on earth? Seems like the right kind of luck to me.”
She points to Foster. “He’s powerful. We are not.”
“I beg to disagree. There’s power in being different.” Even if I haven’t figured out what that is yet.
“Only so far as people can exploit it.” She cringes. “Here they come.”
I turn and come face to well, chest, with Foster, as the bubbly girl seemingly bounces up to Ray and presses a kiss to her temple. I don’t know what look I’m wearing, but Ray shakes her head.
“She won’t leave me alone.”
“Ray loves me, really.” The blonde hands Ray a drink and smiles at me. “I’m Vanessa.”
“Zach. Are you friends with Ray? She’s very abrasive.” Again, the internal warning that my words probably come across as rude doesn’t hit until I’ve already spoken. I immediately tense up, waiting for the pissed-off reaction I get so often.
Ray snorts. “Are you sure you’re not a robot?”
The tension releases. “Last I checked.” We share a small smile. “You two seem like unlikely friends.”
Ray points at Foster. “Look who’s talking.”
“We’re not fr—”
Foster cuts me off as he loops his arm around my shoulders. “I know you’re not gonna finish that sentence, Zach.”
“I’m not?”
“Nope. We are friends, and this is why: One, I’ve seen you shirtless.”
“When did you see me shirtless?”
“One break when you were staying at the house with my brother. We crossed paths in the middle of the night on the way to the bathroom. Very memorable.” He keeps talking, listing other random reasons why we’re supposedly friends, but how he expects me to concentrate on anything but the weight over my shoulders and the warmth at my side is beyond me. Is it possible to pass out from nerves? Because I feel dangerously close to—oh. I’ve stopped breathing.
I force down a lungful of oxygen, which might actually be worse because I can almost taste Foster’s woodsy aftershave. The smell of his body wash is making me giddy, and I have the most bizarre compulsion to start laughing.
“—and lastly, how can Seth expect me to look out for you if we’re not friends?”
That’s about the only thing he could have said to kill the laugh. I shrug him off and quickly step away. “I’m not a pity case.”
“I never said you—”
“Maybe I should go.”
“Hell no.” Ray sticks out her leg to stop me from moving. “Misery loves company. If I’m stuck here, so are you, baby unicorn.”
“I’m certain it doesn’t work that way.” At least I’m reasonably sure it doesn’t.
Foster tugs on my sleeve and nods toward the side of the room. I follow him because at this point, I’m so far out of my realm of experience that I need him to anchor me. “You okay?”
“Physically, yes.”
“Can you give me a straight answer? You know what I’m asking.”
“I …” Am afraid of saying anything that will make you realize how distinctly uncool I am. “… am a little out of my comfort zone.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“I don’t think you know what it’s like. You’re comfortable everywhere.”
“I pretend to be comfortable everywhere.”
I level him with a look that very clearly conveys my disbelief, and to my surprise, he laughs.
“Okay, so I usually am comfortable. But that’s because I know words can’t hurt me. Who cares what people say?”
“Words hurt. And so do other things.”
“Other th—Zach, has someone hurt you? Seth hinted at something, but—”
I frantically shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. That’s not my point here. The point is we clearly lead very different lives. Societal standards work in your favor. You’re fit, conventionally attractive, smart, and exhibit the traits of self-confidence that people find appealing.”
His lips twitch. “Conventionally attractive? Conventionally?”
“Also not the point.” I can’t help a small laugh.
“You think you’re the opposite of me?”
“Exactly.”
“Hm. I disagree.”
“Based on what evidence?”
Foster’s gaze slowly trails down my body, sending pleasant ripples radiating into my limbs. Then he snaps his head away. “Seth speaks highly of you, and my brother is a picky bastard when it comes to friends.”
That isn’t evidence.
“So am I,” he continues. “And we’re friends, aren’t we?”
“I don’t think we can be.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because I’m your TA. It could be seen as a conflict of interest.”
“No way. Most TAs are friends with the students on some level because usually they’ve been through classes with them. We can be friends. We’re just not allowed to fuck.”
I stare. And stare. Because now he’s gone and put that image into my brain, and I can never unsee it. If he’s expecting a response, he’s going