Stupid Girl(16)

Talk to you later. Which meant he planned on talking to me. Later. As I walked along the paved path that led to the observatory’s wide front entrance steps, I considered my weird, extraordinary day. From the moment Braxton Jenkins knocked into me, nothing else afterward made a bit of sense. Why me? What could a baseball playing, fraternity brother, tattooed Southie sophomore who got into frequent fights and could keep company with any number of gorgeous leggy college girls, want anything to do with me? A plain, no make-up wearing, star-searching scarred-up in more ways than one cowgirl Geek?

Oh yeah. He thought I was a virgin.

Guys were douchebags.

As I rounded the walkway and climbed the steps, I pushed through the side-by-side front glass doors, and left behind the sweet, humid August air. With an inner determination and vigor, I set aside the silly giddiness Brax Jenkins had managed to stir inside me, and in a very short time. I was pretty sure I hated that. And I probably wouldn’t have to worry about it, either. Once the virginity ring novelty wore off, I’d drop right off of Brax’s radar. Which was fine with me.

The cool, air-conditioned interior of the observatory’s main entrance swept over me as I entered the foyer and walked up to the help desk, situated in the center. I looked up to the domed building’s painted tiled ceiling. It was beyond spectacular, and speckles of light filtered in and glittered against the walls like so many chipped diamonds. After glancing around, I noticed a, well, really cute guy, early twenties if I had to guess, seated behind the horseshoe desk. He wore a long sleeved white shirt, buttoned up the front, sleeves rolled over his tanned forearms. Plastic boxes sat before him, filled with free flyers and maps of the building. A donations jar also sat, half full. I walked to the desk, and the guy looked up. “Hi, I’m Olivia Beaumont. I’m here to meet with Professor Callander about a job?”

The guy rose from where he was sitting and smiled, and it was warm and easy. I was surprised at how comfortable it made me. He stuck out his hand, and I shook it. “I’m Noah Hicks. Professor Callander’s TA. He’s asked me to show you around, if that’s okay?”

I returned the smile. “Sure, that’d be great.”

“Let me get someone to watch the desk.” He picked up the phone and made a call, and I stepped back and waited.

With Brax and his interruption of my first day pushed to the back of my brain, the thrill of being in Winston’s fabulously large observatory washed over me. I’d worked so hard to get here, and finally, amazingly, I was.

Soon, a young guy around my age hurried toward us. He was tall, bone-thin, and glasses sat on his flawless pale face. He grinned at me through shaggy, reddish brown hair that flipped over his ears and stuck out his hand. “I’m Steven,” he said, and his toothy smile was wide and unembarrassed. “Guess you’re the other honors grad scholarship financial aid job recipient?”

I shook his hand. “Wow, now that’s a mouthful. But yeah, I’m Olivia. Beaumont.”

“Anytime you need to switch a shift, just let me know,” Steven said. He moved to take Noah’s position behind the desk. “But we’ll be working a lot together, too.”

“Okay, great. You do the same,” I offered.

“Ready?” Noah asked.

“Sure.”

Noah Hicks led me through the observatory, winding our way from the first floor, where three large auditoriums held multiple exhibits, all the way to the top observation platform outside and the dome that contained the Mulligan scope. Round, almost like the top of a lighthouse, it had a double railing around the steep drop off, and the public was allowed in on Wednesdays and Saturdays. The Mulligan was … epic. I could barely wait to get a nighttime look.

Along the rest of the tour, he told me more about my duties, responsibilities, and participation in arranging the planetarium exhibits. All very exciting to me.

Then, Noah went over his position with Professor Callander. Noah had an impressive resume and sounded like a brilliant astronomer. Tall and clean cut, he had close-clipped brown hair, strong features and soft brown eyes that reminded me of suede. Noah looked like an athlete and carried himself with confidence and answered all my questions. I was glad to be working with him. Very non-threatening—a characteristic I seemed to inadvertently siphon out with people now. After the tour, he accompanied me to his office, and we went over my work schedule Professor Callander had coordinated for me. They all matched perfectly with my classes.

“So have you always been into astronomy?” Noah asked.

I smiled at him. “My whole life.”

He nodded, and returned the warm smile. “It shows in your eyes. See you in class, Olivia.”