A Deal With The College Playboy

11. The Morning After

ELLIE

When I woke up the next morning, I had a plan for the day, and it was to look cute as hell and hope that Beck Ryder would notice. And before you judge me, yes, I know it's crazy to already start thinking about how to impress him. For all I knew, the kiss probably meant nothing to him. But it meant so much to me, and I just couldn't stop smiling at the memory.

So yeah, maybe it was a little bit selfish thinking that made me want to dress up all cute and sexy so I would catch his eye, and hopefully earn another make-out session today. I didn't care where or how, but I just wanted him to kiss me, and I was willing to take anything at this point.

So, instead of my usual routine where I just throw on whatever didn't smell like armpit and hope no one noticed, I actually put effort in. I stood in front of the mirror holding two different tops deciding which one would look more flattering for my figure. Being a skinny girl with double-d boobs meant I needed to plan every outfit around my bust. Usually I just wore baggy shirts to cover up everything, but I wanted to feel sexy. I wanted to feel like a minx. So I needed to choose something that would accentuate my cleavage a little bit.

My choices were the black fitted tee or white crop top? The black had a round neck, while the white had a v-neck that showed just the right amount of cleavage. Naturally, the white crop top won. I paired it with a pair of ripped jeans, some sneakers, and a little bit of mascara I found at the bottom of my drawer. I even brushed my hair, which was such a big deal to me because I normally looked like I'd been dragged out of a bush.

I checked my reflection once again, and reminded myself that I was definitely not a slut. And after spraying on a bit of perfume, I hurried out of the house without waking Aunt Carol.

By the time I got to campus, my stomach was doing that annoying flippy thing like I'd downed six Red Bulls. I scanned the crowd on my way to class, pretending I wasn't hunting for him like a bloodhound on steroids. Maybe if I had his phone number, I would be able to just call him and ask to meet up somewhere. I needed to remember to do that, before getting lost in his eyes again.

And then, suddenly he was right there in front of me. And like always, my brain forgot how to function properly.

He was walking down the hallway with a backpack slung over one shoulder and a backwards baseball cap, looking like every girl's daydream and my own personal reason for having trust issues. I grinned like a lunatic as we slowly made our way towards each other, ready for the slow-motion movie moment where he'd see me and immediately remember the kiss, and he would swoon appropriately before scooping me up in his arms and kissing me again.

Except... he didn't.

Instead, he just glanced my way, and then he stormed off without a single word. No 'hey', no smirk, and not even a grunt. He just walked past me like I wasn't even there, and I was absolutely sure that he'd seen me.

What

The

Actual

Fuck?

I just stood there frozen in place like someone had unplugged my brain, and I stared at the back of his head as he kept on walking without even looking back at me. He seemed so unbothered by my presence that it genuinely wondered whether it was him, or maybe an evil twin brother I'd never heard of.

I replayed the entire scene over and over again in my head, searching for any kind of explanation. Did I imagine last night? Was I that delusional? Or maybe he kissed me and then realized I was cheap, pathetic and worthless.

My chest tightened all of a sudden as the realization hit me. Of course that's what he thought. What sort of girl agreed to kiss a guy after barely spending any time with him? He probably thought that I was easy to get, and that I would melt for him at the snap of a finger.

Anger suddenly bubbled up inside me, and it was sharp and hot. How dare he make that assumption about me? Screw him. Screw his perfect lips and his stupid v-taper and the way he'd made me feel like I was the only person in the world for five damn minutes.

If this was how he wanted to act, like a f*****g loser who was still stuck in high school, then so be it.

I stomped into class like a storm cloud and sat down, and I proceeded to marinate in my saltiness for the next hour without even paying attention to anything. The professor could've been teaching us how to rob banks legally and I still wouldn't have noticed. All I was thinking about was how I was going to kick Beck in the nuts next time I saw him.

"Sorry, what page is he on?" someone behind me said, and I turned around because I'd never heard that voice before. My mouth nearly fell open as I stared at the beautiful girl sitting behind me, with dark curls spilling down her back, and her deeply tanned skin that was glowing under the shitty fluorescent lights. Her eyelashes were long and thick, and she looked like a younger version of Penelope Cruz.

She raised an eyebrow confusedly at me, and I slowly remembered that I was supposed to answer her question.

"Oh, sorry," I said quietly. "I'm not really paying attention."

