Page 8 of Love is Angry

“And what makes you think that?” I ask, slightly intrigued.

“Your smile is warm. You come across as eager to be liked. Correct me if I’m wrong, of course, and I mean no offense, either. I’m just good at reading people. Most of the times I’m right about my first impressions.”

I offer a nod. “Truth be told, you’re not far off the mark. I did promise myself I’d make some new friends in this place.”

“High school was rough, huh?” Cameron chuckles, then glances at the bench. “Mind if I sit with you for a while?”

“Sure,” I reply, keeping my eyes on the cover of my book, which I am now clutching with both hands like it’s the single most precious thing in my presence. A good-looking man is sitting right next to me, and all I can think is that it’s not Rhue. That Rhue would rather tear me to shreds, bit by bit, until there is nothing left but a handful of bones and misery.

This good-looking man is so close to me, and all I can think is that I’m not smelling Rhue’s cologne right now. I’m a fucking mess.

“High school was mostly fine, actually. I just stayed away from people, in general. Of course, that made me antisocial. Some of my teachers were worried. My guidance counselor kept trying to have me screened for autism.”

This time, Cameron laughs. “And this whole time, I thought I was the weird one.”

“Weirdos draw out the weirdos, didn’t you know?” I shoot back with a giggle.

And just like that, the ice has been shattered. Cool flakes fly past my face. The tension oozes out of the gardens, and the impression of a sweet and safe haven returns. I’ve been waiting so long for a feeling like this—the excitement of meeting someone new, the yearning to get to know them better, to peel away at the layers that make them who they are. I’ve always believed that people are made up of stories, some good, some bad, some exciting; and others, perhaps, boring. But they’re allstories, nonetheless, waiting to be told. I was never the type with enough patience to listen to them all, but I did promise I’d open myself up some more.

“So, we’re studying anthropology together, huh?” Cameron says, leaning back into the bench as we both take a moment to look around.

“What drew you to it? We both know it’s not for everybody.”

He nods in agreement. “Oh, it’s not. Anthropology is complex, it mixes history with psychology and sociology… a study of human nature, I suppose. I think that’s what drew me to it, in the first place, the sheer size of anthropology as a discipline.” He glances my way. “What about you?”

“I like studying people. Behaviors. Cultures. Societal tendencies. Trying to understand why one faction prefers one custom but will go to war with another faction because they prefer another custom. We are truly fascinating as a species, and our past can easily dictate our future if we’re not careful. Don’t get me wrong,” I say, and raise a brow, “I don’t mean that in a good way.”

“Ah, then you’re going into politics with this.”

I shake my head. “God, no. I’m minoring in archaeology. I’m going out to explore the world, baby! If I get to curate an ancient collection of artifacts from a long-lost tribe, it’ll be the greatest thing I could possibly do with my life.”

Cameron smiles. “You’re more interested in digging up the past so that the people might look into it as a mirror of sorts.”

“Yes. Look at the Mesoamerican and South American tribes. The Aztecs, the Mayans, the Inca, and their way of life. The mass graves that keep popping up with every archaeological dig. People killing children, innocent children, to please gods that don’t exist so that they might save their empires.”

“Empires which withered and died out, anyway,” he chuckles bitterly. “Yeah, I see your point.”

“The purpose of anthropology is to shine a light on who we are as a species, of how diverse we have always been while sharing this planet, you know? It’s a study of mankind, basically, an in-depth study that shows the good, the bad, and the ugly, too. We’re supposed to do something with that. Maybe I shouldn’t be in charge of the messaging, but surely...you get my drift.”

Cameron stares at me for a while, smiling with what I can only describe as a sense of fascination. His brown eyes narrow into slits, as if he’d like to see me better, or see beyond my face and right into my brain. His lips stretch, two dimples forming at the corners of his mouth. He’s not just handsome. He’s cute. What a lethal combination that can be. Alas, its effect on me is minimal, and it irks me. It’s the assholes we usually have a hard time getting over. Not the good guys.

“I absolutely get your drift,” Cameron finally says. “You’re kicking it old school at the dorms, huh?”

“Cheaper than renting. My dad and I saved up a lot to get me here, the least I can do is make it easier on his wallet going forward,” I reply.

“That’s odd,” a familiar voice cuts through with a chilling hardness that can only be described as raw hatred. “I thoughtmydad would have paid considerably large sums for services rendered.”

Rhue Echeveria stands just a few feet away, one hand casually in his pants pocket while the other holds a leather bag on his shoulder. He looks good. Deadly good. His eyes are black coals with deep blue sparks that threaten to set fire to. my world.

A muscle twitches in his square jaw, and the afternoon light accentuates the cappuccino glow of his skin. Yet for all this splendor he exudes, Rhue rages with spite and fury.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Cameron asks, slowly getting up from the bench. While I find his chivalry appealing, I know it willend poorly for him. Cameron doesn’t deserve to get caught in the animosity between me and Rhue.

“Rhue,” he replies with a dry smile. “We’re all future anthropologists here, aren’t we?”

“Oh, you’re in our class. Cameron. Sorry, I don’t remember seeing you.”

“Of course. You wouldn’t remember anything besides Madison here. That’s her defining feature,” Rhue says without looking my way. “She’s hot. So hot, in fact, that she turns your balls blue. I assume you’ve already fantasized about the many ways in which you’d pound into her with all your might.”

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