All We Want For Christmas Is You Page 3
I couldn’t stop my brain from whizzing around, looking at all the facets of the problem. Hockey Team; Sexual predators; Rating systems; Women being used for entertainment; this was a humanitarian story. My kind of story. Maybe even the one that I could submit to the newspapers in New York as a part of my portfolio.
“No that’s fine James. I’ll handle it.” I ducked my head down so that I could look Steph in the eyes, “I’m going to get to the bottom of this. I will expose this Puck Games situation. I’ve got this okay?” I waited until she nodded her head. “Honey, James is going to walk with you to the bathroom, go splash your face and take a breather. Come back when you’re ready, if you don’t feel up to it, you guys can take a walk or something okay?” I smiled up at James and gave him a wink. His cheeks turned even pinker than they already were, with even the tips of his ears turning a light red. Adorable.
“Okay. I’ll see you back at our dorm.” She whispered to me, as she grabbed her bag and headed towards the door, head down as she made her getaway. James was up and following her, grabbing his bag on his way out.
“James,” I called out. He turned to face me, “email me your updates on the weekend games, and look after her okay?” I put a little bit of steel into my last words, but softened them with a smile. My blessing, but a threat. I like you, but don’t hurt her.
He seemed to catch my drift as he nodded his head at me, before following after Steph.
Well, I guess I knew what I was working on for my next big article.
Hockey Players using Pucks to Score On and Off the Rink.
I could see it now; the headline on the front page with a two-page spread on page four. The rush of adrenaline that always accompanied the assignment of a new article, one that was going to require getting my hands dirty to reveal the story to the people, filled me to the brim. Ideas formed, morphed, reformed. I needed to get to work.
I turned around to face my team, “Okay everyone, settle down, let’s get this meeting started so we can all get out of here and study for finals.”
Chapter 4
Wednesday 29th November – 26 days until Christmas
Hayden
I entered my PYS101 class and looked up to my left at the tiered seating to see that it was already three quarters full of freshman already. I had no one else to blame about being one of the only seniors in a room full of first years, since I’d delayed doing this class from the beginning. It was Gen Ed and to be honest it had looked boring as hell. But since starting the class, I’d found a few things that were interesting, things that I could apply to my articles, ways of looking at issues under a different light, so I guess the administrators who set up the core classes did have some idea about we needed to know. Go figure.
I turned to my left and walked up the side aisle stairs of the lecture room, making it halfway up before selecting my usual row. I walked behind two students, having to squeeze past, to the spare seats that were just off center from the main screen. I left a two seat gap between me and the couple, and a single seat between me and the next person on my left. Nice gaps. I pulled the chair out from under the desk, sat down and dropped my messenger bag between my feet.
I rummaged through my bag and found my notebook for this class, along with a red and black pen for notes. I placed my things on the desk then pulled my aqua beanie off my head, fluffing my hair with my free hand. Hat hair was seriously the worst, and my dark brown waves were thick and heavy, which meant I always got the hat dent just above my ears and across my forehead, seriously sexy stuff.
My hair hung down to my waist with a loose wave, which I will admit wasn't exactly natural, making me feel like it swished as I walked. I couldn't bring myself to cut it. I’d had long hair for as long as I could remember, fusing itself as a part of my identity. I hadn't ever dyed it and probably wouldn't, unless I started going prematurely grey.
Shrugging out of my fleece lined black parka, the faux fur trimming on the hood tickled my cheek; I let it fall behind my butt onto the seat and pulled my mittens off, which were a matching set to my beanie, except these had cute little knitted flowers on the cuffs. When I saw them in the boutique store near campus during Thanksgiving break, I just hadn't been able to resist. Aqua was my favorite color. The comforter on my bed was aqua, the decorative cushions were aqua. I had splashes of it all over the place. Purple too because that was Steph’s favorite color.
