So I was sitting in my Music Composition class feeling kind of content.
It was the only class I’d been looking forward to because, well, I was majoring in Music and it was kind of my life.
There was something about music that gave me a sense of freedom. There were no limits to what I could create. There was nothing holding me back. Music let me be who I really wanted to be. I just wished my parents could understand that.
As I took in the surroundings of the room, my eyes fell on a girl who had just walked into the class. Was that our teacher? She was definitely dressed as the part, even though she looked way too young.
I studied her in disbelief as it hit me that she was a student. She had on a sweater and a collared shirt on underneath it. She was wearing a knee-length pleated skirt that looked like it’d been ironed. Like with an actual iron.
Dude, who the fuck bothered to iron anymore?
The entire outfit was finished off with black leggings and brown Mary Jane’s that were almost the exact same color as the pleated skirt. Way too much effort had gone into coordinating that outfit. Seriously, who had the time to worry about that crap?
And it wasn’t even attractive. I mean, to be fair the girl wasn’t bad to look at. She was tall, had long brown hair, a pretty face, and as she turned to take a seat at the front of the room, I could tell that she was curvaceous and had booty.
Damn. She was completely my type. Too bad she dressed like a librarian.
My attention shifted to the front as the professor walked in. She was one of the younger
faculty and I’d seen her around before. From what I’d heard she wasn’t a hard ass, so this was going to be a pretty easy class to pass.
Professor Thomas—that was her name—began by describing the project we would be working on this semester. At first, I was stoked to learn it was a songwriting assignment, but when she announced that we would need to find a partner to work with, my enthusiasm disappeared quickly.
Great. That was the last thing I wanted to do. I hated doing assignments with someone else or in a group. You never knew who you were going to end up with and how much effort they would put in. Especially when it came to a class like this that was actually important to me.
As I glanced around the room, I saw that everyone was already pairing up. A couple of the other students shot me looks of apprehension, like they didn’t know what to make of the big, tatted up guy sitting in the back of the room.
My eyes fell on Librarian Girl—her head was bowed, but I could see that she was chewing on her bottom lip and looking completely uncomfortable. That was the universal sign for “I don’t want to be partnered with anyone”.
A smile crept onto my face as I realized that she was probably hoping that she wouldn’t have to pair up with anyone if she was the only one left without a partner. That’d kind of been my plan, too. I wanted to do this on my own and I didn’t need anyone holding me back.
My smile quickly disappeared when it hit me that everyone had paired up and that Librarian Girl and me were the only two left unmatched.
Professor Thomas walked over to Librarian Girl and pointed toward me. The girl glanced back at me and nodded reluctantly at the professor before grabbing her things and heading my way.
Shit.
She stopped at the desk next to mine and seemed nervous as she made eye contact with me. “Professor Thomas said that we should pair up since there’s no one else left in the class.”
“Sure, whatever.”
I hadn’t meant to sound so brash, but I could tell from the way her eyes grew wide for a second that I’d come across as a jerk. Great. Just what I needed for the rest of the semester—to be stuck with a girl who was sensitive as hell. “I’m Chase,” I said, in an effort to redeem myself.
Librarian Girl bit down on her bottom lip again and that’s when I noticed how green her eyes were. I’d never seen a girl with eyes so green before, and I took a moment to admire them. This girl had a lot going for her.
“I’m Hailey.”
“Cool,” I said with a nod.
Hailey gave me a tight smile and began arranging her things on the desk. I watched in amusement as she placed red, blue, and black pens on one corner of the desk and then proceeded to set her notebook on the opposite corner. Finally, she pulled out a planner, uncapped the blue pen, and began scribbling away furiously in it.
What the hell? Who had time to keep a planner these days? Was this chick Amish or something? Didn’t she know that an iPad organized shit way better?
Maybe Hailey was anal retentive. No one organized stuff like that except for my parents. And they were fifty. Things like that really pissed me off. Why did some people have to have a goddamn plan for everything? Why couldn’t they just let life come to them?
I could already tell that this Hailey girl and I weren’t going to get along, but somehow I had to make it work if I wanted to do well in this class.
I leaned in toward her. “Uh, so what kind of music are you into?”
Hailey jerked away from me and slammed her planner shut as though she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to be. This girl was seriously weird. Her cheeks were starting to flush a little. “I, um, I like indie-stuff— ” “You mean that artsy-fartsy shit?” I interrupted her.
“Yeah, I guess someone like you would think that.” She rolled her eyes at me. “I don't know, I guess I like just about everything— ”
“Even country?” I interrupted her again.
“If the lyrics are good.” She shrugged defensively before continuing, “I'll listen to pretty much anything except that screaming crap that tries to masquerade itself as music.” She eyed me up and down. “I can only imagine what kind of music you listen to.”
“I like rock, punk rock, heavy metal, stuff like that.”
Hailey made a face like I’d told her that I liked to skin puppies. “Why am I not surprised?
How can you like that stuff? It just sounds like noise to me.”
My eyebrows shot up. “It sounds like noise to you? Well, clearly you know nothing about music.” Hailey’s nostrils flared a little and she shot me a deathly glare. “I know enough about music to know when something is good, and the loud, banging drums and banshee screeching is not good.”
Holy shit. Had she seriously just referred to my favorite genre of music as screeching? Yep, this was definitely not going to work out. Hell no. This stuck-up girl—attractive or not— was not going to be my partner.
“You know what else isn’t good?” I stared her down. “People who are pretentious.” Hailey’s cheeks flushed and she narrowed her eyes at me before dropping her head and continuing to write furiously in that planner of hers.
Jesus. Of course I had to get stuck with the weird, anal retentive girl.