#Nerd

Maybe he could sense my hesitancy. Or maybe he just knew I was really pissed off, because he said, “You know the Omegas have connections with the NFL. A couple of our alumni, retired Omega, are NFL vets.”

I knew that. It’s the main reason I wanted in. The NFL was my end goal, and this was a way in.

“Fine,” I said and opened the door. “I’ll see you at the party tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there.”

I leaned back in before shutting the door. “Thanks for having my back. I won’t forget it.”

“I know,” he replied.

He drove off down the driveway, and I went inside. I walked through the mess they made in my house, kicked off my shoes, and fell into bed.

I had classes in a couple hours and I had to be there. Coach wasn’t too lenient on players who missed them during the season.

But the last thought that passed through my head before I fell asleep was of Rimmel.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Rimmel

By lunch, it wasn’t any warmer than it had been this morning. I was grateful for the boots on my feet because if I was just wearing sneakers, I knew my toes would be frozen.

The sky was dim and gray, the sun only peeking through every so often. The air was blustery; the wind would whip up out of nowhere and brush its cold promise of winter against my cheeks. Brightly colored leaves scattered the ground and somersaulted across campus as everyone moved from class to class.

I skipped breakfast and was starving by the time my lunch break rolled around. Classes had seemed endless today, so I filled some of my time working on assignments while the teachers droned on and on.

The eating hall (or so I called it) sat almost in the center of campus. The building was two massive levels with the campus store filling the lower floor and the eating hall on the top. I guess it was really more of a food court than an eating hall, like the kind you might find at a nice mall.

I walked up the stairs and glanced around, trying to decide what I felt like eating. Around the perimeter of the room were various types of restaurants and eateries. There was a pizza place, a taco place, a deli that made sandwiches and offered a variety of chips. There was a place called The Market that offered salads and fruits, granola bars, and fancy bottled waters. There was also the typical burger joint and a place that had chicken. Over on the far side was a smoothie bar that had a never-ending line. There was even a coffee bar, which was also always packed.

I settled on grabbing a Cobb salad from The Market, a cup of fresh seasonal fruit, and a granola bar (for later). Once I had all that, I got in line at the coffee bar and waited ten minutes to get a pumpkin-flavored latte. They weren’t very popular in Florida, but here in the North, they were practically gold.

The cold I was having a hard time adjusting to, but the pumpkin latte? Yeah, no problem there.

When finally I was handed my coffee, I wrapped my one free hand around it and sighed at the warmth that seeped into my fingers. It was busy in here, like always, and I thought longingly of going back to my room to eat, but I was too hungry to trudge all the way over there first.

I began scanning the room for a somewhat quiet seat, when I saw someone waving in my direction—Ivy. When she saw I noticed, she motioned for me to join her and her friend Missy (who was at the bonfire last weekend).

I couldn’t help but notice the curious stares I got as I walked across the room. It had been happening all day. I knew it was because of the way I looked. There wasn’t anything spectacular about it, but it was better than I usually appeared. In my early class, one girl I’d never talked to before even told me she liked my hair.

As I walked, I glanced down at my messenger bag and the hoodie I tucked over the top, making sure it wasn’t slipping free and Romeo’s name wasn’t suddenly visible.

“Rimmel, hey,” Ivy said, giving me a smile when I approached.

“Hey, Ivy,” I said and then turned to her dark-haired friend. “Hey, Missy.”

I barely knew Missy at all, only from the few times I’d picked Ivy up and she was with her.

“Hi,” she said and gave me a little wave and a curious stare.

“Sit!” Ivy said, gesturing toward an empty seat at their table.

I set down my food and coffee and lifted my bag off my shoulders and draped it over the back of the chair. I saw Ivy glance at the hoodie, and I tucked it into my lap when I sat down. I didn’t want it to get knocked onto the floor if someone passed by. After all, it wasn’t my shirt and I didn’t want it to get damaged.

Yes, and pigs could fly.

Truth was I didn’t want Ivy putting her hands on it. Or waving it around for everyone to see.

“How did your test go?” I asked, remembering she said she had one this morning.

“Crap, I hope I passed,” she said and picked up a giant coffee to sip at it.

Whatever “magic” she worked this morning to make herself look more awake worked. She was dressed in a pair of skintight dark jeans, a white sweater, and an infinity scarf with a red chevron pattern. Before I sat down, I noticed she was wearing her favorite cowboy boots. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail that bounced when she talked and her makeup was carefully applied to hide the dark circles under her eyes and give her a dewy, wide-awake look.

Missy was equally as beautiful. Her dark hair was long and sleek, and I couldn’t help but wonder how she got it so perfect. Her wide gray eyes were done with taste, and she was dressed in jeans, a white top, and a leopard print velvet blazer. I wasn’t one for animal print, but that blazer was totally gorgeous.

“I love your top,” I told her.

She beamed. “Thank you.”

“So, Rimmel,” Ivy said as I broke into my salad and started eating, “have you seen him today?”

“Who?” I asked.

“Romeo,” she said, like it was obvious.

“I don’t tutor him on Thursdays,” I said. “Just Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.”

“Oh, well, that’s still three days a week,” she said. “I wish I was smart so I could tutor him.”

I laughed and so did Missy.

Ivy grinned and took a bite of her sandwich. “You still coming to the game with us?”

“Sure,” I said.

“I like your hair,” Missy told me.

I felt myself blushing. “Thanks, Ivy did it.”

“You totally need to do my hair like that,” Missy told her and launched a Cheeto across the table.

Ivy picked it up and ate it.

A tray with like half a pizza on it and a giant soda plopped down on the table beside Missy, and I glanced up.