Chapter One:The Puddle Incident
1601 Words
The first thing I learned about Westbrook University was that everyone was in a hurry.
The second thing I learned was that nobody cared if you were standing directly in their path.
The third thing I learned was that the campus’s golden boy apparently believed sidewalks belonged to him.
I had been at Westbrook for exactly three days when Toby Hayes nearly ruined my morning.
It was 8:17 a.m., and I was already running late.
Not fashionably late.
Not “I overslept but somehow still look cute” late.
I was genuinely late.
My professor had made it painfully clear during orientation that anyone who walked into his lecture after eight-thirty would be locked out. And judging from the way he had stared at the student who asked whether that rule was serious, I had no intention of testing him.
I hurried across campus with my backpack hanging from one shoulder and two books pressed against my chest.
My hair was pulled into a messy puff because I hadn't had enough time to do anything else with it. My sneakers were already getting dirty from the damp pavement, and I was mentally calculating whether I could make it to the lecture hall in twelve minutes.
I probably could.
If people stopped walking like they had nowhere to be.
“Excuse me.”
No response.
“Sorry.”
Still nothing.
I squeezed between two students talking loudly about a party and kept going.
Westbrook was beautiful, I would give it that. Brick buildings surrounded the main quad, trees lined the walkways, and banners displaying the university’s navy-and-gold colors hung from almost every lamppost.
But apparently, beautiful campuses came with an unreasonable number of people.
I checked my phone.
8:21.
“Great.”
I sped up.
That was when I heard it.
The unmistakable sound of an engine approaching from behind.
I glanced over my shoulder.
A dark SUV was moving slowly along the campus road beside the sidewalk.
I rolled my eyes.
Of course.
The driver had plenty of room.
The road was practically empty.
So why did I have a bad feeling?
I turned forward and continued walking.
Then the SUV hit a puddle.
A very large puddle.
A very, very large puddle.
Water flew through the air.
And landed directly on me.
I stopped.
My entire body went still.
For one horrible second, I simply stared ahead.
My jeans were soaked.
My sneakers were splattered with muddy water.
My shirt had several dark stains across the front.
Even the books in my arms had caught a few drops.
Slowly, painfully slowly, I turned toward the SUV.
It had stopped several feet ahead.
The driver's door opened.
And he stepped out.
Toby Hayes.
I didn't know his name yet.
But I knew exactly who he was.
I'd already seen him around campus.
Everyone had.
He was one of those people who seemed to exist in a completely different universe from the rest of us.
Tall.
Athletic.
Dark, slightly messy hair.
A baseball jacket thrown casually over his shoulders.
The kind of face that made people forget what they were saying halfway through a sentence.
And, judging from the number of girls who had suddenly appeared near the sidewalk, apparently the kind of face that attracted an audience wherever he went.
He looked at me.
Then at the puddle.
Then back at me.
His mouth twitched.
Not with concern.
With amusement.
“You've got to be kidding me,” I muttered.
He walked toward me.
“Hey.”
I stared at him.
“Hey?”
He shrugged. “You okay?”
I looked down at my soaked clothes.
Then back at him.
“How do you think I am?”
He glanced at my shirt.
“Wet?”
My jaw dropped.
Was he serious?
“You drove through a puddle.”
“I noticed.”
“And you soaked me.”
“I noticed that too.”
“And you're smiling.”
His lips curved into a grin.
“I'm trying not to.”
“You're doing a terrible job.”
That made him laugh.
Actually laugh.
I wanted to throw one of my books at him.
Instead, I tightened my grip around them.
“You should apologize.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“For a puddle?”
“For driving through it like you were trying to baptize the entire sidewalk.”
He laughed again.
“Baptize?”
“Yes.”
“That's creative.”
“I'm glad you're entertained.”
“I am.”
I stared at him.
He stared back.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then his eyes dropped to the books in my arms.
“You're a freshman?”
“No.”
“Then you're lost.”
“I know exactly where I'm going.”