Just as I dropped my mittens on my desk, a pair of big feet in white sneakers came into my peripheral view. And I mean big feet, they had to be at least a size thirteen. I followed the feet up to the black jeans that fitted rather nicely, and then to the black, double breasted, woolen coat with large, shiny black buttons. The whole package so far was looking incredibly yummy, erhm, I meant well put together. Please let there be a nice shiny bow at the top.
My eyes landed on his face, and I just about melted into my chair. Who looked like that? Seriously? And that hair? Women would be jealous of that hair. I was jealous of that hair.
Blue eyes with eye lashes that had that perfect curl to them looked down at me. Those baby blues were framed by high symmetrical, cheek bones. His face was oval shaped with a strong jawline, and lips that held a side smile that showed off the dimple in his right cheek. Be still my beating heart. Thick, sandy brown hair brushed back from his face, with longer strands on top, finished the whole look off.
"Is this seat taken?" He asked, voice confident, as he gestured to the seat closest to me and in between the couple.
Snapping my mouth shut, I brought my hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, but in reality, I was covertly checking to make sure I hadn't drooled a little. "No, it's all yours," I replied with a small smile, as I titled my head down a little to look up at him through my lashes.
He smiled a little and dropped his backpack down onto the table. At first it just looked like a standard black backpack, but when I took a closer look my eyes widened with the realization that it was a Louis Vuitton, the little logo embedded incongruously here and there into the black check print. This guy has some serious taste.
I nervously sorted out my things on my desk trying to think of something to say, anything, but my mind drew a blank. Me. The woman who always had an opinion about everything, had no words.
I turned to look at him, and it was as if he was waiting for me to give him a signal because suddenly he thrusted his right hand at me.
"Christian Alderidge," he introduced himself, flashing that killer dimple at me.
I smiled gratefully, twisting in my chair, and clasped his hand with mine and gave a light squeeze, "Hayden Halloway," I stated. My hand felt absolutely tiny his, which really it wasn't that big of a deal since I was barely five foot three and on a heavy day I weighed one hundred and fifteen pounds. He squeezed my hand back, the roughness of his palms an odd contrast. It was comforting to know that not all of him was perfect.
"So, are you a freshman Hayden?" He asked in a rumbly voice, holding onto my hand for a second before letting go to get his stuff out of his bag. I swear, I could see a slight tinge of pink on the tips of his ears, which made me smile at his sudden awkwardness.
"Ah, no, I'm a senior. What about you?" I returned.
"Senior too. What's your major?" He asked, looking down at me as he reclined back into the far corner of his chair, casually draping his right arm across the back of mine, the fingers of his hand almost touched the center of my back.
I went to answer with Journalism, but Professor Evans walked in, starting the class. I sat back in my chair, and Christian kept his arm there for a few minutes, fingers curled into a lazy fist and resting against my shoulder blade. Once Professor Evans got into the swing of the lecture and we needed to start taking notes, Christian sighed and then removed his arm picking up his pen with his left hand.
Why couldn't he be right handed?
***
I didn't think, I retained anything from that entire class. Christian's arm kept grazing mine as he took notes, causing my h
eart to stutter and all of my nerve endings to focus on the point of contact. At one point during the class, I’d tried to take a deep breath to get myself under control; instead, I got a whiff of his cologne, which was warm, a little spicy, but so smooth that I felt like I was sitting in a sports car with leather seats. Weird description, I know, but that's what it reminded me of.
By the time the class ended, my notes were gibberish, so I quickly shut my book before he could see I’d turned into a twittering nincompoop, and pulled my beanie and mittens back on. Christian was already putting his things in his backpack.
I didn't want him to walk away so soon, but didn't want to be all weird over a guy I had literally said fourteen words to. Fourteen, I’d counted them. I was seriously pissed that there were only a few weeks of the semester left and that this was the first time we were noticing each other.
I looked up at him as he stood, swinging his backpack up onto his shoulder. He took a breath and was about to say something when suddenly my phone buzzed on my desk with a text message. Out of reflex, my eyes dropped down to my phone and checked the ID; TutorAid. Someone needed a tutor. Closing my eyes briefly, I looked back up at Christian, knowing that whatever he’d just been about to ask me was probably off the table now, our tiny moment ruined.
