Stupid Boy
Page 6
My eyes fluttered, drifted, and with the plan to search for just the perfect specimen tomorrow, I fell asleep.
* * *
In between classes the next day my search began. My heels snapped against the sidewalk as I hurried across campus. Determination made my jaw set; my eyes were peeled, scanning the quad, the walkways—everywhere. I would find my Dare today, no matter what. As I searched, a few caught my eye. Athletes mostly, but it seemed they always had a girl with them. Of course, though, that was a bad boy trait after all. Womanizer. I’d have to be persistent. A little aggressive, maybe. I headed to my last class.
During lecture, my mind focused on one thing. Not Rembrandt, the topic of the day. Instead? Who needed reforming? My eyes moved over the forty or so people gathered in the hall. First, not one Kappa present. And on closer inspection, not one noticeable bad boy type. They all seemed ordinary. Docile. Frustrated, I turned my attention to the notes on the overhead.
After class I set out, more determined than ever. On a mission, I sat on one of the concrete benches and scanned the sea of students milling about the quad. The late afternoon sun waned, and I glanced directly into it. Squinted. Then noticed how the light shimmered against the plum and red and ginger colored leaves of the pear trees. It’d be pretty if fall didn’t lead into the holidays—
“Can you tell me how to get to the observatory?”
The soft-spoken, northern accented voice made me turn my head. A guy; tall, broad-shouldered but not bulky, with dark messy hair and soft brown eyes stared down at me. His eyes were hard to look away from. Smoky. Like expresso beans. And long, dark lashes. I’d never seen him before. And I was pretty sure I’d have remembered.
His mouth lifted in the corner into a crooked smile. Waiting. Those dark eyes watching me closely.
“Oh,” I said, and stood. Smoothing my tailored blazer, I turned and pointed. “Take that pathway there. It will lead you to the Science complex,” I said, and looked at him. “Look for the big dome.”
He smiled fully now, with his eyes and his mouth, and it threw me off guard. “I will. Thanks.”
“No problem,” I answered, and watched him saunter away. He glanced over his shoulder and gave me a crooked grin, then continued to amble toward the direction I pointed him in. And I continued to stare. Leather jacket. Worn jeans. Biker boots. He didn’t exactly look like an astronomy buff. But it was Wednesday, and the observatory was open to the public. I watched him for a few more moments, until a wave of students getting out of class swallowed him up.
I settled back down and examined the crowd for a while longer. Not only did I not find my Dare project, but I soon realized I kept inadvertently searching for the stranger with the smoky eyes and crooked smile. I didn’t see him again, and I was surprised to find I was disappointed in that. The sun began to drop, and the air grew chilly. Fewer and fewer people walked about, the end of the day drawing them back to their dorms, or to the library, or the café, or the pubs. I watched the sky turn several shades of purple and lavender before finally getting up. Tonight was the one night of the week the Deltas had dinner together. We always met at Juno’s on campus, so I hurried across the quad so I wouldn’t be late. The girls were all there, waiting on me when I walked in.
Juno’s was a pretty calm eatery in comparison to the rowdy sports pubs on campus. A shade of Bohemian, a shade of sophistication, the walls were painted in warm colors and decorated with pieces of local campus artwork and antique musical instruments. There was a sitting lounge with a giant sofa, four overstuffed chairs, and a small library of art and music books. I found our usual set of tables, in the corner and beneath a large canvas of a multi-colored knit scarf wrapped around the neck of a marble sculpture of an angel, and headed over. Draping my bag over the back of my chair, I sat next to Murphy. She pushed a small paper menu in front of me. Dinner at Juno’s was just that. Dinner. No official business. No meeting topics. Just the sisters gathering, spending quality time with one another. Most times I’d wanted to skip out. Eating at Juno’s once a week, despite having a student discount, added up. But being president of the Deltas, I didn’t dare.
Murphy leaned toward my ear. “So did you discover a scrummy specimen today?”
I sighed and stared at the menu. Soon the words blurred, and the attractive stranger who’d asked for directions to the observatory popped into my head. “No,” I answered quickly. “You?”
She stared hard at me for a moment. “Codswallop. I can see it in your eyes, Harper Belle. Someone caught your fancy, aye?”
I gave her a stiff grin. “Honestly. I haven’t. Searched for a solid hour after class, but nothing.” I sighed, wondering how Murphy’s perception was so sharp. “Maybe I’m being too choosey.”
“Could be,” Murphy answered, then gave my shoulder a gentle shove with hers. “Don’t fret, love. You’ll find one.” She grinned. “I’ve my keen eye on two, actually.”
My eyes widened. “Seriously? Who?”
Murphy grinned. “Let’s just say when I choose one, I’ll give you the leftover.”
I gave her a sideways glare. “Well, thanks.”
Her grin was crooked and full of mischief. “What are you ordering? And if you say a bowl of soup I’m going to clobber you.”
I shrugged. “I like soup.” Plus, it was the cheapest thing on the menu. It filled me up, though.
Murphy looked at me, with that all-knowing, thoughtful gaze she sometimes had. At times I felt she knew my secrets. Knew everything about me, as if she’d hired a private detective and somehow had found out about my past. Maybe she had. If she did, she’d never once mentioned it. Her eyes softened, and she smiled. “I’ll have soup, too.”
