What is the worst thing imaginable? Traffic.
I had been rolling behind the same dark blue minivan for the past half hour. I think our top speed had reached about 15 miles per hour.
The fact that I was slowly working my way through this sea of cars to get to the University of California Los Angeles really proved the love I have for my brother. Kade is a professor of European History at UCLA; I will never understand how he could have picked such a boring subject to study and teach.
While he was working on his history degree in college, I had been majoring in something much more interesting: photography. I currently work for National Geographic as a photo editor, but I've been hoping that soon I will be promoted to field work.
Back to the present, I'd finally gotten off of the freeway and was now trucking my way through the streets of LA. I live in the city and I love it, but I don't think I will ever love the traffic.
Finally, I pull onto the campus and start the search for a parking space. Ever noticed that universities never seem to have enough parking? I drove around the beautiful campus, passing trees and brick structured buildings. After spotting nothing, I decided to pull out my iPhone, click to the Favorites and autodial my big brother's phone number.
"Nyla? Are you here yet?" he answered excitedly after the first ring. Though he was a fully grown man at the age of 26, he still could get worked up about me visiting him. "Yes," I laughed, "where are you at? I can't find any parking."
"Go park by the Starbucks, my class just ended so I'll head over and meet you there," he answered.
Satisfied with that answer and craving my morning tea, I mumbled a quick parting greeting before ending the call and tossing my phone onto the passenger seat and quickly making a right-hand turn into an open space I had miraculously just spotted. Starbucks was just a block away, and I figured a little walk and some fresh air would feel nice after such a long drive. Plus it was amazing that I had found a space here at all.
I shoved my phone into my large leather bag, quickly getting out of my green Mini Cooper. I locked the doors and hopped up onto the sidewalk, successfully bumping into some passerby and nearly falling back into the street. Thankfully, my victim had phenomenal balance and cat-like reflexes. He didn't budge as I face-planted into his chest, and he grabbed onto my waist, pulling me back onto the sidewalk just before a car drove by.
I looked up with awe into the gorgeous green eyes of my current savior, only to see him looking back at me with worry through his thickly rimmed Ray Ban style glasses.
"Are you ok?" he asked, a Texan accent tingeing his voice. I think I looked back at him with surprise for too long before finally answering. "Yeah, I'm fine. I think you just saved my life."
He chuckled lightly while slowly removing his hands from my waist, leaving my skin cold in their absence.
"The speed limit here on campus is only twenty-five, I don't think you would have died," he retorted with a smirk.
I smiled, admiring his sense of humor and his angular face. "Fine, you saved me from a trip to the hospital at least," I said while whipping my long blonde hair over my shoulder.
Running a hand through his short brown hair he replied "Whatever you say, ma'am."
I giggled at the thought of being called "ma'am," I'm only 23, not nearly old enough for that. I held my right hand out towards him. "I'm Nyla, by the way."
"Anderson," he answered. Instead of shaking my hand, he grabbed it, pulling it up to his lips and kissing it gently.
Returning my hand to my side, as well as trying to hide the evident blush on my cheeks, I asked "Are you a student here?"
