"Don't give me love, governed by life,
Limited by these worldly heights."
Higher Place - Dimitri Vegas
I huff out a breath as I push open the door to the lecture hall of my first class at CSU. I'm immediately hit by the blast of the air conditioning, and I take a second to look around.
The place is huge with rows and rows of chairs in a slope. The front rows are already taken, so I walk up the small stairs in between the rows and take a seat somewhere in the middle. I'm a few minutes early, so I pull out my laptop and notebook, preparing my workspace. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot two girls climbing the stairs and taking the seats directly in front of me, a blonde and a brunette with purple highlights in her hair. They're chatting animatedly, and pretty loudly, so I can't help but overhear their conversation.
"Did you hear that Jace Parker is in this class!?" The blonde one squeals, saying Jace Parker like whoever it is, is the best thing on earth since sliced bread.
The brunette tilts her head in confusion. "But he's a sophomore."
Blondie nods in response. "Yeah, but I heard that he decided to pick up this class for extra credit or something. He's so hot!"
"He's not just a pretty face. Jace is captain of the varsity basketball team, CSU's star basketball player." The brunette replies, relaxing back against her seat. "But Nia, don't get wrapped up in him. He's a player. You'll just be another notch in his belt."
The blondie, Nia, pouts. "But he's perfect. God, those eyes can make me do anything."
I scoff silently to myself, rolling my eyes. I know this type of guy. Extremely talented in some sort of sport, popular, unbelievably attractive, has girls on their knees for him, but at the same time, a self absorbed jerk who only thinks with his dick. I tune out their conversation, absolutely not interested in hearing about yet another stereotypical athlete guy who'll fuck anything with a pulse. I'm going through Instagram on my laptop, when the door bursts open, and a loud chatter of laughter is heard, drawing everyone's attention, including mine.
A group of guys walk in, one of them walking slightly ahead of the others.
A mop of thick chocolate brown hair lay atop his head, messily styled. His skin is tanned, the features of his face sharp and chiselled. Even from afar, I can see his bright green eyes, glowing like emeralds. He stands tall, at least 6'7 towering over almost everyone here.
His toned body, and the signature varsity letterman jacket he wears makes it obvious that he's an athlete of some sort. The defined, broad shoulders and the bulging biceps too. He has on a plain white v-neck t-shirt that hugs his built body underneath CSU's signature black and gold varsity letterman jacket. Dark washed jeans clings onto his long, toned legs, Nike high tops on his feet. He's grinning widely at something one of his friends said, showing off perfect white teeth, two dimples forming on his cheeks as he does so. The guy walks with an air of confidence surrounding him, his head held high. Everything about him draws attention, from the way he walks, to his voice, and of course, his jaw-dropping appearance.
Nia grabs the brunette's arm when she spots him, looking at her excitedly. Right then, the guy turns around slightly to take something from his friend behind him. The back of his jacket has the number 08 in the middle, and PARKER in block letters is printed right above the digits. Judging by Nia's reactions, and the way this boy looks and acts, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that this is the infamous Jace Parker.
A scowl settles on my lips when I realise that number eight is my usual soccer kit number as well.
What are the odds?
Jace Parker begins walking up the stairs, his minions trailing behind. They're lost in conversation, barely noticing all the attention they're getting. They sit in the row behind me, much to Nia's delight and my annoyance. The boys behind me are still laughing, and it's beginning to irritate me, so I grab my AirPods and stuff them in my ears, drowning out everything around me until the professor shows up.
And he finally does, a man looking like he's in his late twenties with shaggy blonde hair. He sets his laptop bag on his table, and fixes on the headset that'll help all of us hear what he says through the two speakers placed on the two corners of the hall.
"Welcome, students!" He grins. "I'm Phillip Trent, and I will be your Media Studies lecturer this year. You may call me Mr. Trent, Professor is not necessary."
I chuckle at that. I was told throughout my high school career that college professors are more laid back and chill than high school teachers, it's clear that Mr. Trent is clearly a cool teacher. And I'm glad, I don't want to deal with stuck up, unnecessarily strict teachers throughout four years of college.
"Most of you are freshman, although we do have some sophomores among us. Welcome
to CSU Long Beach, freshman!" He extends his hands with the welcoming grin still on his face. "Without further ado, let's go over the course work for this semester."
Mr. Trent then turns around to begin a powerpoint presentation on the smart screen that's hung on the wall behind him, beginning to explain our course work, the process of submitting assignments and other things necessary for the class. The rest of the class whisks by, and soon enough I'm getting to my feet and heading down the stairs, stepping out into the warm air outside. I begin walking in the direction of the college Starbucks, desperate for some iced coffee, rifling through my texts as I walk quickly.
I'm turning a corner when I collide with someone, my phone falling out of my hands. Pure terror creeps through my veins as I bend down immediately, praying that the screen isn't cracked.
"Oh fuck, I'm so sorry," A guy's voice speaks, but I'm too focused on my phone.
Heaving a sigh of relief when I see it's not cracked, I pick it up and straighten up, looking at the person I bumped into. He's tall, wearing a varsity jacket identical to the one Jace Parker was wearing. Pale blue eyes, so pale that they're almost grey, looking at me apologetically. I take a minute to look him over, my eyes starting from his shaggy hair that's dark brown, peeking out from underneath a white beanie. The varsity jacket that hugs his toned arms, to his pale blue jeans and finally on to his red Jordan's on his feet.
I lift my eyes to meet his, only to catch him checking me out as well, even though I'm not exactly a ravishing sight - clad in a simple grey cropped hoodie and high waisted black leggings, my hair thrown up in a ponytail and minimal makeup.
I'm not the type to dress up for school.
"It's alright, it's not cracked." I let out a nervous laugh, showing him my unscathed phone. before slipping it in my pocket.
He bites his lip, still looking remorseful. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, totally." I smile up at the attractive boy.
"Oh, I'm Nathan." He gives me a swoon worthy lopsided smile in return.
"Jordyn," I reply, shifting from one foot to the other. Nathan tilts his head as he studies me, his eyes landing on the textbook in my arms.
"Freshman?" He asks, probably guessing from my textbook's title, and I nod.
"Yeah, you?"
"Sophomore." He replies. He looks like he's about to say something more when his own phone rings, and he glances down at it.
"Shit." He mutters. "I'll see you around Jordyn, I'm late for practice. It was nice to meet you." He smiles down at me. "Sorry for bumping into you."
"It's alright, I wasn't paying attention." I shrug it off, and he begins walking.
"Welcome to CSU!" He adds, right before disappearing around the corner.
I smile a little, turning on my heel and resuming my trek to Starbucks.