"I'll see you on Friday Hayden," he said with a small smile, dimple flashing before he turned and walked away.
I sat there for a second, feeling like all the build-up had ended terribly anti-climactically. Huffing out a breath, I stuffed my bag with the last of my things and headed out of the room.
Friday couldn't get here quick enough.
Swiping open my phone, I found my messages and read the TutorAid text.
TutorAid: 11am 11/29, Bapst's Gargan Hall, Vanders, J. Core Humanities I: The Ancient World.
Ahhh, Ancient Egypt, my old friend. Sighing, I checked the time. I had fifty-five minutes until I had to make it to the session. I had to remind myself every time I got one of those texts that it was the extras that made a resume shine. No one wanted to hire someone who did the bare minimum.
I figured I had enough time to head over to the Coffee House on the way and grab myself a snack. I headed in the direction of sustenance, searching for the sweet aroma of brewing coffee. There was seriously nothing like it. Golden, rich, fragrant, warm on a cold winter’s day, and even ice cold on a summer day. Coffee was a gift from the gods to us lowly peasants on earth.
At the register, I ordered a large latte with two sugars and reached for a white, chocolate chip muffin. At the last second, I grabbed a second one for my tutor person; may as well come with a peace offering for a student who was probably freaking out about finals in two weeks. Maybe the sugar high would override their anxiety and help us to cut through the crap their procrastination had created.
Warm coffee in hand and snacks securely hidden in my bag, I checked the time again and saw I had half an hour until the session started. I headed in the direction of Bapst's anyway, figuring I would scout out a table for our session since the hall was probably jam packed this close to finals.
When I arrived, I walked up to the bored looking student by the sign in desk and asked if there was a Vanders already in the building, just in case. Surprisingly, there was. I was pointed in the direction towards the northeast windows about half way down, where the sun was just shining in.
I seriously loved this library. It was old and gothic, reminding me of Hogwarts. I felt like I was in the dining hall and Dumbledore was about to make candles float in the sky and food appear on the tables. Smiling at the imaginary food popping up around the madly studying students, who would probably all freak out and think they were having a mental breakdown, I headed towards the sunshine.
I approached the general area I was sent to and found a guy sitting all by himself at a wooden rectangular table for eight people with his headphones on. I looked around, but didn't see anyone else around who looked to be waiting for someone. He seemed to be way too big for his chair. As I got closer, I could see him tapping a foot to his music against the leg of the table; his history textbook open, with colored bits of card scattered all over the table, some with hand written notes on them. He filled in big, white, index cards with a black permanent marker on one side and detailed notes in pen on the other.
When I reached the table, I tapped him on the shoulder. Big mistake. I’m sure if I suffered from LBL – Light Bladder Leakage - then I would have been hustling myself off to the bathroom.
I abruptly found myself being loomed over by an absolutely massive man. And, I meant man. This guy was at least a foot and a half taller than me, again not hard, but still he was really tall. All I could take in was the almost black eyes hidden in shadows, staring down a straight nose at me with an intensity that made me a little nervous. His eyes skimmed my face, jumping up to my beanie and then flicking down to my coffee. I assumed he was assessing me for weapons.
In that moment, I quickly scanned his body. Broad shoulders that I didn’t think I could wrap my arms around, filled out a dark blue hoodie that had a white drawstring with wooden toggles. I could see the neck of a white shirt peeking out from above the zipper. Tan, loose fitting chinos incased legs that came up to my waist and ended at black sneakers. I finished my perusal back up on his face.
When his eyes reached my face again, they had softened, and I thought I caught a small flash of surprise before he schooled his features. We stood there, awkwardly staring at each other for several moments as faint Christmas music played from somewhere in the building.
