Nineteen

Chapter Six

His eyes follow mine and then shift to my name tag, and I do the same to him.

His caramel eyes scan my tag and say "Emory?"

"Collin?" I respond.

He is dressed in blue jeans, flat bottom tennis shoes, and a flannel shirt. His curly brown hair is wadded up under a baseball cap. He stand much taller than me, but i'm 5'4'', so most people do. 

"Our paper says I have to spend the next hour showing you the campus."

Wait, he's not a freshman?

"Are you not here for the orientation?"

"I'm technically a sophomore, but I took extra classes throughout the summer online. So I actually don't even know the campus myself." He says through a grin.

I can tell he's not from here; he has a rich southern accent.

He's nervous. So am I.

"Which building do you live in, Collin?" I say as we walk through the courtyard to the nearest building.

"I live with some buddies right outside of campus lines. We're not a frat or anything, we're just 10-15 guys that don't want to live on campus." He says without even looking up.

"What are you here for?" Man, I am talking a lot.

"Agricultural studies and an English minor."

"What are you gonna use that for?" 

"You sure do talk a lot." He laughs as he reads the paper in his hands.

"Sorry, I'll save the questions for another time." I grin at him and our eyes meet each other.

His eyes are golden now. I feel my cheeks get warm from embarrassment and I quickly shift and scan the area.

"Um, so where do we go now, this is the gym building." I ask to change the mood.

"Well, I vote we just go and hangout somewhere. You seem like the kind of person who has already researched the campus and visited at least three times."

He's wrong, I only visited once before this, but who's counting.

We sit down in front of a small pond right as it begins to get hot from the mid-day sun. At this time it's around ten o'clock, meaning we only have 30 minutes left until he can turn his time in and gain credit for the orientation.

"So, where are you from?" I ask to break the awkward silence.

"Kentucky.''

He's not much of a talker.

"I'm from Virginia, but moved to North Carolina to be with family when I was three. I used to visit Kentucky often."

But he doesn't respond. He continues to gaze at his phone.

I'm wondering how he is managing to stay in his jeans when it's at least 80 degrees now, but it doesn't seem to bother him.

I check my phone for any messages and none from Bailey- but I'm not surprised.

"Well, it's close enough to 10:30. Lets part ways. I'll see you around."

"Uh, bye then."

He leaves and doesn't even look back.

Here I am, walking back to my dorm, with images of a brown eyed boy ignoring me and neglecting his orientation job.