Page 2 of Asher Black (The Five Syndicates)
Truthfully, I’m not actually worried. I’ve always been the kind of book smart that doesn’t require effort, but I know that if I have to, I can always suck it up and study. And it’s unlikely that it will come to that. But I lie anyway.
I’m driven by an irrational desire to keep my sighting of Blue Eyes a secret. Something about the way his eyes ran down my body so intimately—even from the distance of a few feet away— feels private, like it should just be kept between us. Is it against the girl code to see a hot guy and not point him out?
I wouldn’t know.
Aimee’s my only friend, girl or boy, and I’ve only just met her.
I don’t dwell on that depressing thought, because Aimee is already scoffing. “Please. I’ve seen your schedule. You’re in classes with names I can’t even pronounce let alone understand.”
That’s true. My major at Wilton is Bioinformatics and Genomics. When I showed her my schedule, Aimee told me that the name of my major is enough to give her a headache. She’s a business major, though, and I know that alone is an impressive feat.
Wilton has the best business program in the nation, even better than Wharton’s. With an admissions rate below one percent, the admissions process is incredibly selective and includes a series of interviews that occur over the course of a year. For Aimee to have been admitted means she’s not only brighter than most people but also well-spoken.
Naturally, the first thing she said to me was, “I need to get laid. Are you up for a round of club hopping? Or are you going to be one of those buzzkill roommates that hates my guts?”
I didn’t want to be a buzzkill, so here I am. Plus, finding a no strings attached one night stand doesn’t sound like such a bad idea. I haven’t had sex in years. And judging by the way my body reacted to Blue Eyes, I’m long overdue for some special attention from a man.
Zeke whistles, reminding me that he’s here. He has an impressed look plastered on his all-American, pretty boy face. “You two go to Wilton?”
Among the small pool of Ivy League schools, Wilton is at the top. The name comes with a lot of prestige. And of all the Ivy League schools, Wilton is the only one where donating a building can’t buy your acceptance or gain you favor. Intellect is valued over money, a rarity in this world.
I can understand why Zeke is looking at Aimee with even more intrigue. He knew that she was pretty, but now he knows that she’s smart.
Aimee nods before dismissing the topic. “Yes, but that’s boring.” She gives him a flirty grin. “Let’s dance. I can barely hear you guys anyway.”
She has a valid point. With how loud the music is, I’m impressed that we’ve been able to hold a conversation. I look between the two of them. Aimee’s giving Zeke her bedroom eyes, and I know that if I follow them to the dance floor, I’ll just be the third wheel.
No, thank you.
So, when Aimee turns to me and nods her head toward the dance floor, I shake my head. “I’m going to go to the restroom and then maybe find a cute guy to dance with.”
Aimee nods in approval. “Text me when you’re ready to leave.”
I agree, even though we have yet to exchange numbers. And then they’re off. I watch as Aimee leads Zeke toward the center of the dance floor, her hand holding tightly onto his. The crowd parts for her like she’s royalty. She certainly looks like she’s somebody.
I smile. I like Aimee. I really do. She’s quirky, but quirky can be good. Plus, it’s nice to meet someone who’s confident but not cocky. Kind but not a pushover. Interested but not nosy. She’s the baby bear to my Goldilocks—just right. I can already tell that she’s going to make a great roommate and maybe even a friend someday.
I watch Aimee and Zeke for another moment. They were holding hands when they left me, but now they’re pressed tightly against one another. Aimee looks happy and in her element, so I decide to leave her and Zeke alone for the rest of the night.
And then it’s just me here, and I can’t help but feel like, no matter where I go and who I meet, it’ll always just be me.
Chapter Two
All our dreams
can come true, if
we have the courage
to pursue them.
Walt Disney
“If I step outside for a minute, can I come back in afterwards?” I ask the man guarding the door to what I think is a side exit. I’ve been dancing in the club for almost an hour straight without a break. My feet ache, and I’m in dire need of fresh air.
He glances at me, roaming his eyes up and down the length of my body in a violating scrutiny. It’s the same look the bouncer gave Aimee and me earlier, full of unrestrained judgment, contemplating whether or not we’re good enough to be here.
To my relief, he nods. “Knock three times when you want to come back in.”
