Page 16 of The Fake
“Yes. Exactly.” He picks up a stack of papers on his desk and hands them to the front row. “Take one and pass them around. Seventy-five percent of your grade in this class will come from the semester group project outlined in detail in the syllabus coming around. You will work in groups of two or three to create a pitch for a product not geared toward your demographic. You’ll each choose a product from the basket. Find a partner and then one of you come up front to select your product.”
Panic to find a partner has everyone glancing around the room.
“Go ahead. You’ll have the rest of the class to get these details ironed out, and we’ll reconvene on Wednesday.”
I turn my head just enough to see Nathan hasn’t moved and he’s watching me with amusement. Oh, God, now what?
Emily and Sydney are already huddled together reading the project syllabus and if I ask to be in their group, they’re going to know I lied about Nathan and they may very well say no anyway.
I do a quick perusal of the entire classroom, but everyone is already pairing off. When I glance back at Nathan, the guy next to him elbows him and lifts the syllabus. Nathan says something in response that I can’t make out, but when his blue eyes meet mine, he tips his head to the empty chair on his other side in an unmistakable invitation to join him.
Every step closer to him makes my heart hammer faster in my chest. “Hey, ummm, do you maybe wanna be partners?”
He tries and fails to keep from smiling. “That depends. Are you asking as my girlfriend or as the girl who kicked me out of her room before I’d even got my pants on?”
My face flushes and I freeze, grappling for how to respond.
“Relax, I’m kidding.” He motions again to the chair next to him.
I sit. “I’m so sorry.”
“For which thing?”
This time, at my loss for words, he doesn’t try and hide the giant grin on his face. “This is gonna be fun.”
He picks up the syllabus from his desk and starts to read. I’m still gawking at him a minute later when he says, “If you keep staring at me like that, though, I might get a little creeped out.”
“Sorry.” I duck my head and hide behind the paper. I skim the project guidelines, noting mostly how much time Nathan and I are going to be forced to spend together. If he’s at all put out by the idea, he doesn’t let on. Leaning back in his chair, one leg is stretched out at an angle to accommodate his height. His hair is a little too long on top, but the messy look suits him. So does the scruff.
“So, what do you think?” he asks as he sets the paper down.
“Fine.”
He smirks.
Get it together, Chloe. “Do you want to exchange numbers? It looks like we’re going to need to work on this outside of class.”
Two long seconds pass before he scribbles his number on a piece of paper and passes it to me. “Knew you’d change your mind about wanting my number.”
He stands and shoulders his backpack, giving me a wink before he heads out of the class.
“What about picking our product?” I call after him.
“You pick, let me know what we got when you text me.”
I’m still jittery from my encounter with Nathan when I make the walk from campus to practice. It’s going to be a very long semester seeing him in class three times a week. He’s ridiculously hot and charming and everything I don’t need in my life right now. Volleyball has to be my focus. The other night was… well, it was pretty spectacular, if I’m honest, but it can’t happen again. Not until I’ve proven myself. I need to know that I’m capable of doing it all on my own.
But working beside Nathan all semester is going to be a sweet kind of torture.
I get to the courts one minute before practice—perfectly timed to avoid being in the line of Bri’s wrath for longer than necessary. Standing off to the side by myself while my teammates chat, I strip off my shoes and grab my sunglasses before tossing my bag in the sand.
Coach won’t arrive for another fifteen minutes, giving our captain the responsibility of getting us warm and loose.
“Three laps,” Bri calls out and the team shuffles to the perimeter and begins the run around the courts. I step in line, clearing my head of the day and ready to get to work, but Bri’s voice yelling my name is like nails on a chalkboard. “Chloe. You’ve brought opponent colors to practice.”Shit.I glance toward my Golden team bag. Valley and Golden colors are similar, but I get it. It’s disrespectful, and I hadn’t even done it on purpose. “Since you’re such a fan, today you can practice with the bag.”
She can’t mean I have to carry my bag all through practice. But the icy stare she gives me tells me just how serious she is. I walk back toward my bag with anger radiating. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was steam coming out my ears. Anger at my bitchy captain. Anger at myself for being so stupid. And anger at my parents for my being here.
I loop the bag over my shoulder and step into line a full lap behind already.
