Chapter 5

"I found Alisha," Jenna reports breathlessly, catching up with me at the exit of the coffee shop where I usually buy my morning cappuccino. "I had to wait for her for an hour after her science class..."

"Get to the point," I say, glancing at my watch. "My class starts in ten minutes. Did you get the samples?"

Jenna hurriedly rummages through her bag, pulls out a colorful package, and hands it to me.

"No Brazilian thongs, just like you asked."

I critically examined the cropped tops and nylon shorts with the university logo and was satisfied. Everything looks much more decent than last year when onlookers could assess the depth of the participants' waxing and see their protruding nipples. The colors are also appropriate; there's no nauseating combination of red and green.

"Check with Christina about the team lineups and the girls' sizes, and pass the information on to Alisha. I hope she doesn't have another uterine frenzy by Saturday."

Glancing around quickly, Jenna leans toward me and begins to whisper excitedly.

"Ruby was right about her and the new guy." Alyssa said that he drove her home, and then they had sex in his car. She says he has...

"Enough," I said, squinting my eyes for a second to keep the forbidden images from seeping into my consciousness. I have no desire to know how my childhood friend, who used to carry my school backpack, has sex. "I'm not interested in the details. The form has to be ready by Friday; you know that. Now, excuse me, I have class."

I enter the lecture hall two minutes before the lecture begins. The benches are full, but the two seats reserved for Ruby and me are untouched, of course. I take my tablet out of my bag and glance at my watch again. Professor Cunningham will be here any minute, and my friend is late as usual. She's incorrigible. Last year, she almost got expelled for her poor grades. Mrs. Vanstein, Ruby's mother, threatened to transfer her to the University of Minnesota if she didn't improve. She was frightened by this prospect at the time, but that fear only lasted six months.

The door to the lecture hall creaks open, causing everyone to turn their heads. But it's not Ruby standing in the doorway, nor is it Professor Cunningham. It's Jaden. The girls sitting above me start whispering and giggling excitedly, as if they've never seen an attractive guy in their lives.

Do I find him attractive? Probably not. He's tall and broad-shouldered, and his clothes fit him well, no matter the brand. His scars and broken nose don't spoil his looks, either.

"He's really sexy. Just look at his arms! Emma Pulman told me..." The gossips catch my warning glance and fall silent. When did Jaden become a local celebrity? He doesn't play for the university and doesn't participate in public events, so how do people even know about him?

Jaden slowly scans the crowded rows, then focuses on the empty seat next to me. Adjusting the backpack slung over his shoulder, he starts walking down the steps. Is he going to sit next to me?

When he stops next to my bench, Howard Sullivan is the only person not staring at us, and that's only because he's asleep. Jaden raises an eyebrow, looks down at me, and nods toward my bag.

"Will you move it?"

"This seat is taken by my friend," I say, lifting my chin. "She'll be here soon."

"I got here first, so she'll have to find another seat," he says. He picks up the bag from the bench, places it in front of me, and sits down next to me.

The sound of whispering resembles the buzzing of a beehive now, and I am consumed by anger and confusion. He does it again. He undermines my authority in front of the crowd. I glance at the people who are still staring at us. After they turn away, I look back at Jaden. His palms rest on the table, and he looks unperturbed. His fingers are long, like a pianist's, with white scars on his knuckles.

"I'm sure those girls upstairs would be happy to make room for you between their thighs. Maybe you should try your luck there?"

Jaden slowly turns his head and squints at me. His green irises darken slightly, but his expression remains unchanged—indifferent and inscrutable.

"Your thighs suit me just fine, Tasha. I prefer to try my luck between them.”

The ambiguity of this phrase makes me hesitate to answer. Is he trying to embarrass me?

"You have a better chance with my bag," I say, pulling my Prada off the table and shoving it between us. “This is the first and last time you’ll be this close to me, Jaden. Next time, find yourself another seat."

Jaden doesn't answer. He leans over and takes a tablet out of his sports bag—the same model I have.

"I apologize for the slight delay, friends," says Professor Cunningham as he enters the lecture hall with a brisk stride and heads for his desk. "I'm glad to see so many of you here today..."

"Move over to the edge," I say quietly, keeping my eyes on the professor. "You're invading my personal space, and your elbow is getting in the way of my writing."

There is no response. Instead of moving, Jaden pulls out the bag that served as a kind of boundary between us. He puts it back on the desk and moves closer to me. Now, his leg is pressed tightly against mine, and his elbow touches my bare forearm.

"Enjoy."

I don't interact with guys very often, and I almost never have such close physical contact with them that I feel shocked by touching someone else's hot skin. I smell him again, and a painful nostalgia carries me back to childhood. Too close.

From behind, I hear the stifled whispers of the girls again. Surely they're discussing Jaden's latest daring escapade. It finally pushes me over the edge. My thoughts are racing: I have nowhere to go except onto Valerie Goldberg's skinny knees. Trying to argue with him is useless, as is using force—we are too unequal. So I act impulsively. I grab a gel pen from the table, clench it in my fist, and bring it down on Jaden's dark denim-covered knee.

"Move, damn it! Or the whole audience will hear you scream."

Adrenaline heats my veins with every passing second, making my blood boil. I don't know why our confrontation affects me so much, but I feel my body like never before. I hear every breath, feel every heartbeat, and see things I've never noticed before, like the small mole on Jaden's lower right eyelid. For example, I notice a small mole on Jaden's lower right eyelid.

"Go, Tasha. I'm waiting,” he said, his green eyes fixed on me, challenging me. He doesn't believe I can do it. He's wrong.

I barely have time to swing my improvised weapon before hot fingers grip my palm and squeeze my wrist tightly. The pen falls to the floor with a silly sound. All I can do is look at Jaden with angry helplessness.

He doesn't smile or gloat; he just stares at me, clenching his jaw until it aches. His skin touching mine feels like a red-hot brand, causing pain. It seems that even when he pulls his fingers away, the places where they touched will remain forever unhealed—bloody craters.

"Let go of my hand," I croak, quickly licking my lips. My mouth is dry, and my pulse is still pounding like a freight train. "Now."

The grip on my wrist loosens, and a second later, it disappears completely, as does Jaden's thigh pressed against me. He pulls his tablet toward him, moves away, and doesn't look at me for the rest of the class.

At the end of the torturous lecture, Ruby meets me at the auditorium exit with a huge smile.

"I know you're mad at me, but you shouldn't be," she says, not giving me a chance to express my dissatisfaction. "I met with Kobi Jacobs and sorted out the bungalow rental for Saturday's event. Now praise me!" We're going to have it! Long live the party!"

"Because of you, I had to sit next to Jaden. We almost killed each other with gel pens."

My friend's face shows surprise mixed with amusement, but she's too pleased with herself and excited about her plans to take me seriously.

"He took my seat next to you? Wow, what a bold guy!" By the way, one of the guys invited him to the party on Saturday, too. I'll be happy to check him out in his swim trunks.