My Favorite Mistake by Chelsea M. Cameron Read Free Book Online Page B

you already cracked the textbook open and took copious notes.”
    So sue me, I'd skimmed it before class. I was curious about how graphic the diagrams would be. Turned out pretty graphic.
    “I'll bet you're going to rip the pages out and plaster them on the ceiling,” I whispered back as Marjorie walked back and forth, using one arm to gesture and the other to click through the Powerpoint slides.
    “It's all up here,” he said, tapping his head.
    I was facing forward, pretending to be engrossed in the slides. He grinned at me and pulled out a pen, tapping it on his knee one, two, three, four, five times before he paused and started again.
    I stole the quickest of quick glances and noticed something else behind his left ear when he moved his head. Looked like another tattoo, but it was so small I couldn't tell what it was.
    The girls behind me yapped the entire class, and I wanted to tell them to shut up, but didn't want to start anything. The room buzzed with the hum of chatter the entire hour and a half. Granted, it would have been impossible to keep that many college students quiet for that long.
    Hunter was fidgety the entire class. Whether it was pen tapping or knee jiggling or stretching or twitching. He was like a five-year-old high on cotton candy. I hadn't noticed him twitching so much the day before, but maybe I just hadn't been paying attention. But I thought I would have seen him vibrating like he'd had twelve cups of coffee. It was very distracting.
    “Are you on speed?” I whispered as Marjorie was going through the grading scale for our homework assignments.
    “Huh?”
    “Are you on speed? Your knee is going a mile a minute.”
    “I'm fine,” he said, leaning over and putting his ankle on his jiggling knee.
    He started pen tapping again, and I reached out so he'd stop. My hand connected with his. It was the first time I'd really touched him. My fingers closed over his fist and the tapping stopped. I removed my hand without looking at him.
    “Thank you,” I said.
    He didn't respond, but his hand stayed still the rest of the class. When it was time to leave, I was hoping he'd just get up and go, but that didn't happen, of course. He packed up his things slowly, as if he was waiting for me. I took my sweet time.
    “Do you have another class, or is this it for you?”
    “I'm done for the day,” I said, standing up.
    He followed suit and walked behind me as we left the room. I hated the fact that he was behind me, because he had full view of my ass as I walked up the stairs. I half-expected him to grab it, but he didn't.
    We walked side by side out into the bright sunshine. It was blinding after being in the dark lecture hall.
    “Mind if I walk back with you? I don't have class again until four, so I figured I'd crash for a little while.”
    “It's not like I can stop you. It's a free sidewalk,” I said, looking left and right before crossing the road. He walked beside me, shortening his stride so he could match my stubby legs.
    “True, but if I ask it makes me seem like a nice person.”
    “You're not a nice person,” I said.
    He laughed. “You're right, I'm not.”
    He shook his head as if it was the funniest thing ever. It wasn't, really. Most people wanted other people to like them so they tried and were overly nice. Hunter wasn't like that. He was what he was and didn't give a shit if people liked it or not. No matter how crazy he drove me, I had to admire that about him. Sometimes I cared too much what other people thought of me. It must have been freeing to go through life like that.
    We didn't talk much as we walked. At first it was strange, but the more we walked, the easier it was. It was the longest I'd heard Hunter go without a sarcastic comment or sexual innuendo. It was kind of nice.
    “So, about dinner,” he said when we walked into the apartment, “what do you want me to make?”
    The room was quiet; the other girls must still have been at class.
    “You're serious?”
    “As a