Chapter 4
"The boy who just sat next to you, wasn't he the one who was slapped last time?" Wendy's voice was a mix of intrigue and the thrill of a juicy tweet as she glanced back at Evan, now the picture of laid-back charm by the window.
Sarah muttered a response, her mind a whirlwind of 'why me' GIFs. "Let's find a place to sit."
Wendy blinked, "Hold up, you ditched a perfectly good seat next to Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome, why?"
Sarah simply shrugged, her silence speaking volumes.They settled into a spot that offered the perfect balance of sunlight and solitude, Wendy here to unwind with the tranquility of a library, Sarah to dive into the pages that whispered secrets of worlds unknown.
"Do you want to have dinner together tonight?" Wendy asked, stifling a yawn.
Sarah paused, shook her head, "Nah, gotta work."
Wendy nodded, aware of Sarah's part-time gig, though the specifics remained a mystery.
They left the library at clock struck the half-hour, stepping out into the golden haze of the late afternoon. Wendy, ever the instigator, dragged Sarah towards the basketball court, the air charged with the electricity of a well-curated playlist.
And there he was, Evan Parker, the boy with the gravity of a trending hashtag, scoring points as effortlessly as he collected followers. The court was a storm of cheers and digital hearts, the girls' cries of "Senior, come on" and "Evan Parker, Evan Parker" a living comments section.
Wendy's observation, "This kid is quite popular," hung in the air, but Sarah's attention had already shifted, her thumbs scrolling through the reality of her phone screen. Evan Parker's popularity wasn't breaking news; it was a well-established fact, a pinned tweet in the story of their campus life.
Post-game, as Evan lifted his shirt to wipe away the sweat, revealing a sliver of abs that could trend without a single hashtag, the collective gasp of the crowd was a retweet heard around the world. Annoyance flickered across his features, a fleeting shadow quickly replaced by the nonchalance of an influencer in his prime.
"Did you see the two girls across from you?" his friend teased, a nudge towards the next potential viral moment.
Evan's gaze, filtered through the haze of victory and the sheen of sweat, found Sarah. There she stood, bathed in sunlight, her skin a perfect contrast to the digital world at her fingertips, a real-life encounter just waiting to be double-tapped.Evan lounged against the sun-warmed steps, his legs sprawling out like he owned the place. His buddy, with a grin as sly as a fox, leaned in, his voice dropping to a hushed tone. "Word has it, the chick with the curls isn't just any co-ed—she rolls up in a Tesla, dude."
Wendy Manson caught his eye, her presence commanding the kind of attention that screamed 'woman', not 'girl'. "A mature babe like that? They’re like unicorns," his friend mused, eyes following her every move.
Evan crushed his water bottle, a hollow pop echoing his disinterest. "Is that so?"
"Way hotter than those giggling teens, am I right?" his friend nudged him, practically drooling with anticipation.
A smirk played at the corner of Evan's lips, but he kept his cards close to his chest.
Another of the crew leaned in, his whisper conspiratorial. "But hey, her friend—there’s something spicy about her..."
Two seconds of scrutiny later, the verdict was out. "Not too shabby."
Evan fiddled with the bottle cap, his expression unreadable as the pack dissected Sarah Hayes and her friend like they were the day's special on a menu.
"So, Evan, which one's got your vote?" they prodded, after taking their fill of the visual feast.
Evan's posture was all lazy grace, one hand propping his knee, the other toying with the bottle. His eyebrows quirked up at the question. "Neither's my type."
The friend blinked. "Right, you've got Sophia."
A snort escaped Evan as he stood, dusting off his jeans. "I'm out. This game's gotten old."
-
Wendy and Sarah eventually peeled away from the onlookers, their interest waning. Trudging back to the dorm, they met Chloe and Celine, who came bearing the holy grail of college life—coffee.
Conversations flowed as easy as the caffeine, but as dinner loomed, Wendy decided to dine outside with Chloe and Celine. Sarah, playing housekeeper, took the trash out, her steps leading her to the school gates, where she planned to Uber to her gig.
But fate, or perhaps misfortune, had a black Jaguar roll up instead. Sarah's heart skipped a beat, her feet shuffling back as the window lowered to reveal Evan's smirking face.
"No grub at home. Hit the supermarket with me?"
Sarah hesitated. Three chance encounters in one day? Lady Luck, or rather, Misfortune was practically stalking her.
She shook her head, declining the ride with a polite, "You go. I'll Uber over."
Evan's eyebrow arched, his expression a mix of amusement and challenge. "Who said I'm shopping?"
Sarah's reply was delayed, a hint of sass in her tone. "Then don't."
His smirk deepened, a silent laugh in his eyes. "Guess you're on it then."
The window rolled up, and he was gone, leaving her in a swirl of dust and exhaust.
Exhaling, Sarah caught her uber, not to Evan's but to Wholefoods for some solo retail therapy.
Darkness had settled by the time she reached his place, groceries in tow.
Evan was sprawled on the couch, the glow of a soccer match flickering over his features. He barely acknowledged her entrance, his focus glued to the game.
In the kitchen, Sarah set to work. "Rib-eye steak sound good?"
"Whatever," he muttered, lighting a cigarette, his indifference as thick as the smoke.
With a nod, she attacked the meal prep, the clatter of pots and pans a symphony to her solitude.
Meanwhile, Evan's shower steam mingled with the scent of tobacco. His phone buzzed on the sink.
Cameron's words lit up the screen: "Sarah's different lately..."
He glanced at the message, the water cascading over him almost a baptism.
