Betting Boy

Chapter Three - Isabelle

I'm not sure what I expected from Freshers Week (other than, you know, a lot of booze) but by Monday afternoon my schedule is packed. The university societies are running taster sessions all week long, and I've already highlighted the ones in my brochure that I want to attend. I have a 'college day' on Thursday, which is actually just a half-hour in the morning where I'll meet my tutor group.

And there are the nights out.

There are three main clubs in the town centre that everyone seems to be going to: Bucky's, Colosseum, and Yanks (which I'm informed is short for Yankee Doodle, but nobody calls it that because it's, to quote the girl who told me, a shitty name for a nightclub). There are a couple of others, but I'm informed they're not really worthwhile.

I haven't been out yet, but I know what the culture is like: friends from home, who went to uni last year, have all told me stories about random people they kissed in clubs, or even went home with. Even the more sexually-conservative friends.

It's bizarre to think I might be one of those people.

Monday night I'm booked for a white t-shirt social with the Law Society, where I've already met a couple of other first years to hang out with.

I leave my room just as Kian is coming back to his, looking sweaty and muddy and seriously hot.

Like, stop for a second and catch your breath, hot.

Nobody should look that good when they're in such bad need of a shower.

It's so not fair.

I told my best friend from back home, Alysha, about how I think there could be a little spark between me and Kian. "I mean, I just keep catching him looking at me. Like he's interested, not like I stink of BO or something."

"Don't even go there," she advised me. "Trust me honey. Sleeping with someone you live with is not going to end well. You're stuck with them for a whole year. Plus, think about it: even if everything was great and you guys were completely in love – he's from New York. He's leaving in what, ten months? And you'll never see him again. Whichever way you look at it, sweetie, this is a terrible idea."

Since Alysha didn't take a year out like I did, and has already survived her first year of uni, I figure she probably knows more than me about this.

But still. It doesn't make Kian any less hot.

"Football," he tells me now, as if to explain the mud and sweat.

"Normal football or American football?"

"American football."

"You want to try out for rugby," I tell him. "Way better. You've got the shoulders for it."

I say this as though I am an expert on both rugby and American football. In truth, the only American football I've ever watched is when it's in movies, and I mostly only watch the rugby when the Six Nations is on – my dad is Scottish and my mum is half-Italian, so you can imagine how crazy our house is when it's Scotland versus Italy time.

Kian flexes his arms out, sprinkling some dried mud around my feet. I jump out of the way of it, not wanting to spoil my new Converse.

"Going somewhere?" he asks then.

"Law social," I tell him, and pluck my t-shirt. They only had extra large or small left when I signed up for the social, and rather than squeezing myself into one that didn't fit, I opted for the too-big one instead. I tucked it into a pair of shorts, but now I'm worried it doesn't look right.

I'm usually pretty comfortable and confident with myself and what I wear, but shallow as it is, I want these new people to like me and I'm worried I'll be judged as someone not worth talking to if I look out of place in any way.

"Cute," is all Kian says.

Even though that relaxes me, I pretend to not need the validation. I give him a beaming smile. "I always am."

Kian pulls his key out of his pocket. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do. Which," he adds, after a second, "isn't much."

"Funny," I respond. "I'm starting to wonder if all this talk is just you compensating for something."

He laughs. "Gotta have a big ego to match –"

"Don't even."

"Hey, you brought it up."

I just give him a deadpan look in response.

"See ya later, princess."

"Fuck off," is all I manage to respond, because I don't really know how to take him calling me 'princess'. But I do know it makes me blush.

The social is pretty good fun, and I make a few friends, exchanging numbers and adding each other on Facebook. I even find one girl who's also taking French and Law, so we stick pretty close together for some of the night.

I look out for any cute guys, too, and even though there are a few, I find myself comparing them to Kian.

I just can't get him out of my head.

Hello, dear readers! Beth Reekles again.  So nice to see you all back again! Hope you enjoyed this chapter (short and sweet, I know, but I promise there'll be much more drama next time...)

Next chapter is up on July 28th - in the meantime, I'd love to hear your thoughts on Betting Boy so far, and make sure to check out all the other amazing Cheaters Club books!

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