brothers who fought in the Civil War on different sides. Read about them. Learn about them. Write about them. Here's the kicker. Write the account from each brother's point of view. I guarantee you each account will be a much different story."
I have no doubt about that. Honestly, though, as cool as the assignment sounds, I can't say I'm excited about it. Too tired. Too sleepy. Too worried I'm insane.
"Lucien, hit the lights," the professor orders. Lucien complies. The bright light forces my eyes shut. Not a migraine. Not now. "Everybody be sure to grab your assignment from Marcy and have it ready to turn in next week. And remember, this is probably one of your first big written assignments in college. People, I don't expect Hemingway, but for the love of God, use proper grammar. Have a good day."
The auditorium roars with people getting their books together, talking to their neighbor, and putting the little tables back in their proper places so the students can walk by them.
I do the same. From the corner of my eye, I see Hart's still there. He hands the pen back to the dude behind us and throws his backpack on. He takes a few steps away, and then faces me. "Hi, I don't think we've been properly introduced."
I'm fairly sure my heart is going to beat out of my chest, which is ironic since the Hart in my head always says I don't have one. He has his hand stuck out like I'm just supposed to take it and shake the thing that cuts me open every night. So I just stare at it like an idiot.
"Okay…" he drawls out after a couple of seconds. "I guess you are the shy type. Sorry, I just… Sorry. It's very nice to meet you…" He pauses like he wants me to tell him my name. Like he doesn't already know it.
"Gracen," I say, because I just do.
"Gracen. That's a beautiful name." He finds my hand, which is sort of limp next to my body, and takes it upon himself to shake it. "I'm Gabriel. It is very nice to meet you."
Gabriel?
He doesn't wait. Just shakes and goes. And when he's gone, my legs can't take it anymore. I sink to the chair and watch him leave. He talks to other people as he goes. There are no words to describe the jumbled mess in my head right now.
Before he leaves the room, he turns back around and gives me a small wave. His hair is different. A lighter brown. His eyes are light blue. He looks like he's gained a few pounds and lost a few inches of height. He's still in his blue plaid shirt.
Gabriel.
He's Gabriel.
Not Hart.
Not my Hart.
Now, he doesn't even look like my Hart.
Did I take too many meds this morning?
I look down at Danika's desk. The candle is gone.
So is she.
If I don't watch it, I will be, too.
I can't take being in the room anymore, so I stand on wobbly legs to make it to an exit. I have a class in ten minutes, and I should probably try to get there today since I missed it yesterday. It would be ironic if Hart, or Gabriel, had that class too.
My brain hates me.
My legs hate me.
Gravity hates me.
I nearly trip on the step at the last seat in the row when, thankfully, two big strong arms catch me. Funny how I didn't see him there two seconds ago. Then again, it wasn't like I'd been paying much attention. I'd been too busy in my own head. I live there way too much for anybody's own good.
Lucien's bright blue eyes look down on me. "Hey, you okay?"
I sort of want to swoon, except I'm completely terrified from the latest events in the Hart/Gabriel story.
"Yeah. Sorry, I tripped. Seems like you are always there to catch me when I do." I try to laugh. I think I sound more like a dying donkey. Dying donkeys aren't sexy or cute.
"Just in the right place at the right time."
He keeps his hands on my shoulders. I guess to steady me. I can't say I hate it. Is it cheating on Sam if I don't really want this guy to let me go? He has huge muscles under his white button up shirt. I'm not hating it, but I'm hating myself for looking. I shouldn't look. It's stupid to look, because I just freakin' sat
I have no doubt about that. Honestly, though, as cool as the assignment sounds, I can't say I'm excited about it. Too tired. Too sleepy. Too worried I'm insane.
"Lucien, hit the lights," the professor orders. Lucien complies. The bright light forces my eyes shut. Not a migraine. Not now. "Everybody be sure to grab your assignment from Marcy and have it ready to turn in next week. And remember, this is probably one of your first big written assignments in college. People, I don't expect Hemingway, but for the love of God, use proper grammar. Have a good day."
The auditorium roars with people getting their books together, talking to their neighbor, and putting the little tables back in their proper places so the students can walk by them.
I do the same. From the corner of my eye, I see Hart's still there. He hands the pen back to the dude behind us and throws his backpack on. He takes a few steps away, and then faces me. "Hi, I don't think we've been properly introduced."
I'm fairly sure my heart is going to beat out of my chest, which is ironic since the Hart in my head always says I don't have one. He has his hand stuck out like I'm just supposed to take it and shake the thing that cuts me open every night. So I just stare at it like an idiot.
"Okay…" he drawls out after a couple of seconds. "I guess you are the shy type. Sorry, I just… Sorry. It's very nice to meet you…" He pauses like he wants me to tell him my name. Like he doesn't already know it.
"Gracen," I say, because I just do.
"Gracen. That's a beautiful name." He finds my hand, which is sort of limp next to my body, and takes it upon himself to shake it. "I'm Gabriel. It is very nice to meet you."
Gabriel?
He doesn't wait. Just shakes and goes. And when he's gone, my legs can't take it anymore. I sink to the chair and watch him leave. He talks to other people as he goes. There are no words to describe the jumbled mess in my head right now.
Before he leaves the room, he turns back around and gives me a small wave. His hair is different. A lighter brown. His eyes are light blue. He looks like he's gained a few pounds and lost a few inches of height. He's still in his blue plaid shirt.
Gabriel.
He's Gabriel.
Not Hart.
Not my Hart.
Now, he doesn't even look like my Hart.
Did I take too many meds this morning?
I look down at Danika's desk. The candle is gone.
So is she.
If I don't watch it, I will be, too.
I can't take being in the room anymore, so I stand on wobbly legs to make it to an exit. I have a class in ten minutes, and I should probably try to get there today since I missed it yesterday. It would be ironic if Hart, or Gabriel, had that class too.
My brain hates me.
My legs hate me.
Gravity hates me.
I nearly trip on the step at the last seat in the row when, thankfully, two big strong arms catch me. Funny how I didn't see him there two seconds ago. Then again, it wasn't like I'd been paying much attention. I'd been too busy in my own head. I live there way too much for anybody's own good.
Lucien's bright blue eyes look down on me. "Hey, you okay?"
I sort of want to swoon, except I'm completely terrified from the latest events in the Hart/Gabriel story.
"Yeah. Sorry, I tripped. Seems like you are always there to catch me when I do." I try to laugh. I think I sound more like a dying donkey. Dying donkeys aren't sexy or cute.
"Just in the right place at the right time."
He keeps his hands on my shoulders. I guess to steady me. I can't say I hate it. Is it cheating on Sam if I don't really want this guy to let me go? He has huge muscles under his white button up shirt. I'm not hating it, but I'm hating myself for looking. I shouldn't look. It's stupid to look, because I just freakin' sat
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