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Disclaimer: All characters belong to Kelley Armstrong
Chapter 4
Chloe's P.O.V.
"Where am I?" I mumbled to myself, turning around and staring at the unfamiliar part of campus as heads bobbed by. I quickly moved to the side of the swarm; standing in front of a stampede is not recommended.
Glancing at my schedule for the umpteenth time I scratched my head. I was where I was supposed to be, wasn't I? I had to be, so why wasn't I sitting in my American Literature class? I frowned again and craned my head in every direction so frequently that I was positive my neck would be stiff the following morning. While desperately wishing I was taller, I glanced at my cellphone to check the time. 11:59. Great, I had precisely a minute to get to class and I couldn't find the damned classroom.
I looked up at the waning number of people and slumped into the red brick column behind me. I wasn't going to find the room in time, I thought to myself pitifully. Contemplating whether or not I should just simply give up and return to the apartment, I saw a tall man with a baggy shirt pace by me quickly, his familiar green eyes landing on me for a split second before turning away.
Derek.
I frowned as my heart thumped against my ribcage harder than before, however I blamed it on the nerves of seeing him anywhere other than our apartment. Afterall, he's intimidating, pure muscle and his only expression was a scowl. I swallowed and looked down towards my feet, careful to not stare at him too long or else he'd notice.
Where is he going?
I recalled his conversation with Liz in the library regarding his schedule and my head immediately smacked upwards, nearly slamming into the brick column behind me as I scrambled towards Derek, waving my arms in the air as I ran, calling out his name through ragged breaths. He was heading to the same place I was.
He stiffened as he heard his named being called and slowed down by a millisecond, but he didn't turn around to look who it was. I was too anxious to be offended as I nearly jammed into his side, which held an abundance of textbooks. Glancing at their spines, I searched for a navy blue colored one, the same one that I was holding. Thankfully, stacked high on the pile, sat the American Lit. textbook.
"Wh-where are you going?" I croaked, out of breath and in desperate need for some water. And probably some exercise.
"I don't have time for this." Derek grumbled in response, still not bothering to look at me.
"Where're you going?" I asked again, this time however, my tone was more aggravated.
"I'm going to be late, and I don't do late." Derek snapped his head towards me, looking me straight in the eye as he continued walking, which made it quite hard to keep eye contact.
I groaned as my eyes narrowed. "Where's American Lit?"
Derek didn't respond, instead he settled for increasing his speed. I sighed, internally debating whether or not I should bother to keep up with him. He might have transferred out of the class, for all I knew. Or maybe I misheard him and he just didn't have the same class as me. But, what if he did? Quickly deciding my answer, I scuttled after the annoyed Derek.
Taking a left and three rights, we reached two large doors that were open wide, students chattering in their seats. Was this on the map? I exhaled in relief when I saw on the chalkboard, 'Welcome to American Literature 101.'
So Derek did have this class with me. I shrugged and looked around; I was one of the last people who came, and had trouble finding an empty desk. Spotting one near the window, I lunged forward; my sides already sore from running after Derek, as I witnessed someone else slide into my claimed seat. I glared at my roommate as he looked out the window, brushing his dark hair away from his green eyes.
I glanced around, hoping to find another empty seat, but to no prevail as a lanky, white-haired man waltzed into the classroom.
"Sit." He commanded, his voice resonating through the large classroom as he turned around, writing his name on the blackboard. I squinted, Dr. Davidoff. He turned around again, staring directly at me.
"Did I not tell everyone to sit down?" His beady eyes narrowed as my face turned the color of tomatoes.
"I-I," Davidoff cut me off with a wave of his wrist.
"Sit down, Miss." I panicked, looked around desperately for somewhere else to sit.
"She doesn't have a chair, Professor." Someone called out, voice strangely familiar as it ricocheted off the walls of the enormous classroom.
I looked over towards the window as Derek finished his remark, his arms splayed over his defined chest.
Davidoff stared at Derek for a moment before turning to me. "My apologies, Miss?"
"S-Saunders. Chloe Saunders." I finished for him as I wrapped my fingers into each other, bringing my attention back to the professor after several astonishing seconds of gaping at Derek.
"Since this gentleman here pointed it out, would he mind giving up his seat for Miss Saunders?" Davidoff asked Derek, causing my vision to dart towards Derek, who simply nodded and stood up, holding his books in his large hands.