* * *
In between classes the next day my search began. My heels snapped against the sidewalk as I hurried across campus. Determination made my jaw set; my eyes were peeled, scanning the quad, the walkways—everywhere. I would find my Dare today, no matter what. As I searched, a few caught my eye. Athletes mostly, but it seemed they always had a girl with them. Of course, though, that was a bad boy trait after all. Womanizer. I’d have to be persistent. A little aggressive, maybe. I headed to my last class.
During lecture, my mind focused on one thing. Not Rembrandt, the topic of the day. Instead? Who needed reforming? My eyes moved over the forty or so people gathered in the hall. First, not one Kappa present. And on closer inspection, not one noticeable bad boy type. They all seemed ordinary. Docile. Frustrated, I turned my attention to the notes on the overhead.
After class I set out, more determined than ever. On a mission, I sat on one of the concrete benches and scanned the sea of students milling about the quad. The late afternoon sun waned, and I glanced directly into it. Squinted. Then noticed how the light shimmered against the plum and red and ginger colored leaves of the pear trees. It’d be pretty if fall didn’t lead into the holidays—
“Can you tell me how to get to the observatory?”
The soft-spoken, northern accented voice made me turn my head. A guy; tall, broad-shouldered but not bulky, with dark messy hair and soft brown eyes stared down at me. His eyes were hard to look away from. Smoky. Like expresso beans. And long, dark lashes. I’d never seen him before. And I was pretty sure I’d have remembered.
His mouth lifted in the corner into a crooked smile. Waiting. Those dark eyes watching me closely.
“Oh,” I said, and stood. Smoothing my tailored blazer, I turned and pointed. “Take that pathway there. It will lead you to the Science complex,” I said, and looked at him. “Look for the big dome.”
He smiled fully now, with his eyes and his mouth, and it threw me off guard. “I will. Thanks.”
“No problem,” I answered, and watched him saunter away. He glanced over his shoulder and gave me a crooked grin, then continued to amble toward the direction I pointed him in. And I continued to stare. Leather jacket. Worn jeans. Biker boots. He didn’t exactly look like an astronomy buff. But it was Wednesday, and the observatory was open to the public. I watched him for a few more moments, until a wave of students getting out of class swallowed him up.
I settled back down and examined the crowd for a while longer. Not only did I not find my Dare project, but I soon realized I kept inadvertently searching for the stranger with the smoky eyes and crooked smile. I didn’t see him again, and I was surprised to find I was disappointed in that. The sun began to drop, and the air grew chilly. Fewer and fewer people walked about, the end of the day drawing them back to their dorms, or to the library, or the café, or the pubs. I watched the sky turn several shades of purple and lavender before finally getting up. Tonight was the one night of the week the Deltas had dinner together. We always met at Juno’s on campus, so I hurried across the quad so I wouldn’t be late. The girls were all there, waiting on me when I walked in.
Juno’s was a pretty calm eatery in comparison to the rowdy sports pubs on campus. A shade of Bohemian, a shade of sophistication, the walls were painted in warm colors and decorated with pieces of local campus artwork and antique musical instruments. There was a sitting lounge with a giant sofa, four overstuffed chairs, and a small library of art and music books. I found our usual set of tables, in the corner and beneath a large canvas of a multi-colored knit scarf wrapped around the neck of a marble sculpture of an angel, and headed over. Draping my bag over the back of my chair, I sat next to Murphy. She pushed a small paper menu in front of me. Dinner at Juno’s was just that. Dinner. No official business. No meeting topics. Just the sisters gathering, spending quality time with one another. Most times I’d wanted to skip out. Eating at Juno’s once a week, despite having a student discount, added up. But being president of the Deltas, I didn’t dare.
Murphy leaned toward my ear. “So did you discover a scrummy specimen today?”
I sighed and stared at the menu. Soon the words blurred, and the attractive stranger who’d asked for directions to the observatory popped into my head. “No,” I answered quickly. “You?”
She stared hard at me for a moment. “Codswallop. I can see it in your eyes, Harper Belle. Someone caught your fancy, aye?”
I gave her a stiff grin. “Honestly. I haven’t. Searched for a solid hour after class, but nothing.” I sighed, wondering how Murphy’s perception was so sharp. “Maybe I’m being too choosey.”
“Could be,” Murphy answered, then gave my shoulder a gentle shove with hers. “Don’t fret, love. You’ll find one.” She grinned. “I’ve my keen eye on two, actually.”
My eyes widened. “Seriously? Who?”
Murphy grinned. “Let’s just say when I choose one, I’ll give you the leftover.”
I gave her a sideways glare. “Well, thanks.”
Her grin was crooked and full of mischief. “What are you ordering? And if you say a bowl of soup I’m going to clobber you.”
I shrugged. “I like soup.” Plus, it was the cheapest thing on the menu. It filled me up, though.
Murphy looked at me, with that all-knowing, thoughtful gaze she sometimes had. At times I felt she knew my secrets. Knew everything about me, as if she’d hired a private detective and somehow had found out about my past. Maybe she had. If she did, she’d never once mentioned it. Her eyes softened, and she smiled. “I’ll have soup, too.”