Yes, she was different. Like a prickly hedgehog.
Evan's torso, still glistening from his shower, was a distraction Sarah tried not to focus on. The scent of his cedarwood shower gel lingered in the air, a subtle but unmistakable reminder of his proximity. She served the food with a grace that belied her inner turmoil, catching a glimpse of his half-smile before retreating to the kitchen.
By the time she returned with the sides, he was already devouring the steak, like a man who knew the pleasures of the flesh—both on and off the plate. "Make sure you're here early tomorrow morning," he drawled, sending a shiver down her spine. "It's the weekend, after all."
"I've got a class. I'll be here at 11:30," she shot back, trying to match his casual tone.
"Starving me, huh?" His voice was teasing, but his eyes... they hungered for more than what was on the table.
She ignored the flutter in her chest, focusing on cleaning up instead. "I'm out," she announced, removing her apron with a flourish.
"Did you eat?" His voice followed her to the door, low and husky.
She faltered, hand on the doorknob. "Yes," came the lie.
"Really?" He chuckled, a sound that seemed to caress her, and she fled before it could unravel her completely.
Out in the corridor, the cold light of reality replaced the warmth of his apartment. She cooked for a living, yet her own table was a barren landscape. Why bother when eating alone was such a joyless affair?
-
Saturday dawned with the usual chaos of dorm life. Sarah's roommates buzzed around, the air filled with the scent of half-eaten apples and spilled secrets. Wendy, ever the mother hen, offered up a slice of fruit, while Sarah settled for the sad comfort of TV dinner.
"You haven't eaten?" Wendy's brow creased in concern.
"Just finished a shift," Sarah mumbled.
"Could've saved you some grub if you'd told us," Chloe said, her words muffled around a mouthful of apple.
Celine, the adventurous one, piped up, "How about we head to the bar later?"
Sarah dumped the food into the microwave. "Let me eat first, then we'll decide."
"I'm craving fancy cock-tails," Chloe announced, her eyes glinting with anticipation.
Wendy grimaced. "I'm not going. Alcohol is a heart attack waiting to happen."
Sarah laughed, tossing a pack of wolf berries at Wendy.
Wendy just stared at the pack, her face a picture of betrayal.
Post her meal, Sarah disappeared into the bathroom to wash off the lingering smell of grease. A hot shower and a shampoo later, she felt more like herself. She settled into her bed with a book, while Chloe buried herself in her studies, Wendy was engrossed in a call, and Celine binged her favorite show.
At 10 PM, Celine shut her tablet with a snap. "Time to hit the bar," she declared, pulling on her shoes.
Chloe let out a whoop, shutting her computer with a flourish.
Sarah shot Wendy a questioning look. Wendy just hugged her pillow tighter. "I... umm..."
"Stop being a health nut for once!" Chloe chided, tugging at Wendy's arm.
"Damn girl, you're strong," Wendy grumbled, but let herself be pulled up.
Sarah chuckled, patting Wendy's leg. "Come on, it'll be fun."
They were diligent students by day, but tonight they were rebels, hungry for life beyond the pages of textbooks and the glow of screens.
They slipped into the night, where the street was alive and the chatter of fellow nocturnals.
As they entered a place popular for Strattons, Sarah couldn't help but think of Evan. The way his eyes devoured her was not unlike the way these revelers devoured their drinks—intense, unabashed, and utterly insatiable. That's when fate, dressed in a white shirt and jeans, decided to play matchmaker. Enter Eric Johnson, our shy knight in denim armor, offering up a table like it was a seat at the round table.
"Mind... join us, fellow Stratton angels?" he asked, eyes darting to Wendy with the subtlety of a neon sign.
The word "Stratton angels" triggered a silent comedy among us. Wendy nearly choked on her laughter while Celine, ever the diplomat, took charge. "Got room for four more?" she quipped.
"Absolutely," Eric stammered, cheeks aflame with the telltale signs of a crush. He led us to our destiny, where we were about to crash the boys' table.
As we strutted behind him, Sarah and I exchanged a glance, our eyes screaming, "This is going to be good." But nothing could prepare us for the sight of Cameron Davis, Mr. Smiles himself, with a grin that could melt the polar ice caps.
Sarah froze, an ice sculpture in the midst of global warming. Cameron, the cheeky devil, greeted her as if they shared a secret the rest of the world wasn't privy to. "Hello, Sarah."
The table was a mix of tension and intrigue, with Nick Wright adding to the testosterone blend. But it wasn't Evan, the man of the hour, just yet. That cameo was saved for a grander entrance.
Cameron played the host, fetching drinks like they were roses for Sarah. "You're welcome," he said, that playful glint in his eye.
Meanwhile, Eric was laying it on thick with Wendy, and Celine and Chloe were diving into banter with Nick and Cameron. Sarah sat there, sipping her drink through a straw, feeling the sweet alcohol fill the void of awkwardness.
Just when they thought the cast was complete, Evan Parker sauntered in, hands in pockets, confidence oozing from every pore. Chloe's eyes lit up like fireworks. "That handsome guy," she breathed out.
Sarah dropped her straw like it was on fire. Evan, with the grace of a panther, sat down and ordered a round. "This is Evan Parker," Cameron introduced, and we all knew the party had officially started.
Chloe was all giggles, recalling Evan's slap-across-the-face fame. Evan's response? A cold, light gaze and a beer cracked open with the finesse of a gunslinger. His lips, glistening with alcohol, were a silent challenge to the room.
Sarah's heart did a somersault, and she had to look away.
