“Oh nothing. I just like this.”
“What?”
“Standing close to you like this.”
“Oh,” I brilliantly said, no doubt turning bright red. This is, like, a new record for me. Pathetic, I laughed at myself. “I can’t say that I am that adverse to it. Your shirt smells amazing.”
Callum’s eyes squint, revealing a wicked grin. The inside of his left arm rubs against my cheek and sends a spark through my skin, heating up my stomach. My own arm felt too heavy to hold up anymore. He leaned his body closer to mine and the crowd around us turned invisible, leaving us alone with our cumbersome breaths, our chests heaving heavily with anticipation and a promise of things to come. He brushed the hair on my left shoulder back before sinking his face against the crook of my neck and breathing in deeply.
“Have I told you how amazing I find the way you smell? You make me dazed. I feel punch drunk around you.”
The breath I didn’t know I was holding rushed out all at once. I sucked in an even deeper breath when he kissed the little bit of collarbone exposed by my t-shirt so lightly I could barely feel it. It was a chaste kiss but felt so intimate my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I closed my lids to prevent myself from passing out right there and when I opened them, Callum’s face was but a few inches from mine. I could feel his warm breath against my cheek, his lips a provocative invitation. I could only stare as his radiant green eyes searched my face.
“Harper,” he whispered but before he can finish we’re both slammed into the direction we’re travelling as the car comes to a screeching halt.
We can only stand, gaping at the other at the lost moment but something escaped his eyes, making me feel uncomfortable. I thought I read regret in them but what kind, I wasn’t sure. Regret he couldn’t continue? Regret that he stepped over a line?
“Sorry,” he said, “that got out of hand. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s alright,” I offered, hoping the supreme disappointment I was truly feeling wasn’t coming through.
The doors to the car slid open and people started spilling out. Callum took my hand and guided me out to avoid getting trampled. We walked in silence until we reached the doors to NYU’s administration building. Callum grabbed the handle to the large wooden doors but stopped before walking in.
“Come here,” he said, dragging me to the side.
“But you’ll be late,” I said, trying to avoid eye contact so the tears welling up wouldn’t spill over and embarrass the hell out of me.
That’s the kind of humiliation I just didn't want to have to endure. I’d endured all kinds my entire life but this one I at least had control over. I’d be damned if I shed a tear over a boy who owed me nothing because that was beyond pathetic and I was tired of being pathetic. In fact, it was me who owed him and I realized that just because he wasn’t interested in me the way I was interested in him, it wasn’t his fault.
Callum stared up at the large clock on the building’s forefront, noticing the time, and rushed through the doors, dragging me along with him, his previous speech forgotten. We turned a corner and approached a set of double doors. He pressed his hand to the knob but sighed before turning. A young student with insane green spiked hair and a studded collar manned a sort of desk at the front of the room.
“May I help you?” She asked cheerily, wearing a massive smile, negating every assumption I instantly made of her.
“Yes,” Callum said. “I have an appointment with Sylvia Lengrand at nine-fifteen.”
“Of course, if you’ll take a seat,” she said, gesturing to a line of simple upholstered chairs. “I’ll see if she’s ready for you.”
The girl stood, revealing a cute little pixie figure. She was wearing a short black skirt, fishnets, and combat boots that met her shins. She had a black camisole under a shredded t-shirt and piercings in every part of her body imaginable but she was obviously a sweet girl. She was just another walking example of why you should never judge a book by its cover. I can’t stand ‘cover judgers’.
She returned with a petite brunette with brown eyes.
“You must be Callum,” she said with a bright smile, shaking his hand before turning to the girl. “Thank you, Bridget.”
“No probs, Syl,” she answered. “Can I offer you two anything to drink?” She asked us before sitting down.
“I’m okay,” I said.
“Me too,” Callum offered.
“Okay, if you need anything, just ask,” she said before taking her seat again.
“And who’s this?” Sylvia Lengrand asked.
“Oh, I’m sorry, that’s so rude of me. Sylvia, meet Harper Bailey,” he said, bringing his hand to my lower back. Heat pooled into the skin where his hand rested and I wished I could glue it there, permanently. I took her hand and smiled. “Harper was accepted here and I’m trying to convince her to attend.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful! I’m glad you came, then. I’m just the person to talk you into it,” she winked, pulling my hand toward her. “Alright, this way, love birds,” she said, walking toward the back.
“Love birds?” We said in unison.
She stopped and gawked at us. “I’m so sorry. Did I assume incorrectly? You just seem so comfortable with the other. I apologize. I’m always making a fool of myself with you young folks.”
“Oh, it’s okay. I was just curious as to what gave us away,” Callum said, poking me in the ribs with his elbow.
Oh good gracious, I think I’m in like with Callum Tate. Sylvia smiled and opened her office door.
“Take a seat,” she said.