What Makes You Different Makes You Beautiful (SYTYCW Top 25) (professional edit)

Chapter Three

Chapter Three 

"Honey, get your little butt out of bed!" Julie squealed the next morning. She was already dressed for the day, in blond pigtails, a pair of Daisy Dukes, and a summery blue tank top. Rosalind yawned, sitting up quickly, glancing at her alarm clock. Damn. She was going to be late for her first college class. She quickly threw off her pajamas and pulled on a pair of jeans and a purple patterned shirt. She grabbed her sandals, her navy blue messenger bag, and was out the door before Julie could say another word to her. She picked up her pace, as she walked quickly toward Harrington House for her first lecture of the day. She entered the room, as quietly as possible, and took a seat in the back. Her professor was male, and he was passing out the course syllabus. She took one from her classmate beside her and quickly glanced over it. She waited a moment, and then her eyes grew large as she turned to look at the front of the room. There stood her professor, Lincoln Ainsworth. Sexy, smoldering, and the look he gave her was purely hurtful. He spoke sternly about the syllabus, his expectations for his class, and how much he didn't tolerate absences and tardiness. She felt so embarrassed after leaving him at the restaurant the night before. She decided that changing the sections of her course was the appropriate form of action, and planned on heading over to the registrar's office to change her schedule immediately following the lecture.  

"He's so hot," a female classmate whispered to her friend, as Lincoln ended the lecture early, telling them to read chapters one and two in their textbooks.  

"Rosalind," he spoke her name from the front of the room, and she blushed. The girl turned to look at her, and her eyes darted open in surprise. She quickly gathered up her textbook, notepad and pen, and jammed them into her messenger bag. "Rosalind." He was now almost right in front of her, and she had no way to avoid him. She looked at him, as he flashed her his dimples. She blushed and felt horrible. She shouldn't have left the restaurant, but she was so anxious and nervous, and she knew it was a mistake. Why was he insisting on speaking to an overweight, homely woman like herself? She didn't understand.  

"I have to go," she spoke quickly, standing up. "I'm changing class sections."  

"Why?" Lincoln challenged her, and she stopped, surprised at his simple question. "Why did you leave last night?" He glanced at her intently. He was a sharp shooter for sure, and didn't tolerate bullshit.  

"It was a mistake," she simply stated, hoping he would back off as her palms became sweaty, and she felt herself shaking. She picked up her bag and swung it over her shoulder.  

"Mistake?" he repeated, completely dumbfounded by her response. Students were starting to fill in for the next class. She turned away, but he gently touched her arm. "You are not a mistake."  

"Yes, I am," she responded, tears filling her eyes, and she left the lecture hall quickly. She found a bench outside of the hall and sat down, catching her breath. She reached into her bag and pulled out her water canister. She felt herself shaking, and the water felt good as it slithered down her throat. She felt herself calming down and her anxiety seemed to relax a bit as the autumn air hit her softly. She took three deep breaths, as her therapist Magnolia had instructed her to do when she felt a panic attack coming on. Instantly, she felt a bit better - that was until someone with cute dimples stood in front of her.  

"Hey," he crouched down in front of her, and he glanced gently into her eyes. "You are not a mistake." She felt tears forming in her eyes as he sat beside her, handing her a monogrammed handkerchief with his initials on it.  

"I'm sorry," she managed to say.  

"Come here, we'll go somewhere more quiet," he suggested, standing up. He held out his hand to hers, and she took it, as she felt sparks radiating through her, her heart pounding. He directed them across campus and into the parking lot. "Do you have any more classes today?" She shook her head as a stray piece of her natural auburn hair fell into her eyes. She tucked it behind her ear and he led her to his car, a charcoal gray Mercedes Benz. He unlocked the door and opened the passenger-side door for her. She settled into his car as he closed her door, and then walked to the other side. He got into the car, and she glanced over at him.