Page 26 of Necessary Roughness
Knox:No problem. I’m sure you’ll find a way to repay the favor.
Me:I don’t think I have to repay anything. I wouldn’t have needed your class notes if you didn’t pester me into leaving early.
Knox:What! All I was trying to do was say hi to you in class. Then you freaked out and ran away.
Me:You didn’t want to just say hi! You wanted to pitch your lets-have-meaningless-sex idea to me!
Knox:In my defense, I was going to wait until after class.
Knox:Gotta go. Study hall. See you in class. I promise to pretend like you don’t exist.
Me:As a bigshot famous football star, you’re probably good at that!
Knox:Wow. Unfair. Now I’m going to ignore you even HARDER.
I grinned and re-read the conversation while I was in bed.Thiswas the most popular guy on campus? Spending his time textingme?
It didn’t feel real.
My Tuesday-Thursday classes were a lot more difficult—two graduate classes sandwiching Creative Writing, the only other gen-ed class on my schedule. Since these classes only met twice a week, each lecture was longer, which made the day feel so much more grueling by the time I walked back to my apartment at the end of the day.
I went to my Art History professor’s office hours to apologize for leaving early on Monday. I disliked lying, but a vague fib about “lady issues” was all it took for my professor to wave his hand and tell me it was okay.
And in the actual class itself, Knox kept his promise. He still had to sit next to me because it was the only free desk when he arrived, but he kept his eyes straight ahead and focused on the lecture. And when class ended, he was the first student to hop up and leave without saying a word to me.
But on my way to my next class, I got a text from him.
Knox:I ignored you so hard. Because I’m a bigshot famous handsome big-dicked football star who’s good at ignoring the peons around campus.
Me:I know you’re mocking me, but I never said you were big-dicked.
Knox:I added that as a humblebrag.
Me:There wasn’t anything humble about it. That was just a regular-ass brag.
Knox:Well, as a bigshot football player, I’m good at bragging.
Me:Thanks for letting me focus during class :-)
I was beginning to feel overwhelmed with my full course load by Thursday. I already had three papers to complete bynext week, along with two exams to study for. It was definitely a blessing in disguise that Troy and I had broken up, because I definitely didn’t have time for a relationship.
But the two football players in my life were a different kind of distraction. I was sitting in Creative Writing, brainstorming what I would write my paper on while waiting for class to start, when I heard a familiar laugh. This was an auditorium style classroom, with tiered seats, and the entrance was down below.
And standing there, wearing a goofy grin, was Logan Hunter.
The professor strode past him and took her place up on the teaching platform, so Logan ducked his head and quickly found a spot halfway up the rows of seats. I had a clear view of his broad shoulders and the back of his head.
Me:Are you stalking me?
Logan:I can’t talk.
Me:Why not?
Logan:Because Knox said you want us to totally ignore you while you’re in class, so you don’t get distracted.
Me:I give you permission to tell me why you’re in this class.
Logan:Is that a trick question?