“Right.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Why do you keep saying things like you know me?”
“Because you look like you're about to murder me.”
“I am considering it.”
He smiled.
“Good to know.”
A group of students walking past suddenly called his name.
“Toby!”
He turned.
“Yo!”
I blinked.
Toby.
Of course.
Somehow, the name suited him.
A girl waved excitedly from across the quad.
“Practice at four?”
“Wouldn't miss it!”
He turned back to me.
“See you around.”
I stared at him.
“Hopefully not.”
His grin widened.
“Definitely see you around.”
Then he walked away.
Just like that.
I stood there, soaked, irritated, and wondering how someone could be that annoying in under five minutes.
I looked at my phone.
8:26.
“Oh, no.”
I sprinted.
---
I made it to class with three minutes to spare.
Barely.
The lecture hall was already packed when I slipped through the doors.
My professor looked at me over his glasses.
I froze.
He looked at the clock.
Then at me.
“Miss?”
“Hayes.”
He paused.
“Ms. Hayes.”
“Yes.”
“Are you aware that you are covered in mud?”
I glanced down.
“Unfortunately.”
A few students laughed.
I ignored them and hurried toward an empty seat near the middle.
I dropped my bag onto the floor and tried to catch my breath.
Then someone leaned toward me.
“You look like you lost a fight.”
I turned.
A girl with long braids and a bright smile was staring at me.
“I did.”
Her eyebrows rose.
“With who?”
I sighed.
“Toby Hayes.”
Her mouth fell open.
“You're kidding.”
“No.”
“You got into a fight with Toby Hayes?”
“Not exactly.”
“What happened?”
“He drove through a puddle.”
She stared at me for two seconds.
Then burst out laughing.
I frowned.
“It isn't funny.”
“It is a little funny.”
“I was soaked.”
“And you yelled at him?”
“Yes.”
Her smile grew.
“You yelled at Toby?”
“Why is everyone acting like he's the president?”
“Because around here, he practically is.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Who is he?”
She looked genuinely shocked.
“You don't know?”
“No.”
“Toby Hayes. Baseball team captain. His dad is a former professional player. He's basically campus royalty.”
“That explains the ego.”
She laughed.
“I'm Maya.”
“Zikora.”
“Nice to meet you, Zikora.”
“Nice to meet you too.”
The professor began speaking, and I finally pulled out my notebook.
I tried to concentrate.
I really did.
But for some reason, I kept thinking about Toby's stupid grin.
I shook my head.
Absolutely not.
I wasn't going to let some arrogant baseball player ruin my first week at university.
I had goals.
Grades.
A degree.
A future.
Romance wasn't even on the list.
And Toby Hayes?
He definitely wasn't going on it.
---
By lunch, I had almost forgotten about him.
Almost.
Maya and I were walking toward the student center when she suddenly stopped.
“Oh.”
I followed her gaze.
There he was.
Toby.
Surrounded by teammates near the fountain.
He was laughing at something one of them had said.
Then he looked up.
His eyes found mine.
His grin appeared immediately.
He nudged one of his teammates and said something.
The guy looked at me.
Then back at Toby.
They both laughed.
My eyes narrowed.
“What did he say?”
Maya smiled.
“I have no idea.”
Toby raised his hand and waved.
I stared at him.
Then, with the smallest amount of dignity I could gather, I turned around and kept walking.
Maya followed.
“You're going to have fun here.”
“I doubt it.”
“You're already fighting with the most popular guy on campus.”
“I'm not fighting with him.”
“You will.”
I looked at her.
“Why?”
She shrugged.
“Because Toby Hayes likes a challenge.”
I scoffed.
“Well, he picked the wrong girl.”
Behind us, I heard a familiar voice.
“Did I?”
I stopped walking.
Slowly, I turned around.
Toby stood several feet away, baseball tucked under one arm, that infuriating grin on his face.
His eyes were fixed on me.
“Because I think,” he continued, “you might be exactly the right one.”
And just like that, my peaceful university life officially ended.
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