Chapter 1

SIX YEARS LATER

A 20-hour drive from home, a 5-hour shift at the bar, and 3-hours of sleep, yet, I had to catch up with my 8am class.

“There was an mail for you. It says it’s important.” Raina, my dorm roommate, announced. 

My gaze traveled to the mail on the table and these words were written on the envelope in huge, bold fonts: “EXTREMELY IMPORTANT, FROM YOUR UNIVERSITY.” Ripping it open, my eyes scanned through its content: 

‘Dear Lyric, 

This is from the Financial Aid Department. 

The semester is approaching an end, and your grades have been falling drastically. It has been brought to attention that your records show that you have been missing a lot of class lately. 

This is a second warning,and you understand that based on your scholarships’ coontracts, if you have a third warning from us, you are at a risk of losing your full-coverage scholarship.

Also, please remember that you have to maintain a 3.5 GPA to continue enjoying the benefits of your scholarship for the continuing semesters. 

If you believe there is any error in the message, please be sure to inform us. 

We hope you have a great rest of your semester, and as always, we wish you the best.

SIncerely,

Financial Aid T…’

I stopped reading, crumpled the paper and tossed it in the trash can. Throwing my bag over my shoulders, I stormed out of the room. It wasn’t my fault I had to work my butt off to maintain my family debts (not like they’d ever understand).

An entire weekend had gone by of me  enduring hours of fights and misery from my Mom and brother. There was no way I could tell them my scholarship was on the line from overworking to feed them.

Glancing at my visibly-rotting silver  wrist watch, I realized it was 7:55am. My class was in Derma Hall which was about a fifteen-minute walk from here. “Shoot, this is why I need a bike.” I began running, holding onto the straps of my bag. Everyone around me cast a weird glance at me as I ran past them. Being a 24–year old freshman in the university, I was most likely older than everyone else, so it felt like these young, fresh out-of-high school turds were always judging me, and at the moment, I was drawing extra judgmental terms.

 I ought to feel embarrassed but I didn’t travel more than halfway across the country, halfway across my new home, studying in a city that only humans lived in, just to feel embarrassed by humans.

It took running on grass and ignoring my heartburn to finally get into the Derma Hall. It was 8:02am and my professor clocked the door after five minutes, so I opted from the stairs, running faster than I had in ten years.

At the third floor, I bumped into someone that had been running down and that made the books in the person’s hands fall to the ground.

Crouching to the ground, I began picking the books up really fast. 

“Whoa, calm down, tiger.” a male voice chuckled as he crouched in front of me. 

My gaze locked with a pair of bold blue eyes, a boyish smile creeping up his lips. He had dirt-blonde hair, disheveled in what looked like a  good mess. “Hey, beautiful. I’m Blade” His smile grew, making his eyes pop, enough to brighten a person’s day.. Instead, it irritated me. Younger me would have thought this was perfect, ‘Could he be the man for me’ moment, but Roger had rid my interest from anything that smelled like romance. 

Glancing at my wrist watch, I realized I had one minute left. 

“Shoot.” I jumped to my feet, accidentally pushing him to land butt-flat.

“Dang girl. You don’t have to be so shy. I don’t bite.”

“Shut up!” I spat in panic, my heart racing as I ran up the stairs faster than I could. 

The door was about to be shut when I shoved my feet and ran in, panting and sweating.. 

All eyes fell on me, but thankfully this was College, so everyone averted their gaze back to the board while I sprawled on my seat.

***

Classes were finally over, which meant I only had 30 minutes to catch the next bus, get changed into my uniform, grab granola bars for lunch and head to work. 

“Have you all heard about the new professor?” One of the girls behind me asked as I shoved my books into my bag. 

“Yes, the young and really sexy-looking professor, right?” another girl asked in a gasp. “Gosh, he is so damn hot. Everyone is talking about him. Did you get to see him yet?”

“No. Did you?”

“No! I would die and be in the ER if I saw that sexy thing in person! I have been gawking at his pictures and have even stalked his old accounts. That man was a supermodel fresh out of his mother’s oven.”She almost squealed. 

I rose up, putting the arm of my wooden chair back in place. 

“How about you? Did you get to see him yet?” One of them asked, and it almost seemed as if she was talking to me, or I was probably too sleep-deprived and hearing things. 

I lifted my head to them  and realized they were both looking at me, expecting an answer. No way. I looked back. “Me?” I lifted an eyebrow. 

“Yes.” She laughed. “Have you seen the hot professor in person?” 

“What professor?” I  quirked an eyebrow their way. 

“Are you even a student here? Every girl in the 50,000 student population is talking about him.”

“I don’t know him.” I said dismissively, hanging my bag’s strap over my shoulder.

“Wait. You work at the bar down the university street, that popular one.”

How the hell did they know me? I knew nobody except my roommate and I assumed no one knew me since I never spoke to any being..

“Yeah, that’s right.” the second girl added. “She works there. A lot of men talk about her.” What the heck?

“I guess you'll see the sexy professor tomorrow night.” She wiggled her brows, a smirk on her lips. “Rumors have it that he is going to be at the halloween costume party your bar is hosting.” The girl said, “I promise you’ll lose your breath when you see him.”

“He’s that hot. Someone might need to call an ambulance.” They laughed.

“Girls, I don't care about such silly chat and… hot professor.” I sighed, resisting the urge to roll my eyes at their childishness.  I was too old for such highschool things. “Plus, I’m not on the schedule for the weekend, so I won’t ever get to see your so-called ‘hot professor’. I’m running late, so… bye.” I feigned a smile and turned around, heading out of the class with a roll of my eyes.A lot of these girls were not fully mature, and I could tell.Who the hell still gawked at a man’s photos and stalked a man? That’s just being jobless.

Just then, my phone chimed. I had a message from Josh Tucker, my boss at work: ‘Hey, Lyric. I need you to work this weekend for the halloween party. A lot more people signed up than expected. Make sure you wear a sexy costume. A lot of men will be interested, and you know how my sales spring up when the men are lusting after my bartenders. That’s the aim for the weekend.” Wow, Mr. Tucker. Wow.

I guess I was going to meet their so-called ‘hot professor’.