Olivia:
I blushed slightly and looked down at my notebook as he began to introduce himself. This is going to be a very interesting year.
After a couple minutes of our professor speaking, we had learned that his name was Fitzgerald Grant III, but he had asked us to call him Fitz. He said something about feeling weird every time someone called him Professor Grant. I was slightly disappointed when I found out that he was married – at least I could still look at him during class. That would be enough for me; I think. He told us that his favorite drink was coffee and that he was fairly certain that he drank way too much. At the end of his introduction, he asked us to go around the room and introduce ourselves, starting at the back. Abby and I waited impatiently until it was our turn to speak.
"I'm Abby," Abby introduced herself. "I'm a junior at Washington Prep. I play lacrosse. I'm thinking about majoring in law, but I'm not sure yet."
Fitz nodded before turning his gaze to me. I had trouble getting my voice to work with his blue eyes trained on me.
"I'm Olivia," I somehow managed to get out. "I'm also a junior at Washington Prep. Law and politics are my favorite things to immerse myself in. I also love to read."
"Really? I don't normally get a lot of students who are enthusiastic about my subject of choice. What was the last thing you read?" Fitz asked, his smooth voice sounding like music to my ears.
"Decision Points." That answer was easy enough, I had just finished it that morning.
"Bush's autobiography? I haven't gotten the chance to read it yet. Sadly, the last book I read was Siddhartha." He gave me what I had quickly dubbed his trademark smile and I felt my heart flutter slightly. All in all, he was turning out to be almost too good to be true.
"If you had to choose, who would you say is your all-time favorite head of state? American or not." He questioned, his eyes sparkling as he stared at me, waiting for my response. I could tell that he had completely forgotten that we were in the middle of a classroom and the only thing going through his head was this conversation.
"Margaret Thatcher." I gave a confident smile. Who didn't look up to the first female Prime Minister of the UK and one of the most influential people of the 80s? Alongside Reagan, she practically ruled that decade.
"A very influential woman. What's your favorite quote of hers? Everyone has one." He continued with his questions, something that I noticed he hadn't done with any of the other students. He had merely nodded along with their introductions, never once drawing them into conversation.
"Power is like being a lady, if you have to tell people you are, you aren't." I responded watching as he nodded.
"Great quote," He commented before turning to the rest of the class, leaving me wanting to talk to him more. I sighed and opened my notebook as he started talking about a class syllabus. He handed them out to each row, but when he got to mine and Abby's row, he handed me my paper himself. He smiled down at me as our hands touched and I attempted not to grasp at the immediate spark I felt. I tried to reason with myself that all I felt toward him was some primal attraction. I mean, just look at the man! He was absolutely stunning. Even as I tried to convince myself of this, a tiny voice in the back of my head kept saying that I liked Fitz for who he was as well, not just because he was hot. I shook my head of these thoughts and turned to the syllabus, determined that I would attempt to take my mind off these thoughts.
"So, what did you think of Fitz?" Abby drew his name out as we walked down the hall, away from our Government class.
"He's alright," I attempted to shrug the question off.
"Alright? He is the sexiest man I have ever seen," Abby shrieked as I turned to look behind us, praying that no one had overheard our conversation.
"Fine, he's hot," I conceded, feeling a grin spread across my face as I thought of him.
"Thank you," Abby said in her most conceited voice. I rolled my eyes as I linked my arm with hers and dragged her toward the lounge, where we would most likely hang out until our next class started. David was still at the pool table when we walked in.
"Do you ever go to class?" Abby winked at him as the two of us made our way to stand at the pool table, watching David play against some other guy.
"Every now and then," David grinned, it was blatantly obvious that he liked Abby. I'm not sure if she caught on to that or not, though.
"So, how did you guys like your Government class?" David questioned, taking a shot.
"It was amazing," Abby gushed, watching as David knocked one of his balls into a middle pocket.
"Who do you have?" David continued the conversation before turning his concentration back to his game, shooting and failing to knock in his last ball. He stood and put some chalk on his pool stick, looking at Abby and me for the answer to his question.
"Fitz Grant," I responded, loving the way his name rolled off the tip of my tongue.
"He is super hot," Abby exclaimed as David shook his head at the two of us.
"He's gay." Was all David had to say as he once again attempted to make his last ball. Having succeeded at that task, he turned to the eight-ball.
"He's not gay; he's married," I snorted, rolling my eyes at David.
"Whatever. No straight man wears a sweater vest." Now it was David's turn to roll his eyes as he knocked the eight-ball in, winning the game.
"Well he obviously does," I huffed, wondering why I was taking up for a man I had just met. I glanced at the clock, noticing that it was late enough for me to bow out of this conversation by pleading that I had to get to my class.
"I have to go. I'll see you late, Abby." I waved as I grabbed my bag and headed down the hall, toward my second class.
"Olivia," I heard Isabella call from the kitchen as soon as I stepped through the door and sighed. I'm not even home five minutes and she's already demanding my attention. I slung my bag on the floor by the end of the staircase before walking into the large kitchen. Isabella stood at the stove, cooking spaghetti. She was still wearing her dress clothes. I glanced at the clock at noticed that she must have gotten home not too long before me; I distinctly remember her saying that she had a case at 2:30 and it was going on 4:00.
"Yes?" I questioned, snatching a cookie out of the jar and popping it in my mouth.
"Would you mind sitting the table? Your father will be home in about ten minutes." I nodded as I took some plates out of the cupboard and walked through the doorway to the dining room.
"How was your first day?" Isabella called as I arranged the tables and silverware.
"Good," I replied, walking back into the kitchen after I had finished my task.
"Any cute guys?" She threw a wink over her shoulder before turning back to the stove.
"Well…my professor is pretty hot," I stated, shrugging my shoulders and turning my head toward the front of the house when I heard the front door opening.
"You'll have to tell me everything, later. Looks like your father's home," Isabella whispered conspiringly. I smiled slightly before turning to the doorway where my father stood.