Chapter 2

Kate and I hoof it across campus as fast as we can without spilling our drinks, or slipping and falling into any snow and ice. We race into our English class, one of the few we have together this semester. Friends since the 6th grade, we were trying to take as many of our basic courses together as we could. Since I was studying nursing and Kate was still undeclared, we didn't think we'd get to take many courses together as we got closer to completing our degrees.

Since we arrived at the last minute, my favorite place to sit (the back row, of course) was already filled. Grrr.

"Sherry! Over here!" Kate called, waving me over to two seats together in the fourth row. A bit too close to the front for my liking, but there weren't many other options. I scrunched my face in discontent, trudging over and slinging my backpack on the floor by my seat as Kate laughed. "Oh quit being so dramatic," she said, rolling her eyes at my behavior. I plopped down in my seat, and the next time the classroom door opened, it was the professor who entered.

"At least we got here before he did," I whispered, taking a spiral notebook out of my backpack.

The professor wrote the course name, number, as well as his name, (Professor Cavanaugh), on the dry-erase board in blue marker. As he passed out the syllabus and introduced himself, the door to the classroom opened again, and two students entered, late. Better them than me, I thought to myself, looking down at the syllabus I'd just been handed.

Feeling a sudden bit of...alarm, was it? I did a double-take, looking up again at the late students. A guy and a girl. The guy pulled off his green beanie, shaking snowflakes from his curls as he scanned the room for open desks. "Is that...," Kate whispered, "Homeless Harry?"

Despite my annoyance, I found myself suppressing a laugh at the nickname, but it was too late. Hearing my laugh, his head quickly turned in my direction, green eyes briefly widening in recognition. A smile flickered on his beautiful lips before I shot it down with my icy blue stare.

"Hurry up, Harry, we're already late," the girl whispered that he'd entered with, clearly agitated. I turned my attention to the skinny blonde he was with, wondering what the relationship was between the two.

Professor Cavanaugh cleared his throat. "Hurry up, you two. This isn't high school anymore." I smirked in satisfaction as he called them out.

They quickly made their way toward two seats in the third row, right in front of me and Kate, but a bit over to the right so they weren't smack-dab in front of us. The blonde made it to her seat easily enough, and Harry clumsily followed, his big feet working against him every step of the way in the tiny aisle, knocking a few students' things out of the way as he hurriedly tried to pass.

I keep my eyes focused on my syllabus as he passes, but I can smell cologne I didn't notice in the coffee shop. He smells nice. Maybe he's wearing that pheromone stuff that draws people to him, otherwise, I have no explanation for the freakishly yet slightly dirty thoughts that are going through my mind at this moment. As I continue to doubt my sanity, my heart beats faster as I hear Kate drumming on her desk with her pencil trying to get me riled up further.

I hear an Irish accent speak, "Dang, Styles, quit knocking my shit around, man," as I hear Harry's boot crunch a textbook. Irish? That's different. Being in London, I'm used to the British accents by now, but once in awhile I hear something different. Surreptitiously, I peer through my eyelashes to see an Irish blonde boy chuckling at Homeless Harry Styles. Harry responds with a grin and a middle-finger salute as he settles into his seat next to his partner in lateness. He must be friends with the Irish one.

As the Professor reviews the syllabus and expectations, I hear some shuffling and look over to see Harry taking off his jacket, revealing a school football jersey beneath it. AH.

Kate and I exchange knowing looks, as I quickly jot down, "Well that explains everything," in my spiral for Kate to see.

She grins and scribbles a response as I sip my chai tea, which is actually quite tasty. Kate taps her pencil and I look down at her note, "Yep. Jocks. Stamina in the bed, rocks in the head." I struggle to hold in my laughter, and some tea goes down my windpipe. I go into a full-on coughing fit, eyes watering and everything. Eyes turn toward me as I try to hide my face behind my coffee cup, my eyes shooting daggers at Kate. The bitch just smiles.

