Page 6 of Palm South University: Season 2

REACHING INTO MY BAG FOR MY NOTEBOOK, I let it drop on my desk with a slap and kick back in my chair. It’s the second week of class, but since I decided to ditch the entire first week of class, being that it’s syllabus week and all, I’m still trying to get in the swing of things. Omega Chi is a great fraternity to be in if you want to have fun. If you want to sleep, on the other hand, not so much.

The professor is already scribbling on the whiteboard as more students file in. She’s odd — just as I would expect an art professor to be. She has wild curly hair and paint-stained overalls like she just came off the set ofShe’s All That. I already know I’ll struggle in this class, but it’s a mandatory course for all Graphic Design majors, so here I am.

I’m debating sneaking in a quick five-minute nap session when Shawna walks through the door to the classroom.

Holy shit.

Sitting up straighter, I watch as her green eyes scan the room from beneath her black frames. Her hair is piled into a messy bun on top of her head and she looks like she just rolled out of bed in her yoga pants and tank top. Still, I feel an uncomfortable pressure in my jeans.

When she spots me, she blinks, almost as if she’s unsure if I’m really there. Then, she smiles, and jogs up the stairs to my desk. I’m about to offer ahellowhen she throws herself into my lap, kissing me like we’re alone. Her hands are on either side of my face, mine find her hips. If it were any other girl, I’d be weirded out or pissed or both, thinking she was under the impression we were dating just because we fucked. But, oddly enough, I’m completely fine with Shawna kissing me where everyone can see.

“Is this how you sayhiwhere you’re from?” I ask when she pulls back. She giggles and slides into the seat next to mine.

“I was just making sure you were still a good kisser. Sometimes when I’m drunk, I think guys are really great kissers and then they end up letting me down when I’m sober.”

“Well?”

She scrunches her nose. “Yeah, you’re still pretty good.”

I can’t help but smile at her. She’s unlike any girl I’ve ever met before.

“You never called me.”

“Well, you see, in order for me to call you, that would have required you actually leaving your phone number.”

She blushes, but just slightly. “True. Tell you what — I’ll give you my phone number, but you have to take me to dinner after class tonight first.”

“Is that so?”

She grins wider and nods. “Mm hmm. I mean, I probably should have made that a requirementbeforeI let you see my nipple piercings, but I’m not exactly a traditional type of girl.”

“You don’t say.”

We’re both smiling, eying each other, sizing the other one up.

I like this girl.

The professor calls the class’ attention, so I lean over to whisper my response.

“Dinner it is. Where to?”

I’VE NEVER WATCHED A GIRL STUFFa fat, chili and cheese covered hot dog into her mouth before, but it’s oddly arousing. Maybe it’s just because I’m stoked she ordered more than just a salad, but I’m just watching Shawna eat, grinning like an idiot.

“What?” she asks around a mouthful.

I shake my head, dunking a French fry into the ketchup on my plate. “Nothing. I’m just impressed.”

“That I can eat a hot dog? What kind of weirdos do you usually take to dinner?”

“The wrong kind, apparently.”

“So true.”

Shawna winks, wiping her mouth with a napkin and taking a long pull from her soda before propping her elbows up on the table. “So, Clinton Pennington, AKA Bear, AKA birthday boy with a magical tongue — I never would have guessed you were an Art major.”

I cock a brow at her tongue reference. “Graphic Design, actually. Are you an Art major?”

“For now.” She smiles, her cheeks pushing her black frames up her face a bit. “Tell me more about you.”