Romancing the R.A. (Campus Crush series) (2 page)

“Then you’ll have plenty to talk about.” Julia gives me a devilish smile.

I sit through the rest of the dean’s lecture, which takes until lunchtime. The man must like the sound of his own voice, and I’m willing to bet he’s the only one. I can’t complain too much, though, because my mystery guy and I get to continue flirting—well, with our eyes at least.

“I’m starved,” Julia says, as we get up from our seats and make our way to the door. People are shoving to get out of here. I can’t blame them. If I never see the dean again, it will be too soon.

I peer over heads, trying to see if my mystery guy is still there or if he got trampled by the crowd. My heart sinks when we reach the doors. He’s gone. He didn’t stay to find out my name or to continue our flirting in a more up close and personal way. Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe I was just kidding myself. There were a lot of people in the room. He could’ve been smiling at someone else. But I don’t believe that. I know he was looking at me, and that means that it could’ve just been a game to him—a way to pass the time during the boring lecture.

I follow Julia and the crowd to the cafeteria, worrying that college will turn out to be exactly like high school.

Chapter Two

I force his image from my mind as we enter the cafeteria, which turns out to be an enormous gray building that is easily the size of the street I live on. The ceiling is covered in flags of every country. Obviously the school wants to portray the image of uniting people around the world, though I doubt many students are really international. Timberland is a great school, but it’s not exactly Ivy League. People don’t come from overseas to go here.

Julia nudges me. “Hey, I have to go to the bathroom.”

“I’m going to get in line. I’m starving.”

“You’re not coming with me?” She looks at me like I’m leaving her to walk into a den of hungry lions.

“We’ll be in college soon. You really need to learn to use the bathroom on your own.” I playfully pat her shoulder. “Like a big girl.”

She laughs. “You’re so lucky I love you.”

“I know.” Julia doesn’t like anyone teasing her. I’m the only one who can get away with it.

“Save me a spot in line.”

“Sure.” I head straight for the main line, which is so long it’s wrapping around the room. I spy some sleepy looking college students at a table nearby. They definitely partied hard last night by the looks of their eyes. One guy is even wearing sunglasses. I can only imagine what
his
eyes look like. But at least it means there are parties around here. Timberland is sort of a suitcase college, so most of the students go home on the weekends. Only some stragglers are left behind—other than those of us here for orientation. I’m not sure which of the two camps I’ll fit into in the fall. I could easily drive the hour and a half home, but I’m not sure if I want to. I need to get away, be on my own and live a little.

I’m close enough to grab a tray at the end of the counter now, but I still don’t see Julia. The bathroom line must be just as bad.

“Freshman or transfer?” someone behind me asks.

I turn around and come face to face with
him
. “Excuse me?” I nearly choke on my tongue getting the words out. Maybe flirting with me wasn’t just a way for him to pass the time.

“Are you a freshman or a transfer student?” He smiles, and his eyes light up.

“Oh, um, freshman.” I almost hate admitting it since he now knows I’m still in high school.

He nods, as if he expected as much. “Where are you from?”

“Northern New Jersey.” No one ever knows where Vernon is, so there’s no point in naming my hometown.

His head cocks to the side. “I have family in Jersey. Are you from Bergen County?”

“No, Sussex. Farm country.” Great. Now he’ll think I’m some hillbilly.

“Ah, well, Pennsylvania isn’t much different than New Jersey.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed a lot of similarities already.” He must be a teacher. Why else would he be talking to me? Asking where I’m from? I fidget with my tray, avoiding his eyes. We’ve already run out of things to say to each other.
Way to be a conversationalist, Noelle.
Apparently, I’m better at flirting when there are no words involved. Oh crap, I flirted with a teacher!

“Have you decided on a major?”

“Not really.” This keeps getting better and better. Now I’m a hillbilly with no direction.

“Don’t sweat it. I was undecided my first year, too.”

So he’s not a teacher. Oh thank God! “When did you decide?” I ask, trying to get more clues about his age and whether or not there’s any hope for something happening between us.

“Just this summer. I figured I should declare a major if I’m going to be a resident advisor. I have to set a good example for the people in my dorm and all.”

“A resident advisor?” The line moves forward, and I catch the scent of his cologne. I breathe deeply, letting it fill my senses.

“Yeah, we monitor the dorms.”

I stop trying to smell him before he catches on. “Oh, so are you a senior then?”

He laughs. “I wish. No, I’m a sophomore. They usually don’t let sophomores be R.As, but I sort of know the dean.”

“You do? That boring guy who droned on and on for hours? Ouch.”

“He’s my dad.”

“Oh.” Shit. This goes beyond foot in mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

He raises his hand to stop me. “It’s cool. I keep telling him to cut his talks, but he won’t listen to me.” He gives me that sexy smile again.

“He’s really your dad?” I can’t believe someone that boring could create someone as personable as…I don’t even know his name.

