Breath leaves my lungs in a harsh whoosh from a mixture of surprise and impact.

“Girls normally at least buy me a drink before feeling me up.”

I steady myself and glance up into the most startling pair of gray eyes I’ve ever seen, peeking out at me from underneath the rim of a black baseball cap. Their stormy color match the annoyed expression of the stranger I’m currently pressed against.

I inhale sharply. “Well, I’m fresh out of cocktails at the moment,” I reply, dropping my hands from his muscular chest and taking a step back so we’re no longer touching.

The guy looks momentarily startled, as though he didn’t expect me to respond to him. He quickly regains the same arrogant, vexed expression he was wearing before I spoke.

“Then at least look where you’re going,” he lectures me haughtily.

I scoff. “Advice better suited for the guy who almost just ran me over, don’t you think?”

“He wasn’t the one who just collided with me.” The guy flashes me a condescending smirk, and my temper flares.

“Next time I’ll take my chances with the skateboard,” I retort. “Couldn’t possibly be worse than talking with you.”

I don’t wait to see if he’ll respond, brushing past him to stalk over toward Katie. She’s stopped a few feet away on the opposite side of the path and is staring at me in shock.

“Do you know who that was?” she asks when I reach her side.

“An arrogant jerk?” I fume.

“Jace Dawson!” Katie exclaims. I can practically see the stars in her eyes.

“That name means nothing to me.”

“He’s our quarterback. The hottest guy at Lincoln,” she informs me. “Everyone on campus knows who he is. He’s like royalty here.”

I laugh at the irony of her statement. “I don’t see the appeal.” That’s a lie. Until he opened his conceited mouth, I was struck speechless by the sight of his chiseled features and the feel of his muscular body.

Katie gives me a look that clearly indicates she doesn’t believe me, but she doesn’t comment further as we continue on the tour of campus. As promised, she brings me to the school store at the end of the tour, and I pick up a couple of posters along with a Lincoln pennant to hang on my currently empty wall.

The following morning marks the first day of classes. Although I didn’t choose Lincoln for its academics, I discover I love the courses I selected, particularly the philosophy one. Part of the novelty is the knowledge they’re subjects I chose myself, but I’m equally buoyed by the fact I walk to the classes alone, or with Katie, rather than with a group of armed agents.

My parents call at the end of the first week, and we have a long conversation. As soon as I’ve finished answering their questions about Lincoln, my mother launches into a rendition of all the gossip she heard at her latest board meeting. My father remains on the line, despite the fact I suspect he’s already heard it all once before. While I’m usually annoyed by her speculating, I’m surprised by the amount of nostalgia I experience listening to her. It feels like we’re all sitting together at dinner rather than thousands of miles apart.