"Me neither," she whispered. "I just want to have the page open so I look like I know what I'm doing."

We both laughed at that, causing Mr Kramer to glare pointedly in our direction.

"Hi, I'm Solimar," she said, holding out her hand. "I'm the exchange student from Puerto Rico."

I shook her hand softly and said, "I'm Ellie. Nice to meet you."

She smiled at me, and it was so genuine that I almost forgot how to breathe as she said, "Are classes always this boring?"

"No, it's just Kramer," I replied. "The man is so boring, and he doesn't know how to teach anything."

"Maybe he could teach us how to watch paint dry," Solimar whispered, and we both giggled which earned us another deathly glare before we pretended to be serious once again. Still, we ended up whispering through most of class, and by some miracle, it wasn't painful. She didn't seem to know anything about Salma, or about me being campus roadkill. Which was probably the only reason she even bothered talking to me. But still, it was nice to have someone to talk to instead of always being by myself.

After the class (which lasted five minutes longer because Mr Kramer felt the need to talk about unserious students who were definitely going to fail his class), I was just packing up when my copy of Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban fell out of my bag. I carried it wherever I went, mostly so I had something to read when I was bored. But as soon as Solimar saw it, she squeaked in joy.

"You're a Potterhead?" she asked, picking up the book.

"Pureblooded Potterhead," I replied proudly. "You're looking at someone who's reread Harry Potter so many times that I've started cramming what happens on what page."

Her face lit up as she said, "You're kidding, me too. I love those books. But Chamber of Secrets is my favourite."

"How can you say that?" I gasped. "Deathly Hallows was the best."

"Now I know you have no taste," she said, rolling her eyes. For the next twenty minutes, we ended up arguing over which book was the best, and then which movie was the best. True to her word, Solimar was a Potterhead, and I couldn't stop smiling the entire time. I couldn't remember the last time someone cared what I had to say. It felt weird, but in a good way. And as desperate as it sounds, I was already wondering if we were going to become best friends.

As we left the building together, Solimar said she had to head to the admin building to meet with the dean for something about her admission. I waved her off after exchanging phone numbers, promising to text her later when I didn't have a class.

And that's when I saw him.

Beck was heading toward the stadium with his AirPods in, and his joggers hanging low on his hips. I hadn't thought about him all morning thanks to Solimar, but now he was back on my mind again.

My body reacted instantly with heat rising in my stomach, my palms sweaty and my heart racing. But then I remembered him storming off earlier, and all that longing immediately turned into pure rage. I wanted to just walk away, but then I imagined him high-fiving Tyler later and telling him how I'd thrown myself at him, and I couldn't let that slide.

"Oh, hell no," I muttered, marching after him.

By the time I reached the track, he was already running laps with his stupid broad shoulders and stupidly perfect arms. And before I could stop myself, I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled, "Hey, asshole!"

A couple of people turned to look, but Beck didn't stop. He merely glanced sideways at me, then he kept on running.

"Don't you dare ignore me, you piece of s**t!" I shouted again, stomping toward the track. "You think you can kiss me like that and then act like I'm invisible? What the actual f**k is wrong with you?"

He slowed down as I reached him, jogging to a stop with sweat dripping down his temples. He tilted his head to side slowly, and said, "Ellie..."

"Shut the f**k up!" I cut him off, my anger spilling out in every direction. "You don't get to play hot and cold with me like I'm some toy you can pick up whenever you're bored. I'm not cheap, Beck. I'm not worthless. So if that's what you think, then you can go f**k yourself!"

I was already shaking, with my fists balled and my chest heaving. But then suddenly, without warning, Beck grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me towards him. One second I was yelling at him, and the next his hand was on my waist pulling me close, and his mouth was on mine.

It was like a bomb went off inside me. Every ounce of anger evaporated immediately, turning into something else that was much hotter and much hungrier. My hands fisted in his shirt as I kissed him back, desperately and messily like I'd been starving and he was the only thing that could fill me.

He groaned against my lips, and I swear my knees almost buckled. My body pressed against his, not caring at all that we were standing on a f*****g running track with people probably staring.

When he finally pulled back, both of us were gasping as he leaned his forehead against mine. His eyes looked so sexy as he smiled at me, and then he said the last thing I expected him to say:

"I want to have s*x with you."