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Chapter 2 – The coffee situation

Jet lag is hitting me hard, seriously hard.

My ass is literally dragging along the ground and its only 9:30 am. I have the whole freaking day panned out ahead of me.

Oh my god that thought makes me want to weep or lay down in middle of campus and throw a huge temper tantrum.

No amount of highly caffeinated drinks can help me through this. I've been steadily pouring them down my throat since I blearily opened my eyes this morning. My fingers are tightly wrapped around drink number 4 as we speak. An extra-large Americano

I hate to say it but it already feels like I'm off to a crappy start. Here it is the first day of classes and I'm practically running clear across campus with odd shoes on because I'm late. Why did I think packing my entire life up in London and travelling home the day before fall semester started was such a brilliant idea?

I've had approximately 4 hours of sleep not that it feels like it. I was completely unprepared I'd wanted to pick up my books from the campus bookstore before they ran out unfortunately the bookstore line had been way longer than anticipated which has now made me late for my ten o clock technologies class.

I take a sip of my Americano making me feel even more spaced than I already do. My glasses are sitting at the end of my nose disguising the dark bags that are masking my eyes. My phone has pinged constantly for the past hour with incoming messages from my borderline obsessive mom.

I honestly do not know how I'm going to make it through today. I scramble forwards clutching my phone in one hand and my coffee in the other which gets dumped all over the person who has the misfortune of briskly bumping into me.

My mouth falls open in shock. I'm horrified. I watch my coffee cover the male's conveniently colored crisp white t-shirt.

"Oh my god" I squeal. The onset of embarrassment sets fire to my normally pale cheeks. "I am so sorry; I'll totally buy you a new t-shirt". Now would be the perfect time for the ground to swallow me up.

What makes it worse is that he's yet to respond. I glance towards my odd shoes avoiding eye contact. I'm desperately wracking my scrambled brain for an exit strategy. I can feel people staring at me, probably laughing at me.

A deep voice finally mumbles.

"A girl usually doesn't get my shirt off until the second date at least"

I have to shake my head as his words slowly enter my brain. Did he seriously just say that to me? I almost swallow my tong stunned into silence.

The guy standing before me is absolutely gorgeous. He makes Tommy Merlyn look like Shrek. Tousled dirty blonde hair paired with the most beautiful blue eyes I've ever seen. I realize I'm staring into them and glance down to his mouth that is now smirking.

Asif his blonde hair blue eye combo isn't enough I can't help but notice that his lashes are long and thick and his facial hair is groomed to perfection. He has chiseled cheek bones and full pouty lips. I'm finding it extremely difficult to look away from his gorgeous face.

My eyes eventually fall back to his t-shirt which is incredibly tight on his muscular chest and arms. I'm seriously staring to feel a little faint.

This feels like one of those bad high school dreams that you wake from in a cold sweat.

I'm just about to mutter an apology when I hear

"Hey Queen, are you coming were almost late for class"

Hearing those words thankfully break the tension and I shake my head. Thank god I'm hiding under my hair and glasses otherwise this guy would get a good look at me. The fact this guy won't be able to recognize me again is the only thing that's getting me through this.

"I have a pack of tissues in my bag, not that a tissue will do much to clean up coffee on a white t-shirt"

I rummage around in my bag for the pack of tissues that appear to have disappeared. Shit.

"Don't worry about it"

Well I have to hand it to this guy; he's got more patience than me. My eyes wonder up just in time to see him whip of the coffee stained t-shirt leaving a bare chest in its place.

OH MY GOD

Someone must have chiseled this guy from marble. Those abs, that six pack.

"See something you like?" he smiles completely cocksure of himself

I realize there's now a crowd of girl's admiring this guy's tanned bare chest. Yep I'm defiantly lobster red.

"Again, I'm sorry. So sorry" I mumble backing away from him. I bolt across the corridor, throwing one last glance towards him as I enter into my lesson.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

My first lesson is with Professor Carol Trevors. Collectively she has around five thousand students so the chances of me bumping into Mr blue eyes again are slim to none. That makes me feel a little better.

My lesson has already started as I burst through the door; luckily Professor Trevors is busy having a heated debate with a student to notice my entrance.

Breathing a sigh of relief I slide onto a desk at the very back of the room and drop my bag onto the floor before brushing my unruly hair out of my face.

The lesson begins and I pull out my laptop and begin to type away. Thirty minutes into the lesson and my heart rate as finally steadied, I'm no longer thinking about spilling an entire Americano down Mr. Blue eyes. That is until the classroom door creaks open and in walks Mr. Blue eyes himself; I slouch down in my seat, hiding behind my laptop screen. I know he won't recognize me; I did a good job of disguising my face for the most part of our encounter.

I expect Blue eyes to share a few heated words with Trevors for been late

"Sorry Professor, I was delayed on the way over".

But to my surprise "Don't worry about it Mr. Queen, see me after class and we'll get you up to speed on what you missed."

In response he dazzles her with a cheeky smile.

"Thanks Professor T, you're the best" he gives her a little wink and in response she flushes tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

What? This guy is unbelievable.

On his way to his seat 'Queen' high fives at least ten different guys, it's ridiculous how arranging this guy is. Who the hell is he? I roll my eyes and let out a huge sigh

"You don't know who Oliver Queen is?" surprised I turn to my side. Is this girl a mind reader? I must have muttered my thoughts out loud. I do that a lot.

"I've been away in London for 6 months"

"That's Oliver Queen, a senior. He's a football playing billionaire god who breezed his way through freshman year." She leans close to me like she's about to reveal the world's biggest secret. I move closer to her so I'm in ear shot.

"Word is he's close to making it professional and taking over his dad's multi-billionaire company back in Starling City, Queen's Consolidated"

Her eyes are filled with excitement as though she's speaking about a celebrity. She sighs dreamily "and just look at him, he's totally gorgeous. He could model for Gucci if he wanted to"

She's right he is gorgeous, but incredibly cocky and arrogant and from what I've just witnessed a douche bag.

"If you're interested, which you totally are, I mean who wouldn't be? He's a keen user of the M.I.T chat sight, rumor has it he sends out some pretty saucy pictures on there" she drools

"You're telling me this guy pries on girls via a chat room and sends nudes?" Oh my god

"Of course not, Oliver Queen as a huge following here at M.I.T. Someone created the chat room and urged him to use it, it allows people to track Oliver Queen and what he's getting up to, all the latest gossip. I like to call it my daily dose of Queen"

Ok this girl is potentially stalker material.

"Is all this fandom just because he plays football?" I ask skeptically

"No he doesn't just play football, he's hot and a billionaire". That's it I've lost her she's back absorbed in the lesson.