“I don’t get preferential treatment if that’s what you’re thinking. The R.A. position is more like my dad giving me a swift kick in the ass. He says I need direction and to learn responsibility.” He holds his hands out to the sides. “So, here I am.”

It’s my turn in line, so I order red skin mashed potatoes, minus the gravy. I’m only a quarter Irish, but my love of potatoes runs deep. I thank the lady serving me and step out of line.              

“Just potatoes?” he asks, catching up and following me to find an empty table. “That’s hardly a balanced meal.”

I notice his tray is loaded with mashed potatoes, pot roast, and cooked carrots. “Oh, so you’re a cafeteria advisor now, too?” My attempt at flirting is pathetic. Why can’t I be good at this like Julia? Where is Julia? I scan the area by the bathrooms but don’t see her.

“I was going to say that no meal is complete until you have frozen yogurt and a mug of sprinkles.”

“What?” I can’t help laughing. “Did you say a
mug
of sprinkles?”

He smiles and raises one shoulder. “Sure. When you put sprinkles on your cone, they’re the first things to go. And after that, all you’re left with is plain yogurt. But…” He tugs my elbow, bringing me over to the frozen yogurt station. He sets his tray down and grabs a cone. Lining it up under the French vanilla dispenser, he makes an almost perfect swirl of yogurt. “Now, watch.” He grabs a coffee mug from the coffee station next to us and dunks it into the container of rainbow sprinkles, almost filling the mug. “There.”

“So, am I supposed to drink the sprinkles?”

“Oh, silly little freshman.” He winks and turns the cone upside-down in the coffee mug, covering it completely with sprinkles. “There, now try it.”

“Um, I haven’t eaten my mashed potatoes yet.”

“Eh, the food here sucks anyway. Best to go straight for dessert.” He holds the cone out to me. No way am I licking it while he’s still holding it. I mean, I’m terrible at flirting, but even I can see how that would look. I take the cone, and our fingers brush against each other. He motions for me to go ahead. I take a small lick.

He rolls his eyes. “Seriously, we’ll be here all day at this rate.” He takes the cone back and licks all around it, not caring that my tongue was just on the yogurt. Once all the sprinkles are gone, he turns the cone upside-down in the mug and pulls it out, covered once again in sprinkles. “Voila! Good as new.” He holds it out to me, as if I’m going to eat it after he just licked the whole thing. If I’m going to be swapping spit with him, that’s not how it’s going to happen.

“Nice trick. I’ll have to remember that one.”

He leans closer and raises his hand to my face. Is he going to kiss me? “You have a sprinkle.” He brushes his thumb across my bottom lip. “There. That’s better.”

I stare at him, unable to speak because my lip is numb from his touch. No, not numb. More like aching to kiss him.

He cocks his head and smiles, clearly knowing he’s gotten to me. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah.” I stumble on the word. “I should go find my friend and eat some real food.”

“Suit yourself, but I’ve got twenty bucks that says you’ll be making your own cone and mug of sprinkles when you’re finished with that.” He winks and walks away, licking his cone and forgetting all about his tray of food.

“Holy shit, Noelle.”

I turn around to see Julia grinning like a circus clown. “Where have you been?”

“Watching. That guy is seriously into you.”

I look down at the tray of food in her hands. “You were in line?”

“Yup. I sweet talked my way to about three people behind you.” She arches her brow.

“Let me guess, hot guy?”

“No. He was dreadful. Freckles and glasses.” Julia has freckles, too, but she covers them with makeup. I never understood why. I think freckles are cute, like the one just under my mystery guy’s right eye. “I needed to be able to hear what you and sexy college boy were saying, though,” Julia continues.

“I was holding a spot for you, remember? You could’ve joined us.” Though I’m glad she didn’t.

“And interrupt the flirting?” She shakes her head. “No way.”

My cheeks warm. “So you heard all of that?”

“Every word. R.A., son of the dean, wanted you to lick his ice cream cone.” She says the last part slowly, emphasizing each word.

“Shut up. He didn’t mean it like that.”
Did he?

“Sure he didn’t, and I didn’t give Mr. Freckles a fake number.”

“Let’s just find a seat, okay?” I don’t want her cheapening my encounter with…Man, I really need to find out what his name is.

She motions to a table near the door, and we sit down. I dig into my mashed potatoes and try to think about anything but him.

“When are you going to see him again?” Julia asks, knowing exactly what’s on my mind—or should I say
who
?

I shove another forkful of mashed potatoes into my mouth to avoid answering. The truth is I want to see him again. I want to know what his name is, if he’s a good kisser…

“Oh, so you’re going to ignore me now?”

Like that ever works with her. “There’s just nothing to talk about as far as he’s concerned.” Not yet anyway.

Julia gives me a look and I know she doesn’t believe me, but she lets it go and pushes her tray aside. “The food in this place sucks. How was the yogurt?”

The yogurt. I picture his face when he said he’d bet twenty dollars that I’d make myself a cone and a mug of sprinkles. He was so right. It’s all I can think about. Well, other than him.

“Good.”
Really good.