His Golden Ticket

Chapter Four

 I pinch the bridge of my nose as the professor rambles on about the importance of the Oxford comma. Why must I learn about something so dull and generic on my first day on campus? I would highly appreciate it if I could at least learn about something new.

"Miss McCalister." A voice booms, startling me nearly to the point of falling out of my chair. Surely enough, the voice belonged to Professor Watson. The room full of students turn their heads in my direction, annoyed expressions on their face.

"Since you seem to be very contempt with the idea of learning the foundation of English literature," he leers, "I'm sure we would all appreciate you teaching the rest of the class about the essentiality of the Oxford comma."

I stood up slowly, taking a deep breath in, preparing myself to talk in front of the whole class. 

"The Oxford comma is important to the English language, since it allows one to identify whether something being acknowledged is simply one specific thing or something combined of that sort." My eyes darted across the room as I spoke, not wanting to see every pair of eyes staring back at me. 

Letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding in, I glance over at the professor. His lips were curled up into a discreet smile. 

"Well done, Miss McCalister. You may sit." 

I mutter a quick thank you before plopping down into my seat. I turn to both my left and right to see if anyone was looking at me, only to see a pair of green eyes staring in my direction. Furrowing my eyebrows, I try to connect a name with the gorgeous face I'm gazing at, smiling brightly once I remember. 

Peter. 

---

"Why didn't you tell me you went to Rutherford? Why are you acting so mysterious? Why do you seem to be everywhere I-"

"Relax, Angel." He chuckles, walking rather fast as I struggle to keep up. Curse short legs. "I wanted to surprise you today, since I knew I was going to see you in English Literacy."

I stop in my tracks. "How did you know we were going to be in the same class?"

Peter stops walking and throws his head back, groaning. "Will you please stop with all the questions?"

"Only if you stop being so secretive and answer them." I challenge, raising an eyebrow.

He pauses for a moment and stares straight back at me, as if he were analyzing me. 

"Questions left unanswered are the most exciting ones to reveal for yourself." 

I roll my eyes, wearing a playful smirk on my face. "Please stop acting like Aristotle and at least help me find my next class, since you want to be stubborn." 

Peter laughs, before taking the sheet out of my hand and pointing down the hall. 

"Fifth door to the left." 

---

I was fortunate enough to not remember the pain of carrying several heavy books in my book bag since high school, but now the horrid memory was reoccurring. 

Pulling the dorm room key out of the pocket in my book bag, I ran inside to alleviate the nagging pain in my arms and shoulders, only to see Sara with a boy.

Taken aback, I clear my throat to gain the attention of both Sara and the mystery guy. Sara immediately jumps up, along with her friend. A pang of jealously surges through me once realizing that the guy in the room was Peter. And her hand was rubbing circles on his shoulder. 

"Oh," I quickly mask the obvious anger and feign oblivion. "I didn't know you guys were a couple. Sorry if I interrupted." 

"No, you're fine. We were just studying." Sara steals yet another glance at Peter, whose gaze was set on me. 

I attempt to hold back laughter at her pathetic attempt at being flirtatious, and simply shrug. "Well, I guess I'll just be studying somewhere else then."

"Wait," Sara's voice stops me in my tracks, her voice feigning innocence. "You can study here. Peter and I will just study in his dorm room."

I roll my eyes while she is facing my back, before turning around to face her. "Okay then?"

It is an understatement to say that I have never seen a girl gather her things faster. As she takes Peter's hand to guide him out of the room, he turns to look back at me, an apologetic look on his face.

I simply give him an expressionless stare before closing the door once they were out of the room.

Why do some men feel the need to incessently play with women's hearts? 

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Hellooooo!! 

I finally updated after 15 years, sorry. 

I am overwhelmed with the current amount of reads I have on this story. Again, it may not seem like a lot to you, but it truly is to me. This book is very personal to me, and to find out that other people enjoy reading it makes me so happy. Thank you so much!!

This is a shorter author's note since I forced myself to sit down and write this chapter, therefore, I am tired of typing lol.

(P.s. I would like to acknowledge the fabulous users that have contacted me and made suggestions and complimented my story. You know who you are! Thank you for being so supportive and making me a better author overall!)

~Aubrey