Page 5 of Burn Bright
Ben
Unless you’re trying to forget?
“Sorry to bring it up,” he says out loud. “I know it wasn’t a great day for you.”
I shrug. “It happened, it passed. I’m not letting it fester or anything.” I wrap my arms around my legs, bringing them closer to my chest. “You know, I saw online that you were transferring here,” I say, resting my temple against the cupboard.
He does the same, looking at me. “Tabloids?”
“Yep. Sorry to say you weren’t a headline, just a footnote.”
“That’s preferrable,” he breathes. “The siblings and cousins who are headlines have it harder. My fame is easy in comparison.”
I nod. “How long have you even been on campus?”
He checks the time on his blue-plated Omega watch. It’s one of the only evident signs of his wealth right now. “Two hours. This is actually my first time at MVU.”
I frown. “But you toured the campus and met Cameron Dun-fuckface weeks ago, right?”
Ben laughs, the corner of his mouth pulling higher. It sends a flutter throughout my entire nervous system. I don’t know what it’s like to be overcharged. I probably exist on 30% battery life. I’m not chipper. I’m not fucking bubbly, that’s for sure. If I’m a dying battery, then I’m also a flat beverage, but who cares?
I’m not trying to be Miss Energizer Bunny.
I tear my gaze off his.Get it together.
Some of his brothers can be described as lethally charming, and he could fall into this quadrant of the Venn diagram too.
“I never took a tour,” Ben admits as his smile softens on me. “I just met Cameron and half the row team an hour ago.”
Of course he did.
Ben isn’t a loner. He’s not a loser.
He’s a social fuckingbutterfly.Who could make friends with the sun, the moon, and a trashcan. Within an hour or less.
And he’s out of his mind. “You’re seriously unhinged,” I say. “You transferred to this college without ever stepping foot here when you were going to an Ivy.”
“You transferred too.”
“I bought a brochure. I took a three-hour tour. I made an Excel spreadsheet listing the financial expenses of this move—not that you’d need to do that.”
“I did Google search MVU,” he smiles, almost teasingly.
“Oh, heGoogle-searched.” I mime pompoms to cheer him on, my lips somewhat rising with his. “That has to at least dock you a point or two with the studious fam, Cobalt boy.”
“Probably five points. Don’t tell my mom. She’d have a heart attack knowing my research consisted of typing inManhattan Valleyin a web browser and not a one-on-one with Dean Ferreira.”
“Like I would ever come face-to-face withtheRose Calloway Cobalt,” I say without thinking. His mom is a certified bomb-ass-bitch, and I would idolize her feminine ferocity if I didn’t prefer hero-worshipping the dead. The dead can’t disappoint you as much as the living.
“You never know,” Ben says like life has taken stranger turns. It causes the air to tense and for the focus to draw to us.To how we’ve run into each otheragain.How we’re on a collision course. Our eyes clash in the sudden quiet, fighting to stay glued for longer than a couple seconds.
“How’d you hear about this party anyway?” I ask.
“Through a friend of a friend who knows Leif Westergaard. He’s president of the frat.”
“Already three-degrees from the Kappa prez,” I tease.
He laughs, then checks the time again. “I’ll probably head back to Philly in a couple hours.”