I took the opportunity to look at more than just his eyes. His chiseled jawline blended into prominent cheekbones, made more cutting by his olive skin. His upper lip just tipped into a cupid’s bow; a full, lower lip with a black ring pierced through the right side, made me wonder what it would be like to suck it into my mouth. I forced my eyes to move away from that image, noticing his hair was closely shaved all over, as if he'd cut it himself and he couldn't be fucked using more than one setting. I settled back on his eyes, mesmerized by the emotions that flickered through them; confusion, anger, frustration, interest.
I blinked, being the first one to break eye contact, and tapped my ear with my right mitten.
He smiled at me sheepishly and pulled his headphones off to hang around his neck, hip hop beats floated down to my ears. "Sorry, I forgot I had those on. I hope I didn't scare you; I was just in the zone and wasn't expecting to be disturbed."
I smiled up at him, "No, well yeah a little, but not enough to make me run off. I was wondering if you are J. Vanders?" I asked him with the sweetest smile I could muster. My flirt-o-miles were going to be off the chart by the end of the day if I kept this up. Two seriously swoon worthy guys in less than three hours; I wasn't sure my heart could take it.
"Yeah, that's me. And it's Justin." He replied, reaching into his pocket and pulling his phone out to pause the music.
"Oh, well hi, I'm Hayden. I've been assigned as your tutor for today." I replied with a dorky little wave. Yay Hayden, why don't you bat your eyelashes at him too while you're at it.
"Oh, you’re early." He stated, looking a little flustered.
I was instantly put on the back foot, "Oh I'm sorry, I just wanted to grab a table. Figured it would be packed at this time of the year, and I was right, but you were already here, so, uh, I can go and come back when our session is supposed to start, I don't want to bother you if you are on a roll," I blabbered on. My Inner Voice yelled at me to shut up, but my mouth just didn’t listen, like it had a mind of its own, "It's no big deal, I'll go eat my muffin, oh and I brought you one too," I said as an afterthought and reached into my messenger bag and pulled out the brown paper takeaway bag.
Justin enclosed one of his hands over mine as I unraveled the bag, engulfing my entire hand. "No, wait, I'm sorry. Like I said, I wasn't expecting to be disturbed, and you were early. It's fine, I'd actually really appreciate the extra time if you can spare it?" He asked, subduing my rambling.
Happy to help? Seriously Hayden, I thought you were only doing these tutoring sessions for the brownie points.
Shut up Inner Voice, no one wants to hear your snark. I realized, I was having an argument with myself and knew that was one of the first signs of insanity. I gave myself a mental shake, trying to find my usual cool, calm demeanor.
I dropped my bag on the table and went to sit in the seat opposite him. I went to drag out the chair, but he beat me to it. My eyes were as round as saucers as he pushed it in as I sat down. Chivalry ain't dead in this one. "Thank you," I said as I felt a stupidly big smile spread across my face.
"You’re welcome," he replied as he sat in his chair, "I actually don't need a tutor really, more like someone to help me study. I use the Leitner System and just need someone else to work with at the same time."
Leitner System? I felt like I’d heard that somewhere before, but couldn't remember exactly where. Justin had his phone out again and was typing away at it, then turned it to face me with the Wikipedia page for the Leitner System open for me to read.
As I skimmed the first couple of paragraphs, Justin explained the basics of it to me, "Basically it's flash cards, but the idea is to do all your cards in a certain time period, then repeat it, but progressively shrinking the time period forcing your active recall to improve in precision and speed. I've used it for years and it’s always worked well for me. I just need a buddy to help." He said; his cheeks tinted pink adorably. Who would have thought that this gigantic, very athletic looking guy would be a total nerd when it came to studying?
"Okay, I got it. So, I’m your study elf, you’re going to get credit for all of my hard work," I stated with a sassy tone and casually flicked my hair over my shoulder; my Inner Voice rolled her eyes.
He let out a small laugh, deep and humming, which caused a curl to unravel in the pit of my stomach. "Yeah exactly, but I think you will need an elf name. Let me think," he tapped his index finger on the wooden table as he stared at my face; eyes traced over my hair still trapped in my beanie, and down to my ungloved hands. "I know, how about Haddy?"