Game On(18)

“Bet you were a star pupil in school.” He quickly changed the subject as we reached main campus. “Straight As, teacher’s pet, honor roll, the whole thing.”

“Would you believe me if I said I was a slacker?” I responded as casually as I could. I had started working in high school, which often meant I had less time to do homework and sometimes had to miss class. Even though I had graduated, it had been a close call, and most of my teachers had considered the term an apt description.

“Nope,” he responded quickly. “You seem like someone who was focused on her studies.”

I couldn’t tell if it was meant to be a compliment or an insult, but I could sense an in. Even though I didn’t like revealing this aspect of myself, I knew that since I had made Nathan feel like a fool at the bar, it was now my turn to make myself vulnerable. To return the favor, so to speak, and even the playing field between us.

“I didn’t go to college.” I tried to keep my tone light. It never got easier admitting that to people, and I found that it felt especially vulnerable to do that to Nathan. I had never had the opportunities that he had. I had done my research on him. I knew that even if he hadn’t gotten a full athletic ride to college, his family would have been able to afford to send him anywhere. My mom hadn’t even been able to make it to my high school graduation because of work. Helping me pay for college was never even an option. I tried to remind myself that I was doing well, that I had the job I wanted even without a college degree, but I couldn’t help feeling like I had missed out on something important I really wanted to experience. And there it was again, jealousy. I seemed to be feeling it an awful lot in the past few days and I was not a fan. I was better than that.

“Oh,” he responded.

“Yeah.” I didn’t want to look up. This is when people usually started acting differently towards me. A little bit of pity, a little bit of elitism. I had dealt with it plenty of times at the paper, where most of my co-workers had graduated from some of the best journalism schools in the country. Most of them didn’t think I deserved to be there, especially since I had taken the slot that was usually filled by graduates from their various alma maters. But the editor-in-chief had seen something in me, apparently. Or just wanted me to f*ck up so they had a reason to fire me. Either way, I was going to hang onto this job with an iron grip as long as I could. And I wasn’t going to allow Nathan to make me feel the way my shitty co-workers did.

I looked up and made eye contact. “Couldn’t afford it.”

“Oh,” he said again, but he wasn’t looking at me the way that most people did when I told them about my situation. He looked more curious than anything. Either way, he wasn’t looking at me like I was a journalist looking to grill him for intimate facts he didn’t want to share. No. He was looking at me like he had looked at me the other night. And suddenly, I was once again the girl in the bar.

“It’s not a big deal,” I shrugged, hoping that sharing this information was going to be worth it in the end. “I worked instead. Got ahead of my peers, I guess.”

He didn’t say anything, just gave me a slow, assessing look.

“What?” I asked, feeling very exposed in front of him.

“You’re just not what I expected,” he said. “When they told me a journalist from the Register was coming to do an article on me, well, I guess I just thought you would be different.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” I retorted, my hackles rising. I might not have been what he had expected, but I was a damn good journalist and I was going to write a damn good story on him with or without his approval.

“I didn’t say that,” he said as we reached the lecture hall. He sighed. “Look, I know you’re just trying to do your job and all, I just don’t see the point of all this.”

“I’m here to help you,” I assured him, not really understanding how someone could be on the verge of becoming such a huge star and be so reluctant to talk about himself. “There’s a good chance you’ll be a public figure soon and people will want to get to know you. I want them to see your best side.”

“And sitting in on my poetry class is going to help show that?”

“It depends,” I teased. “Are you going to be reciting poetry in there?”

He leaned forward, that wonderful smell of grass invading my senses and for a moment I thought he might kiss me. But instead, he spoke, in a voice that was almost a whisper:

“I will touch you with my mind. Touch you and touch and touch. Until you give.”

My mouth dropped open and placing a finger beneath my chin, Nathan gently closed it.

“e.e. cummings,” he said, turning to open the door to the lecture hall. “You coming?” he asked, the question equally naughty and innocent, and without a word, I followed him in.





Chapter Seven


The soft whisper of Nathan’s voice echoed through my ear throughout the lecture, making it nearly impossible to concentrate. Not that it really would have mattered much to the article. Nathan just sat there listening carefully and taking notes. Even with an entire seat between us, I could still feel the thick crackle of tension. Obviously this wasn’t something he did with other journalists, but was this a move he used on other girls? Because if he had, I was sure a little digging would uncover a trail of young women in a state of shock. Who was this guy? I mean, really. No one recited poetry.