulder as I waited for her to come out—and when she did, her hair was just as blinding as it was inside the classroom.
Standing there, I got a better view of her. She wore a baggy sweater, along with jeans that had such big tears in the legs, her entire knees were practically showing. She was short, too. Maybe five feet tall, no more, which put her almost a whole foot shorter than me. Beneath the clothes that did her body no favors, I could still tell she was small.
Her eyes were on the ground as she exited the classroom, and without so much as a glance in my direction—or anyone else’s—she started walking away.
I trailed after her, catching up to her as she pushed into one of the building’s many stairwells, heading down. Though I walked right beside her, she still didn’t look at me, and I couldn’t tell if she was purposefully ignoring me or so lost in her own head that she didn’t notice I was there. Either way, I was about to bust that wall down.
The moment my foot hit the bottom of the stairwell, I said, “Hey, Pink.” Pink. Not the most creative nickname, but I couldn’t think of anything else, given how ungodly pink her hair was. Seriously. I bet in the sunlight that hair reflected so much light you could go blind if you stared at it too long.
Though I bet she wanted to, she stopped before leaving the stairwell, moving aside to let other students pass as she turned those green eyes up at me. “Are you talking to me?” she asked, her eyebrows drawing together, as if she truly could not think of any possible reason why I’d want to speak with her.
I threw a look around. “Anyone else with pink hair nearby?”
Her lips pursed. Once again, unimpressed with my antics.
“I’m Mason,” I said, trying to smooth over the tension between us. Was I annoying her? Did she want to run off and escape without talking to me more? She was always so quiet in class…I didn’t think I’d ever seen her talk to anyone, actually.
She was quiet for a moment, though her eyes did size me up. “What do you want?” Her voice came out quiet, and I could hardly hear her. She looked absolutely uncomfortable.
“I’ll settle for your name today,” I told her, meaning it. I could tell she wasn’t at ease with me, and I didn’t want to push her. Still, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering about her, from picturing those sparkling green eyes looking not so sad.
She looked like she wanted to make like a deer and dart away, run as far away from me as her legs would allow. Still, I blocked her exit from the stairwell, so she had nowhere to run just yet. “Bree,” she finally spoke, giving me her name.