True Intention

Ch 2- Is it better, though?

Naomi POV

The nice thing about college schedules, is that you don't have a solid eight hours of classes every day. You just have way more work to do in all of them in what remains of your day. I'd managed to get through Art History just fine, though I'd gotten curious looks from pretty much everyone in there. Generally, once you hit your specializations, everyone has had at least a few classes together. I ignored them, tossing my now long hair back into a messy bun with my HB pencil shoved through it. I had this class three times a week for two hours... Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday, and Foundations of Art Education the same days, for another two hours. Monday through Friday I had my elective class, Illustration, for an hour.

Thankfully, with Art History 9:30 am to 11:30 am and Foundations from 2:30 pm to 4:30 pm, I had plenty of time to eat lunch and study in between. I beelined for the school dining hall, ignoring the eyes on me. I wasn't here to make friends. Not yet. Hell, I'd never even had a friend since we left Brooklyn. My parents, well... after the one incident, they had not pushed me to do anything I didn't want to. I'd gone to therapy, all that s**t, but there just had not been anyone I felt safe connecting with. I watched the other "freaks" betray each other left and right.

Pointless. I knew how to work with people and be surface friendly, but none of them were gonna get deeper.

After getting my pasta and salad bar selections, and a lime seltzer water, I sat down in a slightly hidden corner, slouching down in a scooped, high-backed chair that you could slouch down and hide out in. I set my food on the small round table next to me, and pulled out my sketchbook. I didn't have Foundations until 2:30 pm, but there was never a bad time to draw. I got lost in the rather dark scene I was detailing, a young woman being stalked by a wolf in the woods. Nobody said I was full of light and cheer, did they?

Nope.

Weirdly, a shadow appeared, interfering with my light source. Frowning, I spoke without looking up.

"Do you mind maybe taking your shadow somewhere else, please?" I grumbled, totally annoyed at the disrespect.

Of course, it was possible the shadow-bearer had no idea they were interfering with my light, but for some reason that almost made it worse, because that meant whatever they wanted was not art-related, and again, I don't feel much like dealing with anyone. I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Carla was anywhere within the vicinity.

"Guess I'll not offer a compliment on your work then." An equally grumpy, deep and almost growly voice replied. Dude sounded like he smoked a pack of cigarettes a day or something. Despite his words, the shadow-bearer did not move, forcing me to look at him. Holy s**t. I may not be interested. In anyone. But this guy was stupidly hot. Longish blonde hair in an undercut. Some of the nicest green hazel eyes I've ever seen, seriously. Had this whole Techwear thing going that totally worked for him. Didn't hide his lean, muscular frame at all.

Thankfully, I'm a pro at masking reactions, and I just stared at him over my glasses, raising a brow.

"Is there something else you needed?" I asked. The words were polite but my expression and tone said to f**k right off. I don't care about fake platitudes. In my experience, so far, compliments from boys my age were either disingenuous or geared at getting in someone's pants. I was in no rush to experience anything to do with boys, or their bodies. I wasn't sure I ever would be. This guy, whoever he was, was probably the first to even spark a tiny bit of interest.

Even that was making me uncomfortable, because I knew boys and the emotions they inspired were dangerous.

Majorly distracting, to say the least.

"You're an art major, right?" He questioned, lifting his pierced eyebrow and playing with his vertical labret using his tongue, which drew my eye like those watches hypnotists use. I resisted the urge to play with my own snake bite piercings, not wanting them to be noticed. His eyes flicked over my face, and somehow I just knew he'd seen every one of my piercings that was possibly visible. s**t. Sighing, I nodded and moved my eyes back to my sketchpad, hoping he'd get the hint. He didn't. "I'm Soren. Soren Hayes. I'm a third year art major too. Saw you in Art History. You transfer or something?"

Ugh, didn't he know that curiosity killed the cat?

I didn't need anyone to know me, least of all a guy that looked like he stepped out of a f*****g photo shoot.

Guys like this got the girls they paid attention to all kinds of the wrong attention.

I'm a realist and people are crazy when they get jealous. Incredibly and painfully creative. Vindictive. Often times towards people that did nothing but exist. I didn't want any part fo that bullshit.

I nodded again. Technically, it's the truth, because I transferred not only my AA, but all my AP and college-credit high school classes here to Eastern. He seemed to be waiting for more information, but that was as far as he was getting. I was not sure if he'd seen my tongue ring, but I knew one thing, it was far from a deterrent. My least favorite line? I'd like to see what you can do with that tongue ring. Disgusting. Thankfully, my tattoos, all three I'd already gotten, were covered with my super awesome disguise. He shifted from foot to foot, crossing his arms.

