Page 2 of Cloudless
A LITTLE SUNSHINE
LILA
My backpack feels like a solid weight on my back as I run through the door with a minute to spare. I let out a relieved breath when I realize I won’t be late for my first day of classes.
I quickly scan the room before I’m ducking into the last row of seats. I would normally be at least a middle-of-the-room person, if not nearly-a-front-row person, but this semester will have to be different.
My butt has just contacted the seat when the professor takes his place at the podium. His eyes are red, and his tie sits slightly crooked as it falls down his chest.
He moves the projector remote around in front of him as he tries to read the text on the buttons. A relieved breath flows through my lips as my back molds to the seat cushion.
The murmurs of voices swallow the metallic sound of the zipper on my backpack opening.
My hands freeze over where my notebook and fresh case of pens should be as I stare at the mound of pink in my bag.
With a barely suppressed groan, I shift through the glittery supplies a certain someone with pigtails must have left in my bag this morning.
Looks like Posey and I will be having a talk about personal space when we get home. Again.
I collect a fluffy, pink pen, a sparkly coloring book, and an entire case of scented markers on my desk—and still no notebook. The extra weight on my back during my mad dash from the parking lot makes so much more sense now.
A relieved breath leaves my lips as my notebook comes into view at the bottom of the bag. I’m not even mad at the bend in the lower corner or the pink stain on the cover. I’m just thankful I won’t be taking notes in the margins of a coloring book.
Unfortunately, my new pack of pens is still MIA. Looks like it's going to be a fluffy, pink pen kinda day.
My breathing slows, and the tension leaves my shoulders as I open the brand new notebook. The untouched paper feels smooth under my fingers as I angle the notebook in the perfect way on my desk.
Bright light flashes through the room as the professor finally clicks the power button for the projector.
His voice is as slow as his movements as he says, “I’m Professor Mills.
Welcome to Negotiation Strategies.” His footsteps echo throughout the quiet room as he takes a stack of papers to the front row.
“Take a syllabus and pass the rest back.”
I’m practically giddy as my eyes lift to the front of the room. A meticulously laid out plan on a single sheet of paper is exactly what I need to set my life back on track.
I can’t keep the smile from my face as two printer-warmed papers land in my hands.
A throat clearing next to me has the papers floating to the floor like a leaf from a tree as I nearly jump out of my seat.
I can hear the laugh in the stranger’s deep voice as he shifts in his seat at the end of the row.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to scare you. ”
I lift my eyes from the scattered papers on the floor to find a hulk of a man sitting at the end of my row. A Summit State University hat sits so low over his eyes that I can hardly see them. “Oh, um, it’s alright. I just didn’t see you there.”
His smile shines brightly with the dim lighting of the overhead lights that doesn’t quite reach the corners of the room. “I’m not surprised, seeing as you ran in here like your ass was on fire.”
I’m thankful for the dim lighting that conceals my blush. The ends of the ribbon holding my ponytail in place fall over my shoulder as I lean forward to get the two papers off the floor. My voice falls to a whisper as I say, “Rough morning.”
His seat groans under him as his shoulders shift toward me. “Well, you know what they say about rough mornings?” I shake my head as I dust off the floor crumbs from our papers. “The roughest mornings can turn into the brightest days. All it takes is a little sunshine.”
I furrow my brows as I hand him his slightly dented syllabus. “I’ve never heard that before.”
The cockiest smirk I’ve ever seen pulls at his lips as he takes the paper from my outstretched hand. “Probably because I just made it up.”
My ponytail sways behind me as I shake my head. A reluctant smile touches my lips as I say, “You are so full of shit.”
He shrugs as he places his paper on the notebook in front of him. “Maybe, but I made you smile.”
Heat envelopes my face as my thumb strokes over the face of my mom's watch on my wrist. The cool glass feels smooth against my overheated skin.
I jump as Professor Mills clears his throat next to me. His crossed arms and raised brows have me sinking down into my seat. “Sorry to interrupt your conversation, but some in this room are here to learn.”
The creaking of a seat at the end of the row draws the professor's eyes away from my overheated face. “Sorry, Professor Mills. It was my fault. She was just being a good sport and helping me out with the syllabus.”
Professor Mills’ arms fall to his sides as he lets out a tired breath. “Don’t let it happen again, Mr. Stryker.”
The professor’s footsteps fade as my eyes fall to the man next to me. His smile grows as he takes in my wide eyes. His eyes fall to my lips as I mouth, thank you .
With the dip of his chin, his eyes return to the front of the room. His hands dwarf the notebook in front of him as he pulls a pen out of the notebook rings. The click of his pen feels far louder than it should in the quiet space.
The gentle scratching of his pen on paper produces a calming melody that soothes my racing heart; a melody that not even the glitter from my fluffy, pink pen scratching against my skin can take away.