"So."
I recognize the voice, just by that one word; I hear it everyday. I look up from my textbook to meet its owner.
It's Tanner, one of the members of my squad, and my usual back spotter. He's tall and lean with bulky arms, as if he was made for the position. Out of any of my teammates he's the most tolerable by far—I actually quite like him, as much as I can really like anyone these days. I guess it probably has a lot to do with the fact that I have to trust him to catch me when I fall—literally. If I were to call anyone a friend it would be Tanner
And maybe now Halston? Although I'm still so confused about all of that. He's...something. That's all I can really say for now.
He pulls out the chair in front of my table and takes a seat on it backwards, facing me with a devilish grin on his face, like he's up to something.
"Who's the hottie?" He asks, resting his elbows on the tabletop and cradling his chin in his large hands
"Huh?" I mutter with a pop of my gum. He rolls his eyes and folds his arms over his chest.
"The guy whose car you got out of at Messer Hall this morning."
I lean back in my chair and cross one leg over the other, bouncing my foot up and down.
"Oh. Him." Tanner smirks. "He's my neighbor."
"Neighbor with benefits?" He questions with a wiggle of his brow.
"Is that even a thing?" I exclaim, playing up my response just a little. He shrugs. "No, he's just my neighbor. My car is out of commission so he gave me a ride. That's it."
My response is mostly true, but there's something inside of me telling me that's not it. I would never tell Tanner that, though. It's hard enough to admit it to myself. I've already told him more than I feel comfortable sharing; for reasons unknown even just the mention of Halston turns my world upside down.
"Hm," he grunts. "That's too bad. He's sexy. In a mysterious, bad boy type of way." The look on his face is almost wistful, as if he's lost in thought thinking of him.
"I can put in a good word for you if you want," I joke, kicking his foot under the table.
He cackles, his voice loud and obnoxious, echoing off the walls of the lecture hall.
"I appreciate the offer, Ry." I cringe at the nickname. I hate nicknames. They're too personal. Everyone who has ever given me a nickname has let me down in some way. So, to me, they are associated negativity. "I think he's more your type than mine."
"What do you know about 'my type'?" I can't help but be slightly irritated at the statement.
"Not a damn thing," he deadpans. "You're not exactly an open book." There's a reason for that, I want to say. But I don't. "He's the first person, outside of the squad, I've ever seen you really talk to. And you sure looked at him like he's your type."
Did I? Surely not. Surely Tanner's just trying to get a rise out of me.
It's working.
Besides, Halston is not my type. Sure, he's good looking. Really good looking. And kind. And we apparently like the same music. But I don't have a type. My type is 'alone', and a little kindness won't change that.
The professor walks into the room through a side door and I'm, for once, thankful for her lecture on the Civil War to start. Tanner is forced to go back to his seat on the other side of the room, and I can go back to ignoring everyone around me and jotting down ideas for a song.
Not long after the professor's monotone voice fills the room, my phone buzzes on the table beside me, a text from Halston.
My mouth becomes dry, my heart increasing its tempo, two things are are completely abnormal for me.
Halston- What time is your shift over?
It was his idea to exchange numbers before we parted ways this morning, in case of an emergency, he said. I had been a little too willing to give mine to him, considering the fact that I've declined the same request from the majority of my squad members.
Me- 9. I'll catch the bus. One comes by at 9:15.
Those three dots pop up on my screen almost immediately, his response coming through shortly after. I glance up to the front of the class to ensure the professor isn't paying me any mind, then look down and read the message.
Halston- Like hell. It's dangerous to be alone after dark.
Me- Why do you even care?
My clipped response is almost instantaneous. I can't help it. He's kind of infuriating.
Halston- I just do. I'll be there at 9. Now pay attention to the lecture.
I squint my eyes and furrow my brow, utterly confused how he knows I'm in a lecture. Probably a lucky guess. This is college, after all.
Me- Stalker, much?
Halston- I'm in this class.
I jerk my head up and try to glance around me inconspicuously.
Another text comes through.
Halston- To your right.
I turn my head to the right and, sure enough, there he is, on the other side of the room, staring back at me. A small smile forms on his lips; my nostrils flare. I look away, unable to hold his gaze any longer, the unfamiliar feelings he's provoking are hard to handle.
Me- Since when?
Halston- Since always. History buff?
Me- Not in the slightest. Needed the credit. You?
I can't help but smile as I hit send.
Halston- Die hard. Catch you later.
His sudden end to the conversation is unnerving, but it's not the first time he's done it, or even the second time. It's almost like he pulls away when he feels he's in too deep. I usually do the same. But not when it's concerning him.
I look ahead, my eyes catching those of the professor who sports a disapproving glare, and I make a show of shoving my phone in my bag.
I ignore it the remainder of class. But i can't ignore Halston. I feel compelled to look at him.
And every time I do he's staring right back.