"Not gonna, you know, use the manners I'm sure your parents taught you and give me your name too?" He queried. Dammit. My parents were artsy, but yeah, courtesy mattered. They were both old money from New York, and would be appalled at my behavior. I sighed.

"Naomi, Naomi Ward. Charmed I'm sure. Now can I go back to my sketch, onegaishimasu?" I said with as much fake sweetness as I could muster, not bothering to look up, hoping he'd finally catch the vibes I was giving off.

"I see." He said pensively, as if he'd suddenly realized something of great importance. I closed my eyes. I really hoped Art History was the only class we shared, because this guy in less than ten minutes was already on my last nerve. I hoped he wasn't one of those guys that can't take a hint, or worse, no for an answer. I would literally kick his ass. Especially if he even remotely tried to lay a hand on me.

At all.

"See what, Mr. Hayes?" I said it formally, but rolled my eyes. He grinned. Not fair, he also has f*****g perfect teeth.

Why did the heavens have to send me a tormentor that looked beyond delicious? Not fair!

I can't believe I'm even thinking that! Argh!

"That tongue ring, is what. The question is, why are you hiding it? I do love me a puzzle. See you later, Naomi. Love the dark art there." He said in an infuriatingly upbeat tone before walking away.

I slid further into my chair, but put aside my art, the mood gone.

I ate in a rather desultory fashion, my appetite gone as well.

Well, I was not lucky enough to not have other classes with the sexy creeper. He was in them all. Which meant, our major and field of study was probably the same. It was highly likely the fucker was going to be in all of my classes going forward, unless by some miracle we took different electives. Somehow, he managed to snag a seat next to me. And stared. Didn't he need these classes too?

I tried not to let it affect me, but I could feel my cheeks heating the longer his eyes lingered on me.

Why did I feel like he could see right through my disguise?

A new issue arose from his attention, though, and I just cursed my luck entirely. Here I was, trying to fly under the radar and graduate early, nobody the wiser. Day one, and this guy just had to bring his attention to me. Therefore, every girl in class was glaring at me. I sank down in my seat. Soren raised a brow, scanned the room quickly, and his lips quirked into a ridiculously sexy half smile. Ignoring him and all my new haters, I tried to focus on the project our teacher was giving us. Class time was basically going to be a lab for us to finish the assignment by Friday. We had to illustrate a scene from a fairy tale, and the best would be voted on, gaining you some extra credit. Not extra college credits, obviously, extra class credits if you just had a terrible illustration later.

Sometimes, inspiration just failed you, after all.

As soon as class ended, I quickly packed my s**t and yeeted right out of there. I heard Soren call my name as every girl in the class glared at me leaving. s**t. I flipped my hood up and practically ran across the campus to the house that functioned as the special art student dorm. I hadn't seen any of my roommates yet, there were three in total. We each had a bedroom and en-suite to ourselves. There was an awesome sun room that I was hoping to use for sketching and maybe morning coffee. It was one of those quaint older craftsman-style homes complete with stained-glass and exposed wood beams all over.

I saw jackets hung on the dark wood bench complete with mirror and hooks by the door, but didn't pause to note more than that. It meant I wasn't alone in the house, at the least. Hopefully, my roommates weren't expecting me to be all friendly and s**t. I'm sure the school expected people to bond or whatever, but honestly, I really just wanted to get through it unscathed. I could find friends in the real world.

I mean, I didn't even know where I was going or what I was doing after graduation yet.

I ran up the stairs to my room and shut the door. I could try to continue my plan, or I could just lean into my true self. It was really hard to dress in such a boring way (once again, sorry if that insults your personal style, it's just totally not me). If I wasn't going to teach art, I'd have gone into fashion. I guess I could, either way. Having a Bachelor of Arts isn't restrictive from a design standpoint. I changed into my favorite jammies, black velour Juicy Couture shorty shorts and a cropped black and gray tie-dyed cami. I'm not big into labels, but these had simply been the most comfortable shorts I'd ever been gifted. I slid on black velvet slippers with rhinestone skulls, and walked downstairs to grab a lime seltzer and a lunchable. I wasn't hungry enough to order anything, but I needed a snack.

As I was bent down to grab said snack from the bottom shelf, I heard someone clear their throat. Must be a roommate.

When I turned, I almost dropped my stuff. There in the doorway, giving me a very hungry once-over, was Soren. Guess it was actually a co-ed dorm. Guess I forgot to ask.

Whoops.