Boys Like Him

Marathon survivor

I was still processing Mariah's latest conspiracy theory about Lloyd's "obvious" crush when the heavy oak door of the library creaked open, letting in a faint draft that carried the distant scent of rain-soaked pavement from outside.

I felt him before I saw him. The hushed murmurs of studying students seemed to fade, the fluorescent lights overhead buzzing a little softer, as if the entire space had paused to take notice.

Lloyd stepped through the threshold, his broad shoulders filling the doorway for a moment before he scanned the rows of cluttered tables with those sharp, focused eyes. Then he spotted us, or me, and strode straight over, his sneakers scuffing lightly against the worn carpet.

Beads of sweat glistened at his temples, catching the light. His dark hair was tousled, strands falling messily over his forehead like he'd raked his hands through it one too many times. His chest rose and fell a little quicker than usual, breaths coming in shallow pulls, as if he'd jogged across campus to get here.

My stomach flipped.

Mariah noticed him, of course. Her grin spread, eyes gleaming with mischief as she leaned back in her chair.

"Well, well..." she drawled, voice laced with teasing delight.

I turned in my seat, heart hammering against my ribs.

His gaze locked onto mine, instantly pulling me in like gravity.

"Hey," he greeted, cutting through the library's silence without effort.

Mariah's foot connected sharply with my shin under the table, a not-so-subtle kick that made me jolt.

I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out, just a rush of heat and nerves tangling my tongue.

He stopped right at the edge of our table.

"I was looking for Mariah," he added, glancing her way briefly.

Mariah's eyebrows arched high, her lips twitching into a knowing smirk. She tilted her head, playing along with exaggerated innocence. "Oh? And what can I do for you, superstar?"

He shifted his weight, glancing down for a split second before meeting her eyes again. "The basketball game tomorrow night, I saved you both seats right behind the bench. And I wanted to officially invite you?"

Mariah's smirk deepened, her gaze darting to me in a flash of pure triumph, as she'd just been handed irrefutable proof on a silver platter. She leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand. "Seats, plural? How thoughtful. You really went out of your way for little old me, huh?"

Lloyd rubbed the back of his neck, a faint flush creeping up despite his casual shrug. "Yeah, well... figured you'd drag her along anyway." His eyes slid back to me. "But I wanted to make sure you'd have a good view."

The way he said it made the words feel like they were aimed straight at me, even though he'd addressed Mariah first.

Mariah let out a soft, theatrical sigh, shaking her head with mock sympathy. "Wow, Lloyd. Saving seats just for us? I'm flattered." She paused, her grin turning downright wicked as she shot me another sidelong glance. "We're coming, aren't we, Ny?" she declared.

I groaned, shooting her a half-hearted glare. "Mariah..."

Her foot found my shin again, harder this time.

I shot her a glare. " Of course."

Lloyd's eyes never left mine, not for a second. "Can't wait," he murmured.

Heat surged through me, flooding from my neck up to my cheeks, spreading hot across my chest until I felt like I might combust right there among the scattered notebooks and coffee-stained pages.

And then, as suddenly as he'd appeared, he turned and walked away, his footsteps fading toward the exit.

I slumped forward, forehead thumping gently against the cool wooden table.

Mariah waited until he was fully out of earshot before she exploded like a firework stuffed into a soda can.

"OH, MY GOD!" She slapped the table hard enough that my notebook jumped. "Did you SEE his face? Nyelle, that boy wanted to DEVOUR you. He was eye-f*****g you like you were the last slice of cake at a party!"

"Mariah!" I hissed, glancing around at the shushing students. "Keep your voice down!"

"No!" She leaned in so close that her braids brushed my arm. "You don't get to hide from this. He SPRINTED across campus, sweating, out of breath, looking like he'd run from a fire just to ask YOU to his game!"

I covered my face again, but it did nothing. The heat in my cheeks was definitely visible from space.

"No, no, no, don't hide. FACE ME."

Mariah yanked my hands away like my dignity wasn't hanging by a hair. "I want you to replay the last thirty seconds because that boy was practically vibrating," She reached over and patted my head with exaggerated sympathy. "Oh, he definitely likes you back."

"He asked you too," I muttered weakly.

She snorted. "Baby, he used me as a middleman because if he'd looked at you directly, you would've combusted on the spot. And don't think I missed how he leaned in.

'Can't wait.'" She mimicked his low voice perfectly, then fanned herself. "The tension was THICK."

My entire body sagged.

"You're not helping."

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm not trying to help. I'm trying to INFORM you."

My face burned so hot I thought steam might start rising. I buried my face in my hands. "Stop."

She leaned in dramatically, clutching my wrist. "Do you understand what just happened? Lloyd, the campus golden boy, the guy every girl in this school has written Mrs. Lloyd Whatshislastname in their notebook, ran halfway across campus looking like a marathon survivor...because he wanted you at his game."

"That doesn't mean anything," I mumbled.

"Yes, it does!" she snapped. "Men don't chase like that for fun. He didn't even notice when Melinda with the waist and the lashes walked past. He was locked on you like a laser-guided missile."

I wanted the floor to swallow me whole.

"You're exaggerating."

"Am I?" She ticked off on her fingers. "One, he ran across campus for you. Two, he saved you a seat like you're his personal VIP. Three, the way he said 'can't wait'?" She shivered dramatically. "That wasn't casual, babe. That was 'I'm counting the hours until I see you again.'"

My stomach flipped hard. Butterflies weren't just fluttering, they were doing somersaults.

"And you said yes!" she crowed. "Finally!"

"I only said yes to shut you both up," I grumbled.

"Lies." She grinned wider. "You're going because you want to see him play. Admit it."

I looked away, cheeks on fire. The truth was clawing its way up my throat. I did want to see him again. The way he moved on the court yesterday stuck with me.

"Fine," I whispered.

Mariah sat back, arms folded, satisfied with herself. "So. You're coming to the game."

"I already said yes," I muttered, defeated.

I sank lower in my chair, wishing the library floor would swallow me.

Mariah pumped her fist. "YES! Now, outfit planning starts tonight. We're making you look like a snack he can't resist."

I groaned into my arms. "I hate you."

"You love me." She patted my head. "And you're doomed, babe. Completely, wonderfully doomed."

I pressed my forehead to the table, my insides a mess of nerves and excitement.

She was right.

I was doomed.

I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to slow the galloping inside me. "Mariah... he's... he's just... I don't even know him."

Mariah's smirk faded.

She reached across and squeezed my hand. " Stop running. Life's going to hand you a few good things, Nyelle. Not everything is dangerous."

"But if the feelings get too strong? You still have my vibrator recommendation."

"Mariah!" I groaned loudly, hiding my face behind my laptop.

She cackled so loud that people turned.

I shoved her shoulder, she shoved me back, and somehow I was laughing, even though my insides were jelly.

I pressed my forehead to the table, my stomach twisting with nerves and excitement.