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doubted he spent much time in the
university’s state-of-the-art gym. The t-shirt stretched across his belly gave
some sort of “bro” instruction best left unread. Expressive hazel eyes and an
engaging smile that crinkled them adorably were his saving grace in the looks
department.
    “Thanks,
Jacqueline. This saves my ass—I need those extra credit points. See you
Friday.” He snapped his notebook closed. “Unless I accidentally sleep in,” he
added, giving me a genuine smile.
    I returned the
smile as I moved into the aisle. “No problem.”
    Maybe I was
capable of making friends outside of my Kennedy circle. This interaction, along
with the defection of most of our friends to Kennedy after the breakup,
made me realize how dependent on him I’d become. I was a little shocked. Why
had this never occurred to me before? Because I’d never thought Kennedy and I could
end?
    Foolish, naïve assumption. Obviously.
     
    ***
    The room had almost cleared, the
guy from the back row included. I felt a stab of irrational disappointment. So
he’d stared at me in class—big deal. Maybe he was just bored. Or easily
distracted.
    But as I exited
the room, I spotted him across the crowded hallway, talking with a girl from
class. His demeanor was relaxed, from the navy shirt, open over a plain gray
t-shirt, to the hand tucked into the front pocket of his jeans. Muscle didn’t
show under the unbuttoned long-sleeved shirt, but his abdomen looked flat, and
he’d put Buck on the ground and bloody easily enough Saturday night. His black
pencil sat atop one ear, only the pink eraser at the tip showing, the rest
disappearing into his dark, messy hair.
    “So it’s a group
tutoring thing?” the girl asked, twirling a long loop of blonde hair around and
around her finger. “And it lasts an hour?”
    He hitched his
backpack, twitching wayward bangs out of his eyes. “Yeah. From one to two.”
    As he gazed down
at her, she tilted her head and rocked her weight slightly from side to side, as
though she was about to dance with him. Or for him. “Maybe I’ll check it
out. What are you doing after?”
    “Work.”
    She huffed an
annoyed breath. “You’re always working, Lucas.” Her pouty tone hit my ears like
nails on a chalkboard, as it always has when used by any girl above age six.
But bonus—I’d just learned his name.
    He glanced up
then, as though he sensed me standing there, eavesdropping, and I pivoted in
the opposite direction and started walking swiftly, too late to pretend I
hadn’t been purposely listening to their conversation. I wove through the rush
of people in the packed hallway, ducking out the side exit.
    No way was I going
to those tutoring sessions if Lucas attended them. I wasn’t sure what he
meant—if he meant anything at all—staring at me like that during class, but the
overt intensity of his gaze made me uneasy. Besides, I was still in a mourning
period over my recently-shattered relationship. I wasn’t ready to start anything
new. Not that he was interested in me that way. I all but rolled my eyes at my
own thought processes. I’d gone from a marginal amount of interest to a
possible relationship in one jump.
    From a purely
observational perspective, he was probably used to girls like the blonde in the
hallway throwing themselves at his feet. Just like my ex. Kennedy’s titles of
class and then student body president equated to small-time celebrity status,
and he’d relished it. I’d spent the last two years of high school ignoring the
envious girls who dogged our relationship, just waiting for him to be finished
with me. By the time we’d left town for college, I was so sure of him.
    I wondered when I would stop feeling like such a clueless twit for that misplaced trust.
     
    ***
    Landon,
    I’m
having more trouble with the current material than I let on, but I’m not sure if
I’ll ever be able to make it to one of your tutoring sessions. Too bad for both
of us that my ex didn’t dump me