"I-it's okay, I can stand." I insisted, however Derek glared at me, silently ordering me to sit down in his seat before he regretted opening his mouth in the first place. I'd never imagined Derek to be a teacher's pet. My cheeks flushed as I raced forward, scooting past Derek and dumping my bag to the floor as I glided into the seat.
"Thanks, Derek." I whispered to him and he looked back at me for a second before turning away, giving his complete attention to the teacher.
Derek shuffled slightly. "No big deal." He grunted.
…
The bell rang throughout the room, signifying the end of the class as students erupted in noise and collected their things.
"By next class I'll expect you to have read A Rose for Emily by William Faulkner and composed a well structured essay." Dr. Davidoff called out to the class slumping back into his chair at his desk.
He glanced up, eyes focused on Derek as he spoke through the noise. "We'll have a desk for you next class."
"Thanks." Derek mumbled, nodding his head as he stuffed his backpack. I stared at him for a second; did Derek just say thanks?
"What's your name, kid?" Davidoff asked, this time standing up and walking slightly closer towards the younger, attractive man.
"Souza."
Davidoff smiled, "So you're the genius who's getting his Ph.D at 22 and still managed to fail literature."
Derek shrugged. "I wouldn't say genius."
Davidoff chuckled and walked out the door of the class.
Derek was getting his Ph.D already? I was disgusted with myself; I'd been his roommate for nearly two months and I didn't know he was getting his Ph. D, much less what he was majoring in. What was wrong with me? Sure, he didn't seem like he wanted to ever talk to me, but I should get to know him a little, no matter how much of a jerk he can be.
Derek turned around and walked out of the classroom, leaving me the last person in the whole room. I frowned at myself and pulled out the chair and simply sat down; I didn't have anywhere else to be for the rest of the day.
Thinking back on it, I had always been rather cold towards Tori and Derek, not wanting to even consider them my roommates and not really even trying to befriend them, something that was slightly out my of character.
"Hey, you gotta get out of here." A gruff voice sounded from my right, causing me to jump a foot in my seat with fright. "You're not supposed to be in here."
I turned around, meeting a janitor a little older than me, most likely another student who worked there. A mop was gripped firmly in his left hand, like a child holding a prize and a deep frown plastered on his face.
"I-I, sorry! I'm g-going now." I quickly picked up my bag full of books and swung it over my shoulder, halfway to the exit of the classroom. My face red stricken, I vowed to at least try to get to know my roommates.
…
Tying my hair up in a high ponytail I heard a sharp knock at the door, one single rasp. Gingerly getting up from my bed, I headed towards the bedroom door, opening it and coming face to face with a textbook.
I looked up at Derek. "Hi."
"Hello." Derek nodded curtly, staring down at my small frame, causing me to feel self conscious.
"Uh, what's up Derek?" I asked him, pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear, as I remembered my earlier promise to befriend him.
Derek scratched the back of his neck, looking nervous before running a hand through his short cut hair, causing my throat to tighten and go dry. I cleared my throat.
"Well, I need your help." Derek shoved the textbook closer to me, the other hand held the book Davidoff wanted us to read and write an essay on.
I crossed my arms over my chest and stared up at him, a smile playing on my lips. "I never expected a virtuoso to ask for my help."
Derek scowled, the comment apparently hitting home. He snapped back at me. "I'm settling."
I expected myself to slam the door on his face at the insult, however, I felt it was more funny than mean. I chuckled slightly at the comment, his eyebrows furrowed. "I'm actually about to go the movies." I pointed towards my clothes, which for once weren't sweat pants.
"Oh, I'll ask Simon, then." Derek was already backing away and heading towards his room when I sprung my hand forward, fingers splayed across his bicep.
"Wait. I wasn't planning on going alone. You and Tori wanna come?" I asked, my voice suddenly an octave higher and cheeks bright pink. I dropped my hand.
Derek stared at me questioningly, obviously suspicious by the sudden invite. "Tori's with Liz."
"Even better. Let's go and then I'll help you when we get back."
Derek's gorgeous eyes narrowed. "I don't like the movies."
I rolled my eyes and walked past him towards the front door. "Well, I don't really like tutoring people, but I guess we'll both have to suck it up."
And I swear I saw his mouth twitch into a smile.
So they're hanging out! Sorta. Sorry if it's bad, I just needed to post something.
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Thanks, Bridget
