Authors: Leanne Davis
The Wrong Sister (35 page)
But she wasn’t in high school anymore. No one could make her stay. No one even cared if she did. Rushing after Derek, in one of the only spontaneous actions she could remember taking she sprinted after the guys. They were stopped outside the hallway, near a closed door discussing something intently. They slapped hands together in some kind of strange guy-like handshake, and then they nodded and turned from each other and started in opposite directions. The kid walked back into her class. Derek was going the other way. Spurred forward by something, she called after him, “Derek! Wait!”
He froze and spun around quickly with a dark scowl on his face. She paused, her smile of hello, slowly fading. He then seemed to mentally shake himself. His face eased into a smile and the hard distrustful look left his eyes as they scanned over her. She dearly wished she’d had even an ounce of girlie inclination. “Hey. Are you in this class?”
Did she sound too hopeful? She might have. She might sound a little too desperately perky he might be in her class.
“Uh… yeah. Sure. Just forget my… stuff. Be right there.”
“Oh. That’s cool. I mean, I am too. Dreading the paper, but I wanted to get it out of the way.”
“Yeah, me too. So… I’ll see you in there?”
He seemed impatient, like he had to go. She nodded and twisted her hands before her. “I’m in the third row back. There are lots of empty seats if you…”
His expression softened again and he seemed to shake his head for some reason. “Third row. Okay, Olivia. I’ll be right in.”
She smiled and turned quickly and nearly ran back to her seat, cowering down and mentally doing a high five. She had not only approached him, spoken almost coherently, but managed to convince him come sit near her. And he did. Five minutes later he came in. He didn’t carry any kind of backpack, but had notebook like hers. She smiled when he sat directly behind her. Her entire body went rigid and she was useless the rest of the lecture. She could picture Derek’s gaze on her. Which she highly doubted it was. But she wanted it to be. But that want also made her completely self conscious. She turned her seat just a little so it looked like she was crossing her legs when really she was checking to see what he was doing. He noticed and lifted the side of his mouth and tilted his head as if to say “hey” to her. She could feel the burn of her flush, but she smiled too.
She wrote what the professor said but none of it entered her conscious brain. She’d have to study it all out of the book. Boring. She was a better auditory listener, than reading and studying. That’s why she was so conscientious about going to class. She always had been. But she still planned to be. It made no sense to her to pay all this money for the privilege of higher education and then skip out on it. Yet, she swore every other classmate around here gushed on and on how great it was not to study or be accountable to classes. Huh? Then what exactly were they there for? From what she could see when she glanced back at Derek every few minutes or so he seemed to be listening and taking notes as well. The hour ended. Her blood started warming again in anticipation. Should she try to talk to him again? Or just play it cool and give him a friendly smile?
He was exiting the row to the right, she did so too, a few steps behind him, so she could follow his lead. Wait, what was this? He stopping, looking back at her, for her. He was specifically looking for her. Her heart tripped and she had to instruct her feet not to speed forward to see him. He’d figure out she was delighted he was waiting for her.
He smiled when she entered the stairway. They had to wait off to the side to let other students filter past. Finally they could enter it and head towards the double door entrance together.
“I think I grew a few gray hairs while he talked. Jesus, what an airbag.”
She smiled and pretended to laugh, even though she didn’t totally agree. Professor Donnelson was extremely nice. He put a lot of work into everything he presented and often interacted with the class, where so many professors barely even glanced up or seemed to care they were supposed to be teaching them anything. Many treated the underclassmen as if they were a big, giant stepping stone to get onto the stuff that mattered. Donnelson seemed interested in the success of even the freshman.
“Yeah. Yeah, he is,” she muttered annoyed with herself for not sticking up for the professor she liked. But it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like Donnelson would ever know she was bad mouthing him. But still, she didn’t like pretending.
But then… Derek smiled. It started slow and spread into his cheeks where a dimple indented his cheek and his eyes, such dark eyes absorbed all the light in the room it felt like. “You just totally blew shit up my ass. You liked him. Your laugh was fake.”
She glanced up startled he noticed and called her on it. She shrugged while her face exploded in blush as she dropped her face to her feet. “Well, he seems to try harder than some to teach us. You know? Like he cares. I guess, I appreciate that.”
She was shocked when he set a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, “You’re right. People caring is good. Being a airbag doesn’t mean he isn’t a good teacher.”
“I have Math 205 next. What do you have?”
“Ah, break. Nothing up for a few hours. So, you coming to class tomorrow.”
She made a face. “You’ve probably already figured out the answer to that hard riddle.”
“Straight A student?”
“Mmmhmm,” she said noncommittal-like.
“So class at nine no matter what?”
“Yes. No matter what. Will you be there?”
He didn’t answer. When she glanced up he was staring at her with a frown and his eyes had gone weirdly intense. “For you? I might brave nine o’clock. See you, Olivia...”
She was blushing. He was going to quickly figure out she didn’t have much experience if she didn’t start acting a lot more blasé. But like make-up she didn’t see the point of pretending to be whatever she wasn’t. “Lindstrom. My name is Olivia Lindstrom.”
“Derek Salazar.” He grinned then, took her hand in his and shook it. Only it wasn’t a normal handshake. It was holding her hand in his while his gaze roved over her face. His index finger rubbed the inside of her hand in a way that suggested other things he could rub. She burned up while her eyes widened in shock he was so forward. But she didn’t drop his hand. She surrendered hers a limp, useless appendage she didn’t seem to control anymore: he did. He finally let go of her, smiled and turned to leave.
