His tongue trails from the side of my chin to the corner of my mouth. I'm frozen on spot, barely breathing. When he pulls away, his eyes are the same shimmering silver I had seen the other night. My breathing spikes, and his eyes dart to my mouth. B...
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"Are you really not coming?" Nikki asks incredulously, over-the-top shock written on her face. "This is going to be thee rave of the year, Cupcake!"
"They're all "thee" rave of the year," I point out.
"Yeah, but this one's going to be in that old building on Broadway Avenue," she explains. "You know, that one with the Victorian meets English Old Woman design. It's going to be huge."
"I can't," I answer easily, snickering. "Not this time. I have to take care of things for Mother."
"Fuck that." She snorts, leaning back in her chair and kicking her legs up on the desk top. "If my old man asked me to do something, I'd laugh in his face."
I smile, shaking my head.
Nicole, or 'Nikki' if you don't want your skin peeled off, is quite easily the most gorgeous girl at Pacific University. She isn't the most ladylike, by any means, but acting proper's overrated anyway. With long, thick hair and pretty teal eyes, she effortlessly beats everyone in the school, especially with the habit of dying her hair unnatural colors. Even now, with her feet raised on the desk as if it's a pedestal for her pink heels rather than a place for paper, examining the chipping yellow on her nails, she looks like she belongs in a magazine rather than a rundown classroom.
This month, her colors are baby blue and bright green. Thanks to that (and her father's endless effort to pay off his daughter), the top layer of her hair is a light, pastel blue, while the bottom layers nearly blind you with neon green. Her skinny jeans are dual-colored (one leg white, the other black), and her pink Monster shirt looks skin-tight, just the way she likes it.
"Do you really think he's as hot as they're saying?"
Nikki and I look up in time to see two senior girls walk in. They make eye-contact with us, like deer caught in headlights, before scurrying to their seats, dropping their voices.
"I mean, he does sound too good to be true," she continues quietly, leaning into her friend.
"I saw him, okay?" the other assures her. "Trust me: he is too good to be true."
She looks too excited. "I can't wait to meet him."
"I can't wait to see your face! Too bad he's going to be late; he said he had to run home and get something."
"Oh my God. You two are already close enough that he can tell you his plans!?"
The friend shakes her head. "I wish. He's actually that opened with everyone."
