Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
This never happens.
I don’t lose my concentration this easily.
If anything, I’m normally too focused. I can make the outside world around me disappear with the mental snap of a finger. It’s an old trick I picked up as a kid, when life got to be too much and I wanted to fade away. I couldn’t fade away but I could ignore everything around me, and it was almost the same thing.
“You ready?” he asks after a few minutes. I’m not, but I nod anyway. “I’ll quiz you first.”
He leans across and gently tugs my notebook out of my hands, his mouth inching up at the sides until a flash of a dimple appears.
“What is anthropology?” he asks, sitting up straight and using a serious professor-like tone. He even pretends to shove imaginary glasses up the bridge of his nose. He’s trying to be cute, trying to make me laugh.
And damn it.
It’s working.
I fight a chuckle before clearing my throat. “The study of human societies and cultures over time.”
“And what does it mean to be human?” he asks.
“That’s a loaded question. Objective too. I don’t think he’s going to quiz us on that, do you?” I ask.
Talon shrugs. “Not sure, but I’m willing to bet you one shark tooth necklace that he will.”
“Then I’ll see your shark tooth necklace and raise you one Hawaiian shirt that he won’t.” My cheeks flush. I’m flirting back with him and I shouldn’t be because I know better … but he’s sitting there all smiles and dimples and acting cheesy and giving me his full attention, and my weak little ego is lapping it up like a kitten to warm milk.
“Talon, hey.” A baby-faced guy with dreads and a linebacker’s build walks into our bubble out of nowhere, his arm outstretched for some kind of football player slash bro handshake. “What’s up, man?”
“Trey,” Talon says as he rises and gives him some kind of half-hug. “Not much, how you doing? You have a good break?”
“Yeah, yeah, man. Haven’t seen you in the gym. You staying on top of everything?” his friend asks. “Don’t let that arm go to shit all because the season’s over. Heard you’re being scouted pretty hard.”
“Been working out at night,” he says. “And yeah, I’ve had some offers.”
“When you going to sign, man?” Trey asks. “You holding out for something? Dude, there are guys who would give their left nut for half of what you’re probably being offered. You doing all right, man?”
I check my watch. I’ve only got another half hour before I have to leave to catch the bus.
“You know how it is. Fine print and hoops to jump through and all that,” Talon says before giving his friend something I can only interpret as a goodbye handshake. “I’ll keep you posted though when it happens. Good seeing you.”
A moment later, the linebacker guy is on his way and Talon settles back into his seat.
“Sorry about that,” he says.
I shrug like it’s no big deal. And it isn’t. I get it. Back in Missouri, the football players at my high school were gods—and not just demigods … actual gods who wielded social power and ruled the school. And the quarterback? He was the god of the gods. Everyone looked up to him. The girls wanted to screw him and the guys wanted to be him. He couldn’t go anywhere without being stopped and bothered—and there were even a few times when people would approach him and ask for his autograph or a selfie. It was usually kids or junior high pre-teens but to them, he was just as famous as Tom Brady. A local hero.
It was cute at first.
Until it wasn’t.
Being the girlfriend of someone like that is the last thing on earth I ever plan to experience again—and I have my reasons.
“Okay, let’s get back on track,” I say. “Ask me something else.”
Talon scans his notes. “Name three different types of anthropology.”
Dragging in a stale breath of library-book scented air, I say, “Biological, social, and archaeology.”
“Perfect,” Talon says, his green eyes flicking to mine. I never realized how brilliant they were before—like a mix between emerald and turquoise.
An older woman in khakis and a PVU polo shuffles toward us, the frown on her face coming into focus. “I’m sorry, but this is a silent study area, not meant for chit chat. I’m getting noise complaints about the two of you over here. I’m going to have to ask that you find a study room or relocate yourself to the outdoor commons.”
I begin to gather my things as Talon apologizes and the librarian disappears around the corner. I have no idea who could have complained as we’ve only seen a handful of people since we’ve been here, but whatever.
“You want to go to the commons?” he asks, referring to the wide-open greenspace outside the library. Most of the time there’s where students play frisbee or hackysack or once in a while engage in LARP gatherings. It’s almost always bustling and noisy and the worst kind of place to study for a test. Not to mention it’s mid-January and brisk as hell. The idea of leaving the toasty library to sit outside and shiver for the next thirty minutes holds zero appeal.