For her he might be there? Her heart simply melted. Holy crap! She already had raging crush and it was only a week into school. How had she not spotted Derek before now? Hard to say, but now that she had, all the other boys seemed to pale and blur. He was like the vibrant, color, HD TV picture and the rest of them all the old black and white, snowy TV pictures.
She watched him leave and then spun around and nearly squealed as she mentally skipped off to her math class. In reality she walked quickly and quietly, but inside her heart was dancing.
****
Why the hell had he stayed? Derek crossed across the campus and toward the park. He didn’t bring his car. Too obvious. Too traceable. The bus and walking got him the few places outside his neighborhood he ever needed to be when dealing. Carter usually ran the supplies onto the physical campus. He was a sophomore there, and Derek usually kept him supplied with a pharmacy of inventory in exchange for a huge cut. Carter sold to the student body in ways Derek couldn’t. Today’s payment assured Carter he’d have his stuff by tonight. It was rare Derek came on campus. Carter hadn’t had the money last week and had needed a few days to scrounge it up. Derek was glad he did. Carter was a rich prick whose parents had all but wiped his ass his entire life. But when dad put him on an allowance, the prick decided he needed more. More got him hooked up with Quentrell, and from Quentrell to Derek. But working for them cost steep. And if Carter didn’t pay, Derek was going to have to tell Quentrell. One thing Derek didn’t do was handle the collection of late fees or payments. He wasn’t the muscle. He was always sorry if he had to report someone to be “handled.” But he’d long ago realized it was better their ass than his. He kept up his end of the business it was up to them if they didn’t there’s. They knew the risks and rewards of this business, and both were great.
But Olivia Lindstrom had come after him. He’d had a moments fear a client recognized him. Clients were something he ever wanted to run into. Especially here on campus. He would be lost and unable to fulfill his quota for Quentrell if he lost the revenue from school pricks. If campus security realized his presence was nefarious he’d be shut down. So he rarely appeared here. Only today because he’d felt kind of sorry for Carter. He’d been sweating even when he handed over payment. Derek hoped it was enough.
But it hadn’t been a client it had been that girl. Olivia. She had been nearly running after him. He couldn’t mask his surprise. She wore loose riding brown cargo pants, with tennis shoes and white tee shirt. The only thing of interest was her tee shirt leaving her arms exposed and bare. They were long and skinny and he’d determined she had no boobs whatsoever. If she wore a bra even under the white T, he’d be shocked.
Still those eyes… they were nearly hypnotic. They were so deep a color of blue, and kind of child-like the way they tilted up on the ends. They were guileless and wide and so hopeful he’d say he was in the class. What had he been thinking to say yes? To then, actually show up in the glass? He paid some kid twenty bucks for his stupid spiral and pen so he didn’t look like he’d been lying to her. What kind of play did he think he was running here? Why didn’t he just ask her out? The interest was there in her eyes. He could see it. In the way she tried to pretend she wasn’t checking him out. She was hyper aware of him.
The thing was he’d felt that way a little bit about her too, which wasn’t something he felt. Ever. For no girl. But a little half girlish, flute playing, straight A college freshman? Yeah, not his type. He could simply just disappear and never show up near her again. That’s what he should do. What was he going to do? Show up at nine o’clock here and sit through a lecture just to see some chick. Some little virgin who probably wouldn’t even put out anyway. For by her body language toward him she was either a virgin or close to. She wasn’t experienced that was for sure.
It would take him an hour to get here. He’d be getting up at freaking dawn for what reason? Some little piece of tail that probably would be lousy in bed anyway?
Still… that smile. It was so sweet. Could anyone really be that way? The way she’d stuck up the for the teacher, well, that wasn’t something he expected.
He could play it off to Carter he was just keeping an eye on things. Being a presence for Quentrell. Carter had gotten too pushy of late for more of a share. Maybe this could show him Derek was
there.
Maybe reminding Carter who Derek represented would get him to shut up before his big, bragging, arrogant mouth got him thrown in a body bag.
Yeah, that was why he might come back to this piece of shit place and class. To teach Carter a subtle lesson.
And the girl? Well they were always dispensable. He’d yet to meet one that wasn’t.
He grinned and tossed the notebook into the trash bin. But taking it from a rich little virgin would definitely be worth a few of his mornings.
Stay tuned to my website
www.leannedavis.net
for more information on
The Years After
. Release Date: April 15, 2015.
The Other Sister (Sister Series, #1)
General Travis Bains has two daughters, one who is good, and one who is bad. Everyone knows Lindsey is the good one, and Jessie is the bad one.
Jessie Bains is the other sister, the bad sister, which she has proven more often than not, until the day she gets kidnapped and brutally raped. Will Hendricks, one of her father's soldiers, rescues her and brings her home, but fears she may be nearly destroyed by what is done to her. The most important thing, however, is that no one can know, per the general's orders.
Jessie's life was always far from normal as the daughter of one of the most revered generals in the world. No one sees what the general does to Jessie, except Will. When Will discovers the danger Jessie is living in at her father's hand, he once again rescues her. Will has survived the horrors of war, but is now engaged in a battle that has become far more personal and far more deadly. Will alone realizes what the general has done and will do to destroy his "other" daughter.