Hendrix ✓

7 ★ You're mine

Not that it matters. This is college, no one cares... at least not about anyone else but themselves. Everyone's just trying to get through. There's no time to look and judge.

There are a few people here, chatting a bit before we have our actual lecture. It's not a very large class at all, and for that I'm thankful. I can't imagine walking in when a whole crowd of people are watching on the sidelines.

Our college campus is historical, so all the wood for the desks is old and hand crafted. I admire the color of it under my fingers, my skin pale in comparison, both in color and beauty. Not that I'm actually very pale at all, I've always been quite tan.

I sit for a while before I pull a notebook out of my bag, and a blue pen too. I doodle a little bit, trying to pass the time a little before the lesson begins. Our sub must be late today too. Figures. The day I'm late and in a hurry happens to be the day that the teacher is too.

The little pictures I scribble calm my ever present nerves. What is up with me today? I got here, everything's fine. Why am I still so anxious?

A hand clamps down on my shoulder and I gasp, jumping in my chair and almost out of my skin. I turn warily to see a cute boy sitting next to me.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you." Dylan holds up his hands to show he means no harm, but I'm not really convinced. I slump down in relief as he has the audacity to chuckle at me.

"Well, you did." I reprimand him, and he displays his adorable lopsided grin that makes girls around campus faint. Not me, though.

Dylan and I are only friends, and no more.

This is the only class we have together, and he is the only friend I have in any of my classes. So it all works out well. He happens to be the guitarist in a band that I've joined, he's fun to be around but he hangs out with a completely different crowd than me... for the most part.

Let's just say he's a player on and off the football field.

"Did you hear about the new teach?" He asks, sliding down into his seat to my left, dropping his feet on top of the desk with a thud. I roll my eyes. He acts like he owns the place.

Dylan never brings anything to class with him, never takes notes or pays much attention at that. Somehow, I'm not sure how, he passes the class easily. His grades on the midterms astounded me.

I look back down at my doodle, resting my chin on my right hand in boredom. I drew a giraffe, albeit not a very good one. I'm not exactly an artist.

"Nope." I reply, shaking my head, "It doesn't really matter though, they never last."

Peeking up at Dylan, I can see he's thoroughly amused when he looks down at me at my amateur drawing. I squirm in discomfort, something about that look he gives me has me uncomfortable, like his eyes can see under my skin.

"Nuh-uh. Not this time, they actually got a real professor. Not some substitute, this guy is permanent. Can you believe that?" I raise my eyebrows, silently telling him to go on.

He chuckles, leaning closer to me until I smell his cologne.

"He's supposed to be this super scary dude. He's like a giant, completely ripped, and he has scars. Terrifying, right? The guy's already a legend. I can't believe you haven't heard about him yet, he showed up a few days ago. Everyone's freaked out but the freak."