I notice the blonde chick that entered with Harry looking at me like she'd never seen a person cough before. I roll my eyes, looking away, and then back. She is still staring, transfixed by my coffee cup. I follow her gaze and realize she has noticed "Harry" written on my cup. Suddenly their relationship is clarified as I see her look from my cup, then to Harry's cup which is emblazoned with my name, "Sherry." Fuck.

Blondie swivels her head back my way in a way reminiscent of Linda Blair in "The Exorcist," her face looking evilly distorted. Great. Because she dates an idiot jock, now she thinks I'm a whore and that some shit's going on. I hate this bitch already. Always one to add fuel to the fire, I flash her a brilliant smile. As her mouth drops in horror, I add a wink. If she wants to jump to conclusions, I will gladly play along.

Kate's pencil is rapidly scratching out a note in my spiral. "Making enemies on the first day, I see. Way to go!" By now this whole thing is funny to me, and I respond by drawing a smiley face with its tongue out, adding, "Did you expect anything less?"

Before we know it, class is over and I didn't even hear a word the professor said. Kate and I stay seated a minute waiting for the lecture hall to clear of some of the 75 students before we attempt to make our way out.

"Dammit, Kate. You tried to assassinate me in class by causing me to choke on my beverage."

"I can't help it if you have a problem swallowing," Kate retorts, giggling like a crazy person at her own joke.

"Did someone mention 'swallowing'?"

Please tell me that's not Homeless Harry. Please tell me that's not Homeless Harry. My silent prayers are unanswered as I become painfully aware that it is indeed, Homeless Harry. His disgusting comment may or may not have activated a slight pulse between my thighs.

"Well, maybe if I was drinking my beverage of choice, things could have turned out differently," I taunt him. I'm trying to force his megawatt smile into submission, but he remains undaunted. Standing there. Smiling. In some pret-ty tight jeans. Is it warm in here?

The blonde huffs and shifts her weight from one leg to another in annoyance, her eyes flickering over our coffee cups still. I know she is wondering things, and I'm actually enjoying her paranoia.

She possessively links her arm through Harry's, batting her eyelashes at him, even though he's already got more than he can handle with all the crap he's carrying. A sneaky smile slowly spreads across her face much like the Grinch, and I'm briefly distracted by the fact that the holidays are only three months away.

"Did you invite your friend to the party, Harry?" Blondie inquires of Harry, flirtatiously. My wheels are turning as I try to figure this bitch out.

Harry nervously runs his hand through his curls and pulls on his beanie, smiling awkwardly. "Umm, we have a lot of parties at the frat house. We're having one after the first football game this Friday night to kind of get the year started out right."

Blondie chimes in, "I'm Paige, Harry's girlfriend. I usually know all his friends, but I haven't seen you before. You should drop by so we can get to know each other." This chick's pathetic attempt to manipulate me is really lighting up my demon detector.

"My dream has come true. A party with jocks and cheerleaders! What on earth would I wear?" I exclaim in mock excitement as Kate shushes me.

"Thanks for the invitation, we'll see how the rest of the week goes," Kate gracefully takes over, attempting to smooth things out. That's my Kate. The fixer. There's a reason why we're friends.

"Okay, well - it's the house with football-shaped string lights all over it, and team banners in the yard. You can't miss it," Harry says, partly out of obligation to his girlfriend who issued the invitation.

"You should come," he directs toward me, tentatively. "If you aren't a drinker, I'll make you a coffee," his eyes twinkle as he raises his cup toward me in a joking gesture.

Against my will, my lips turn up in a silent smile. What the hell am I doing? Who am I?

Harry's grin widens. Paige clears her throat. I hear her, but don't look away from Harry. Partly because I want to annoy her, and partly because I just want to keep looking at him.

"Alright...," Kate stammers as awestruck at my behavior as I am. "Well, see you around then. Thanks for the invitation!" Then she hurriedly grabs onto my jacket and drags me down the hallway, away from him.