I do not own the novel Something Borrowed that is the beautiful work of Emily Griffin! =]

I go based on the book and the movie and of course a little imagination. haha

Rachel's POV:

Today is my first day of law school at NYU, my first time of being free of being known as Darcy best friend—her shadow. Don't get me wrong, I love Darcy and she has been my best friend since before I can even remember. It is like we were linked from the very beginning, when she linked her arm through mine and said "let's be sisters". Since then she has always came first—always—and she always wins over me—she is prettier, more popular, beginning a new career that she loves without very much effort, and she always seems to have a guy on her arm.

I must sound bitter and jealous, don't I? However, that is not it at all and I do love being Darcy's best friend, her sister and ultimate confidant. But for once, I am in a point in my life that does not get outshined by her like in elementary, middle, high school, and even in college. Now I am at NYU on the journey to becoming a lawyer, my dream career that I know I will have to sweat blood and tears to raise to the top in, but I am an eager student.

I pack my bag for each class, todays first being TORTS with Dr. Zigman, with nervous and jittery anticipation. Nothing will get in my way of being a model, responsible student like I was all throughout my life and plan to be in the future.

So why is it that when I finally get to Torts that everything starts out shaky, that I am shaky like a newborn fawn on teetering feet? I heard Professor Zigman is a respectable man but he is callous and cruel, sardonic to the core of his soul—if he even has one, which I suspect he doesn't. Anyways, here I am in Torts class trying to find my seat on the insanely illogical seating chart that Professor Zigman seemed to have developed.

I was one of the first to arrive in the class, leaving an hour before to make sure to give myself enough time to get situated, scrambling and nervous to begin to learn more about the law and judicial system.

After finding my seat I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose while I nervously set everything in front of me that I felt I needed to be prepared for class, in reality, I probably looked a bit like a compulsive head-case. I set four pens in front of me and line them up according to size and in perfect symmetry. Then I set down my notebook and binder, switch the two around, and then decide that the pens just do not seem to be in the right placement.

This is what I do to myself for arriving forty-five minutes early, while most of the class is still probably looking over useful things like notes from their internships or textbooks. Or maybe they are still sleeping and getting that needed REM sleep mode that is said to be needed for proper mental functioning, or maybe I am just thinking like a head-case again.

I cover my face in my hands and breathe in deeply, I need to calm down or I am going to drive myself crazy with all this nervousness. Okay…One, two, three…and go. Starting now.

I shut my eyes tighter and resist the urge to groan in frustration because the stupid trick is not working, I cannot seem to remain calm. I inhale deeper breathes, slow and easy, and let them out with controlled precision.

"Um, are you alright?" a male voice asks but surely it is not directed at me because…wait, why the hell not? Darcy is not here.

I glance up at the voice curiously, and immediately my heart begins to hammer in my chest because sitting next to me is the most gorgeous man I have ever laid eyes on. And he is looking right at me!

Of course, I freeze up and do nothing, I just stare at him with my mouth slightly open—a look I am sure is very attractive, not.

The guy next to me raises his dark eyebrows and scratches the back of his head, which ruffles his short dark hair that looks so soft that I just want to reach out and touch it. Finally, I shake my head and look down at my notebook. This man is clearly far out of my league for me to be even having such thoughts, and I just nod my head in response to his question.

"Are you sure?" He asks uneasily, quiet. I can feel him still staring at me, probably wondering how he got so darn lucky to be seated next to a mental patient.

I nod my head again. "Yes," I whisper softly and tell myself that the man next to me is not even that handsome, that outward perfection is boring in my opinion. I go back to rearranging my pens, meanwhile, I hear him shuffling stuff around in his bag and setting it carefully on the table.

"You wouldn't happen to have like four extra pens would you?"

"Actually I do, I brought a bunch if you ne—"I glance at him and notice by the big grin on his face that he is teasing me. "Oh, I get it; you are making fun of me. Right. Ha ha."

I hear him laughing softly beside me and I cannot help but glance back up from arranging my notebook and pens, however, the intensity of his green eyes causes me to downcast my eyes.

"Hey, no, I was not making fun of you. I am impressed; you are just making me feel very…inadequate with my one, sole pen over here."

I stare at him, at his smiling gorgeous mouth with a line of straight, white teeth that causes his green eyes to light up at me. I feel my heart skip a beat and I scold myself again, reminding me that he is out of my league and that he is not my type anyways, that I like flaws and clearly he is too perfect for me.

Professor Zigman walks in the room, slamming the door on his way in and I hear the distinct sound of the lock clicking into place, a sound that causes an overwhelming amount of dread to settle over me.

