I CAN'T FOCUS
Adam’s POV
The moment Cassy smiled at me, it was like something shifted. Her eyes were the softest hazel I’d ever seen, flecked with tiny bits of gold that caught the light, and her laugh? It sounded like something you’d hear in a dream. "I know."
We started walking, me still rambling apologies for knocking her down. "I swear I'm not generally this clumsy," I grumbled, carrying a few of her books as we crossed campus.
"It's fine," she smiled. "Honestly, I needed some excitement today."
I chuckled, shrugging my shoulders. "Well, mission accomplished."
We kept on talking — about nothing in particular, about school, about music. She was a good talker, and the kind of person that made silence feel relaxed.
I ended up bitching about my tutoring problem. "Yeah… my dad's been riding me to find me a tutor. Everybody's busy, or odd, or nuts. My last hope is fucking Emerson Beckett, and I swear I'd rather go to class buck naked for the whole semester."
She giggled. "Emerson Beckett? The drummer guy?"
"The same one."
She laughed. "Well, lucky for you. I'm an A+ student. Straight A's. If you need tutoring, I'd be happy to tutor you."
I swear my heart skipped a beat. Could it be? Had the universe deliverd this angel to me? “Wait— seriously? You'd do that?"
"Sure, why not? Stop by my dorm later, we'll go over what's giving you issues."
God bless the fucking universe. I felt like I was floating as I went back to the dorm. I could just burst into sing. I felt like I should go around hugging everyone and kissing them on the mouth, yelling at the top of my lungs!
After so long. Finally, a tutor!
Later That Evening
I showed up at her dorm like a man on his knees, pleading for rescue, notebook and pen in hand.
She opened the door looking more gorgeous than ever— hair loose, lips shiny, in a light blue tank top and soft shorts that fit her legs to perfection.
"Hey," she smiled, stepping aside to allow me in.
Her room had a scent of vanilla and something else sweet I couldn't quite put my finger on. We sat on the rug, books spread out, and she explained a few formulas I’d never cared about before — but suddenly found very interesting because her voice was so smooth.
It was going fine. That is, until she tugged off her top.
“I’m sorry — the heat is just terrible,” she said, tossing it aside, now sitting there in a ridiculously sexy white lace bra.
I forgot how to breathe.
Her skin was flawless, golden and unblemished, the lace biting into her full breasts. Her collarbone, the tiny hollow of her belly— God. She was something out of a damn magazine, for sure.
"Uhh, y-yeah, no problem," I fought to get out, eyes fixed on the textbook but seeing not one word.
She went on explaining, something about equations, but all I could focus on was the rise and fall of her breasts, the little silver chain between them.
"So, if you multiply both sides by— Adam? Adam, are you even listening?"
"Uh-huh," I lied, then proceeded to fail the next question she asked.
We went on like that for another hour. Me, pretending to get it. Her, sighing, starting over.
Finally, she laughed and closed the book.
"Maybe we should raincheck on this. Not everybody gets it the first sixty times," she teased.
I massaged my neck, embarrassed. "Sorry, I'm a piece of work."
"It's fine," she smiled, leaning back on her hands. "We can try again."
I smiled too. Yes, please.
---
Emerson's POV
The hospital room smelled of antiseptic and lemon air freshener. I hunched in one of those uncomfortable waiting room plastic chairs, my phone having died a few minutes ago, pumping my leg up and down as if that would hurry along the time.
When the doctor finally arrived, I sprang to my feet. "Is she okay?" I asked brusquely.
The doctor smiled calmly. "Don't worry, sir. She's stable now. You made it in time."
A wave of relief hit me so hard I sat back against the wall. "Thank God."
"She's awake too, if you'd like to see her."
I nodded quickly. "Yeah— yeah, please."
When I got into the room, Petra was sitting up, cannula still in her nose, pale but sporting a weak smile. "Hey, rockstar," she whispered.
I laughed, sitting down in the chair beside her. "Terrified the crap out of me, you know that?"
"Sorry," she shrugged. "Asthma's a bitch sometimes."
I laughed, leaning in. "So. . . can I keep the stuffed bat I found in your bag or what? You know, saved your life and all."
She laughed, and even though her voice was thin, it still had the same crazy spark. "Sorry, you have to save my firstborn for that."
I laughed and helped her sit up against her pillows. We exchanged numbers before I walked away, and it felt good.
I wasn't searching for anything but she'd found me anyway. She was the sort of the bounce I was looking for. Being beside her felt like I was a seedling feeling the sun for the first time. Someone compatible with my mess. Strange, wild, u
nreliable, invigorating.
Petra and I would be trouble together, and I was looking forward to it.