can look after myself. There should be no reason why we’d need to cross paths.”
Foster frowns. “If that’s how you want it.”
“It is.” I flee before his friends have the chance to catch up to us.
I’d like to get through today with the tiniest bit of dignity I have left.
“What was on that kid’s face?” I hear one of the guys ask.
So much for dignity.
3
Foster
Ah. Classes. Oh, how I’ve not missed them.
I love this campus. Staying here over summer break when all I had to do was play hockey was amazing. Now it’s back to lecture halls and essays.
Fun times.
Though, thanks to Seth and his organizational wizardry, he showed me how to plan my four-year degree so I could defer all the easy subjects and take the senior classes earlier, giving me more time this year to focus on hockey and the NHL contract I’m chasing instead of academics.
I enter the lecture hall for a junior sports psychology class, and my teammate Jacobs waves me over to where he’s sitting in the middle row.
Someone bumps into me from behind. “Sorr—”
I turn and stare down into the green eyes of the guy who apparently wants nothing to do with me. “Zach?”
He adjusts his thick-framed glasses. “F-foster. What are you …” He glances around the class that’s rapidly filling with mostly jocks, then slumps. “Sports psychology. Should’ve figured.”
“What are you—”
“Everyone take your seats.” The loud, booming voice of Professor Lawrence fills the space.
I expect Zach to leave, but instead, he follows the professor down to the floor and sits at the desk in front.
“Mr. Grant, unless you intend to stand for the next ninety-minutes, would you mind finding a spot?” Professor Lawrence asks.
He had me freshman year for a class I dropped after only a week. Clearly, I’m memorable.
Everyone in the class snickers.
Zach makes eye contact with me, and I feel his stare the entire way to my seat next to Jacobs.
“Who’s the kid?” he whispers.
I shrug.
Then I immediately feel bad. It’s not like I don’t know him. But it’s also clear he doesn’t want my help even if Seth insists he needs it. So, whatever.
Our eyes lock, but he quickly turns away. His cheeks are a little flushed, and he focuses so hard on the laptop screen in front of him I can only figure he’s watching porn.
No man focuses that hard on a computer screen for anything else.
Then again, this is Zach. From what Seth’s told me, chances are he’s got coursework on his screen right now.
Probably more appropriate for class.
What I don’t understand is—
“My TA this semester is Zach Sawyer. His contact details are on the website and on the information sheet being passed around right now. If you need to get in contact with me outside of office hours, you go through him.”
Zach hands out papers to the front row to take and pass backward.
He’s the TA for this class. Sports psychology. Sports. And Zach.
Jacobs leans in. “Are we in the right room? What does that kid know about sports?”
Even though I was thinking the same thing, hearing it from someone else makes me growly.
“He did his undergrad in three years and is doing his master’s in psych. I’m sure he can handle it.” I’m actually not sure he can handle it, but for some reason, I have the urge to defend him.
Because Seth asked me to? Because of something else? I don’t know.
“So, you do know who he is?”
“He’s my brother’s friend. I barely know him.” I feel Jacobs’s eyes on me while I keep watching Zach.
He keeps his head down.
His graphic T and jeans suit him, but maybe that’s because it’s all I’m used to seeing him wear.
It’s weird. He somehow lacks confidence but exudes an I don’t care attitude at the same time.
Maybe I didn’t handle the bird shit incident as well as I could have. I probably should have helped him instead of finding it amusing, but I don’t think that’s the reason he told me to stay away.
I honestly think he doesn’t want me hanging around him.
And that fascinates me.
“Uh-oh,” Jacobs says. “I know that look. You’re not allowed to bang the TA.”
I shush him with an elbow to the gut. “Dude.”
“What? It’s not like no one knows about you. Not after you made out with that frat guy at the Kappa party last year.”
I did more than make out with him, but that’s not the point. It’s not a secret on campus that I swing both ways, but I still don’t go