"I am Professor Zigman and this is Torts. Now let me get to the point of a few things, and yes, you will want to open your books to Chapter 10 for this class because we will be discussing the case you should have read." Professor Zigman's beady little eyes suddenly look in my direction, and I swear my heart stops beating as he asks what my question is. I squirm from side-to-side confused and point to myself as if to ask "Who, me?"

Professor Zigman's eyes lock onto me and he smirks, pompous and cruel. "No, you stupid girl, I was not asking you. Or are you suddenly a mind reader for what the young man behind you has to say?"

My feel my face heat up in mortification and I stutter out a soft "No, sir." And then I busy myself by searching through my bag for my Torts textbook, my hair covers my face as I search and I hope it covers my scarlet face and injured ego.

"Alright," Professor Zigman continues in a booming voice to the person behind me. "What is you important question that ceased me for continuing lecturing?"

There is a moment of silence that falls over the room, and for a minute I think the guy is not going to answer and then I find myself wishing he really hadn't once he does open his mouth.

"Well, Professor, I was just wondering how you expected us to read all ten chapters by now? Seeing as this is our day for this class," the guys voice reasons and I practically hear him shrug at the end of his sentence.

"Well, I take it you are not prepared for class than now are you—"Professor Zigman glances at his chart and smirks. "Mr. Feadman?"

"It is Fedman but I did not mean any disrespect, sir, I just was wondering how we were supposed to know t—"

"Oh, well, excuse me Mr. Feeedman." I cringe when I hear his mocking, condescending tone, even though it is not targeted at me. "Perhaps if you are not prepared for my class you should leave until you have read all the required material."

Silence falls over the classroom, so quiet I can practically hear my heart pounding in my chest as my hand remains frozen on my Torts book. There is no movement and Professor just continues to stare at the student, Mr. Fedman, expectingly. "Well, Mr. Fedman?"

"I-I'm sorry, sir?" Fedman's voice is so lost and practically quivers under Zigman's intense stare.

Professor Zigman lets out a big, long sigh as if the whole effort of responding is exhausting. "Get out of my classroom, Mr. Fedman. Come join us again when you have covered the proper reading material, and can actually be of some use to answer specific questions."

The class falls into another stunned silence and Fedman makes no movement of leaving the classroom until Professor. Zigman walks over to the door and wrenches it open, dramatically gesturing for him to make his exit quickly. Fedman walks down slowly, his hands shaking as puts his books and supplies into his bag in frenzy. The moment he exits, Professor Zigman slams the door shut and my book slides from my hands as I jump—startled.

My hands rush out to try and catch it before it hits the floor but the man beside me catches it with easy, careful hands. He flashes me that gorgeous smile that makes me blush a shade darker and hands me the book. I set my text book on the table and try to organize everything quickly as Professor Zigman begins talking about the meaning and importance of Torts in the law.

Everyone around me is writing quickly, taking down every word the professor is saying and I slide my notebook out from beneath my textbook to flip to a fresh page. And then I hear four distinct plopping sounds, suddenly I cannot breathe.

"Crap," I whisper and glance down at all my pens that are now on the floor in front of me, too far out of my reach to grab without gaining the attention of everyone in the class. Especially, Professor Zigman.

I lift my hands as if to do something but then set them back down on the table in front of me, my heart pound so loudly and I feel like I am going to begin hyperventilating. I am that panicked, what if he calls on me? I need to write down these notes, they are obviously important…oh, god. I feel like I am going to be sick.

And then I hear the tiny sound of something sliding next to me and I glance over at the man next to me, a pen is on the table waiting for me to pick up. I glance up at his and shake my head but he nods at the pen trying to urge me to take it, and pushing it closer to me with his tanned hand.

"But what about you?" I ask quietly, shaking my head again.

He inclines his head closer to mine and I feel another blush rise on my cheeks. "That's okay, I can just listen." He smiles encouragingly at me and I give him a look that clearly says "Come on" but he just nods at the pen, folds his arms and listens to the professor lecturing.

I stare at him, dubious, for a few more moments and notice that the side of his mouth is curved upward at the corners. I grab the pen and mutter a quiet "thank you" to him but he only nods his head and continues listening to Professor Zigman talk about duties, breach, causation, and damages.

I glance over at him again, unwillingly finding appreciation in his formfitting sweater with the blue color of his under shirt peeking out, unbuttoned just enough that you can see his collarbone and neck. I look up at his face and we lock eyes, he is the kind of handsome that it is hard not to stare but I manage to look away and begin writing down what Zigman is saying again.

At the end of class I go to retrieve my pens, then I remember that I need to give the man his pen back but when I look back up from stuffing my pens and books back in my bag he is gone.

"Oh, well." I place his pen in my bag carefully and walk out of the room, covering my mouth in an unsuccessful attempt to keep the smile off of my lips.

Tell me what you think? Should I continue, either way I will but just let me know what your thoughts, ideas or opinions are! Review!