Chemical Romance by Saffron A. Kent

Author:Saffron A. Kent [Kent, Saffron A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Purple Prose Press, LLC
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

Atlas

Her light brown hair was the first thing I’d noticed the day I saw her.

Which is strange because there wasn’t anything unusual about her straight brown hair. Except that she kept tucking it behind her ear, playing with the ends of it as she sat at the desk, somewhere in the middle, waiting for the professor to arrive.

I’m not sure what drew me to her in the first place. I was already pissed about the fact that I was assigned to work with a new professor that I didn’t much like and who insisted that as his TA, I attend every one of his lectures. Maybe because I wasn’t supposed to be a TA when I was only a junior. But they made an exception because of my grades. Still, it was fucking annoying, sitting in at lectures. Like I had nothing better to do with my time. And on top of that, the asshole professor was late.

For those few seconds, however, my irritation took a back seat because of her.

I watched her pick out her seat. It took her a long time. She went through a fuckton of options before she decided on one that was far enough away from people but was still close enough to the front.

And then, she spent the next ten to fifteen minutes, until the professor arrived, fidgeting. Playing with her hair, flicking the pages of her notebook, looking either down at her desk or at the wall, carefully avoiding any eye contact.

Over the next few weeks, I realized that that was how she operated.

Aloof and alone and away from people.

Sort of like me in that sense.

Penelope Clarke.

I found out her name a few days later, along with a few other things about her. She’s the daughter of our Dean of Medicine. She’s pre-med. She sucked at biochemistry but her organic chemistry was strong. She was good in physics too, and also biology. Her grades were excellent, and they’d be outstanding if not for biochem.

She always paid attention in class, always had her homework turned in on time, always took notes. She wanted to learn, her expression always earnest and her eyes always on the professor, or me if I was filling in for him. Unlike so many other assholes that I’ve had to deal with in the past.

I also knew that she spent most of her free time at the library — early mornings, late evenings, even weekends. She always grabs the table by the windows overlooking the courtyard. She carries orange juice with her wherever she goes, and she usually has no fucking clue as to what goes on around her because her nose is always buried in a book.

Because if she did, she’d know that someone watches her.

Someone knows her little habits, her little tells.

Someone like me.

A stupid fucking asshole.

A stupid fucking dumb asshole. Who kissed her.

No, actually what I did was attack her fucking mouth. Because like a stupid fucking dumb asshole, I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t gather enough strength, enough decency to walk away from her like I should have.

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