“Yeah, you.”

I turn slowly in my seat, taking in the sight of this massive guy. The row behind me is slightly elevated and he’s looming over me. He has broad shoulders and lean muscles. If we were standing up, I’m sure he’d tower over me. He leans forward, trying to be intimidating. It’s working.

“You know you and your little perfect score just fucked the rest of us, right?” he taunts.

His arms are crossed and there is a scowl on his otherwise delicate face. I stare at him. I don’t know how to get out of this, to get away from him. I want to run away, but I’m glued to this stupid plastic chair.

My blank stare and lack of response seem to irritate him further. His nostrils flare. “Haynes grades on a curve.”

What exactly is he expecting me to do? Apologize? For being smarter than he is? Yeah, I don’t think so.

“I’m sorry?” It comes out as a question, my meek voice undermining the intended sarcasm. Something tells me he wouldn’t have gotten it anyway.

He drops his voice slightly. “How ’bout you pump the brakes for the rest of us next time?” He flashes me a flirtatious smile. The girl sitting next to him, who I’m assuming was the source of most of the infuriating giggles for the past hour, lets out an annoyed sigh while crossing her arms.

He’s either completely obtuse or doesn’t see my involuntary eye-roll, since he continues, “You know, if you ask nicely, I might let you give me a private biology lesson.” He rakes his eyes over my body in a way that makes me feel self-conscious and a little dirty. He licks his lips and my skin crawls.

“Pass,” is my one-word rejection as I grab my bag and walk out of class. The girl next to him exchanges her giggle for a snide cackle.

“Stuck-up bitch,” he mutters just loud enough for me to hear. I pick up my pace and scurry off to the library to study for physics.

After my classroom encounter with the King of the Douchebags, I’m happy to be back in the safety of the library. I pull out my notes and try to focus. It’s no use.

I look across the study hall and replay the first time I talked to Austin. When I propositioned him. My heart flutters. I was so scared. He was so sexy. I bite my bottom lip to keep the smile off my face.

Two hours and forty-five minutes until I see Austin.

Get a hold of yourself, Elizabeth!

I shake the images of Austin out of my head and focus on physics.

Two hours and forty-four minutes…

* * * *

Down to the last few minutes, and I try to steel myself for the moment. It’s pointless. My knees go weak when I hear him knock. My heart stops when I open the door and meet his smiling blue eyes.

“I’ve come prepared this time,” he says, holding up a shopping bag as he breezes into the apartment. I’m amazed how he always seems so self-assured.