Read Easy for Free Online

months.

 
    Chapter 4
     
     
    Arriving a minute before econ began
Wednesday morning, the last thing I expected to see was Kennedy, leaning on the
wall outside the classroom, exchanging phone numbers with a Zeta pledge. Giggling
after snapping a picture of herself, she handed his phone back. He did the
same, grinning down at her.
    He would never smile at me like that again.
    I didn’t realize I
was frozen in place until a classmate shouldered into me, knocking my heavy backpack
from my shoulder. “’Scuse me,” he grumbled, his tone more Get out of the way than Sorry I ran into you .
    As I bent to retrieve
my backpack, praying Kennedy and his fangirl hadn’t seen me, a hand grasped the
strap and swung the pack up from the floor. I straightened and looked into
clear gray-blue eyes. “Chivalry isn’t really dead, you know.” His deep, calm
voice was just as I remembered from Saturday night, and from Monday afternoon,
across the Starbucks counter.
    “Oh?”
    He slipped the
strap back onto my shoulder. “Nah. That guy’s just an asshole.” He gestured
toward the guy who’d bumped me, but I could have sworn his eyes raked over my
ex, too, who was crossing to the door, laughing with the girl. Her bright
orange sweatpants said ZETA across the rear. “You okay?” For the third
time, this question, from him, held deeper significance than the usual,
everyday implication.
    “Yes, fine.” What
could I do but lie? “Thank you.” I turned and entered the room, took my new
seat, and spent the first forty-five minutes of class fixing my attention on
Dr. Heller, the whiteboard he filled, and the notes I took. Dutifully copying
charts of short-run equilibrium and aggregate demand, all of it seeming like so
much nonsense, I realized I would have to beg Landon Maxfield for help after
all. My pride would only cause me to slide further behind.
    Minutes before the
end of class, I turned and reached into my backpack as an excuse to sneak a
look at the guy on the back row. He was staring at me, a black pencil loose
between his fingers, tapping the notebook in front of him. He slouched into his
seat, one elbow over the back of it, one booted foot casually propped on the
support under his desk. As our eyes held, his expression changed subtly from unreadable
to the barest of smiles, though guarded. He didn’t look away, even when I
glanced into my bag and then back at him.
    I snapped forward,
my face warming.
    Guys had shown
interest in me over the past three years, but other than a couple of short-lived,
certainly never revealed or acted-upon crushes—one on my own college-aged bass
tutor, and another on my chemistry lab partner—I’d not been attracted to anyone
but Kennedy. The economics lecture reduced to background babble, I couldn’t
decide if my response to this stranger was lingering embarrassment, gratitude
that he’d saved me from Buck, or a simple crush. Perhaps all three.
    When class ended,
I packed my textbook into my backpack and resisted the urge to look in his
direction again. I fiddled long enough for Kennedy and his fangirl to leave. As
I stood to go, the persistently sleepy guy who sat next to me spoke.
    “Hey, which questions
did he say to do for the extra credit? I must have knocked off for a few
seconds right around when he discussed those—my notes are indecipherable.” I
glanced at the spot he indicated in his notes, and sure enough, the scribbles
became less and less readable. “I’m Benji, by the way.”
    “Oh, um, let’s
see…” I flipped through my spiral and pointed to the assignment details printed
across the top of the page. “Here it is.” As he copied it, I added, “I’m
Jacqueline.”
    Benji was one of
those guys to whom adolescence hadn’t been kind. A scattering of acne dotted
his forehead. His hair was overgrown and curly—a skilled stylist could tame it,
but he was probably a fan of the eight-dollar place featuring flatscreens of nonstop
ESPN. Given his doughy midsection, I