“I found something out about that Noah hunk you nearly had sex with,” Chris said after a huge bite of lo mein.
“I did not almost have sex with him,” I said, blushing. The memory of his intense blue eyes running up and down my body as I struggled to cover myself came flooding back. Even though it had already been a few days since my wardrobe malfunction, I couldn’t get him off my mind. I had done some light Facebook stalking, but nothing too serious.
“Whatever, close enough. Guess what his dad does?”
I shrugged. “Ex-football player turned coach. Balding, weights forty pounds too much, loves Bud Light.”
Chris laughed. “Weirdly specific, but nope. He’s a movie producer.”
I quirked an eyebrow, surprised. “That’s pretty cool.”
“Yeah, and you know what’s even cooler?”
“What?” I could already tell where Chris was going with everything, but it was better to let her get there than interrupt. That would only provoke her more.
“He’s the guy that paid for your precious new theater.”
I was pretty taken aback at that. The guy who I kept fantasizing about, who had undressed me with his eyes, was the son of a guy in the movie business. It was a weird coincidence, or at least it felt like one.
“I don’t believe you,” I said, hoping she’d go into more detail.
“It’s true. Selena was in the dorms with him, apparently. His dad is loaded, like ultra loaded. He produced those superhero movies, the really popular ones.” Chris shrugged. She wasn’t the best with pop culture, although I knew exactly what she was talking about.
“Why were you talking to Selena about this?” I asked. Selena was one of Chris’s friends from bio class last semester. I had met her a few times, and she was nice enough, but a huge ditz.
“I saw a picture of him on her Facebook, and since you’ve been stalking him down so hard, I figured I’d help you out.”
“I haven’t been stalking him!”
“Yeah, okay.” She gave me a wink and laughed. I wanted to smack the noodles from her mouth, but I knew she was right.
I sighed. “What else did she say?”
“Not much. He’s a huge player and stuff. She didn’t really know him that well.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
Chris grinned. “Why, because he’s so hot everyone must swoon over him?”
“No, I mean, just the way he talked.”
“I get it. You’re hot for this guy. Practically dripping.”
Wow. Chris could be pretty graphic sometimes. I thought it had something to do with her physical science background. Instead of acknowledging her clearly untrue statement, I threw a strand of noodles in her direction.
Chris was usually pretty perceptive, especially when it came to my love life. For whatever reason, she was the Rain Man of my sexual desire, and she always knew when I was into someone, no matter what I did. Even if I hid it from her, she eventually sniffed it out. Noah was no exception.
Even though he had been a total asshole, I still couldn’t get him off of my mind. The news that his father was a big movie producer only made him that much more alluring to me. It wasn’t the money, but the fact that he had a connection to something I loved that interested me. I imagined what his life must have been like growing up in the film industry. My mother would have killed for something like that considering she had made her professional academic career analyzing movies.
I kept thinking back to his perfectly fitted faded jeans and designer shirt, distressed perfectly to appear vintage, and I realized he looked like the consummate rich guy. But there was something in his look, behind his cocky, self-assured grin, that I couldn’t understand. Not to mention he walked into the theater showing Pierre Le Fou, which was a French movie by a famous filmmaker named Jean-Luc Godard. My mother adored Godard, and I was surprised Noah was interested in watching his stuff. I never got into it, but I would have given it another chance if it meant sitting next to Noah in the dark for an hour or two. Chris and I ended up seeing an old Clint Eastwood western, which spared me from having to bump into Noah again. I couldn’t decide if that was fortunate or not.
I huffed as Chris and I stood up and went back inside, trying to forget the thoughts that kept swirling through my mind. Noah Carterson, asshole, playboy, and rich kid, was lodged firmly in my skull, and I couldn’t shake him loose.
I loved the first day of class. The previous week was full of freshmen moving into their dorms, upperclassmen lounging around in the shade, and everything generally gearing up for the coming semester. When classes were out, campus was a ghost town; even the lunch trucks closed up since the majority of their customers were either at home or just not coming around. But things slowly got more frantic and exciting until it all peaked on the first day.