Next to You

Chapter One

"Hey Mia, are we still riding together? It's almost time to go!" I stepped into my roommate's room and plopped down onto her bed. Turning to my side, I watched as she put the finishing touches on her makeup and started to gather her things into her backpack. It was the first day of our sophomore year of college, and we had plans to carpool to campus.

"Yeah, and I'm ready!" she answered with a smile as she slung her bag over her shoulder and began to move towards the front door. I quickly followed, slipping into my shoes and grabbing my car keys. We blasted the radio on the way to campus, and soon pulled into the parking garage.

Chatting about nothing, we walked towards the middle of campus, parting ways as our separate class buildings came into view. "See you at lunch!" I exclaimed, and she answered with a wave over her shoulder.

Stepping into the math building, I quickly found my statistics class, and took a seat near the back. I didn't want to sit too close to the front, out of fear of being called on by the professor. Class was just getting underway when I sat down, so I pulled out my binder and pen, preparing to take notes. About five minutes into class, someone flies through the back door and slings themselves into the seat beside me. Without even looking up, I attempt to move my bag out of the way of their feet, apologizing for the inconvenience.

"You're fine, totally my fault for being late," the stranger says, and as I look up to make eye contact, he smiles. The most handsome guy I've ever seen sits beside me grinning, and I am left speechless. I can't tell exactly from his sitting position, but he looks to be well over six feet. He's got dark brown hair and bright blue, sparkling eyes. I know that I'm staring, but I can't seem to look away.

In an attempt to dissolve my awkwardness, I smile back at him and extend my hand, "Hi, I'm Olivia."

His smile only widens, and he sticks his hand out to capture mine, "Samuel. But you can call me Sam." Releasing my hand, he glances to the front of the class and the turns back to me asking, "This is Statistics, right? It would suck if I had just gotten the best seat on campus only to be in the wrong lecture hall."

My eyebrows come together, and I give him a clueless look. "The best seat? What do you mean?"

Eyes twinkling, he laughs under his breath and replies, "Next to you, of course."

My heart thuds, and I don't know how to reply. Finally, our stare is broken by the professor calling roll, and landing on my name. I turn to make eye contact with her and raise my hand, so that she can put a name to a face. Returning her smile, I take a deep breath and then look back at Sam. "That was smooth, but I wouldn't say this is the best," I chuckled, shifting in my seat and starting to mark down the first slide of the lecture.

"I guess I'll have to prove you wrong then," Sam retorts, following my lead and starting to mark down the important points and example problems our professor is writing on the white board. "What are you doing after lecture?"

My eyes widen, but I don't look back up at him, afraid he'll see how surprised I am at his forwardness. "Um, I have an hour break, and then Physics in the Science Building."

I can hear a slight tremor in his voice when he asks his next question, "Would you like to get a cup of coffee with me? We could walk to up to Starbucks."

He's nervous! I can't believe he's actually nervous to be asking meout for coffee. I would have assumed that, based on his earlier cockiness, nothing would get him flustered. Turning back towards him, my lips lift into a crooked, close-mouthed grin, and I nod my head. "Sure, I'm always up for coffee."

His smile widens, if that's even possible, and he nods back at me. "Great, I can't wait. But first, let me learn a little bit about statistics, because it's the first day of class and I'm already lost."

I can't stop myself from laughing out loud at his emission. The people in the row in front of us turn around and shoot me a look, but I find it hard to care. Looking down, I focus on the professor and writing down all of the notes I possibly can, already knowing that this class is going to be the death of me. The next 50 minutes fly by, and before I know it, class is over and I am slipping my notebook and pen back into my book bag. Picking the bag up, I slip it over my shoulder and stand up, adjusting the straps. Sam stands up beside me and puts his bag on as well.

"Ready?" He asks me, stepping out of the aisle and starting in the direction of the door. Before he walks completely out of the room, he turns back around to make sure I'm behind him. My heart flutters. It's such a small gesture, but one that means he cares, at least a little bit.

I quickly step up behind him and answer, "Always ready," with a smirk. He returns my gesture and then opens the door, allowing me to slip past him. We head in the direction of Starbucks, making conversation about the exceptionally hot weather as we walk.

All too soon, we make our way through the door into Starbucks. "So, what's it gonna be?" Sam asks, motioning towards the menu board.

Quickly scanning my options, I settle on something simple. "I'll probably just get an iced coffee with cream. It's too hot for anything warm."

"You're right, I think I'll do the same thing," he says as he steps up to the counter. Unlike any other time I had been to the campus coffee shop, there was no line. He orders both of our coffees and begins to get his wallet out. At the same time, I am reaching for my credit card hidden away in my backpack. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices what I am doing and frowns. "Now, sweetheart, did you really think I invited you out for coffee and expected you to pay for it? Please put your money away."

I blush and slide my card back into its pocket. The cashier chuckles at our exchange, and rings Sam up, setting our cups to the side so that they can be brewed. "Thank you," I shyly voice my gratitude, "You know you didn't have to."

"I know I didn't haveto, I wantedto," he answers genuinely.

Wow.I think to myself. This guy could crush me, because it would far too easy to fall in love with him.Our eye contact is broken, once again, by a name being called. This time, though, it is his and it is for our coffee.