His Unwilling Muse

Chapter 4: Top student

I'm chewing a raspberry flavored gum, while walking down the bright hallway. My classes for the day have finished and now I'm on my way home. Because I don't have anything important planned for the rest of the day, I stick to the beige wall, while the other students rush past me.

By the time I pass through the glass door, no one shoulders their way past me. The spring sun is still high in the sky as I stretch my arms wide into the air. It's rare for me to finish this early, which makes this opportunity of a canceled lecture even sweeter.

"Who is he?" A female whisper reaches my ear.

I lower my eyes from the sky to the ground and discover two fellow college students standing a step away from me. Their position blocks most of the front entrance, which forces me to make a beeline around them. They, however, don't seem to notice anything going on around them.

"I don't know. I've never seen him here before," one of them says to the other.

Despite not really interested I find myself glancing in the direction they are both staring at. My entire body freezes and I stop, not even noticing that now I'm also blocking the entrance.

Next to the row of at least twenty chained bikes stands a lone figure. Despite it already having been two days since I last saw him, I instantly recognize him.

Nathaniel... No, even inside my mind the name sounds too long.

Nate. Yes, that's much better.

While most of the other students, with the exception of a few giggling groups, walk right past him, he remains nailed to his spot. His eyes are shielded by a pair of black sunglasses, which are matched with a black leather jacket and a dark pair of ripped jeans.

My eyes fly down to his hands, however, both of them are empty today. His trusty companion is nowhere in sight, which for some reason makes me feel like he is missing a vital part of his body.

He looks like he's waiting for someone, and despite my best intentions I find myself wondering if he already found a new victim he's claiming is his muse.

I shake my head at my silly thoughts, and remind myself that I haven't seen him play for three consecutive mornings. He obviously found a new place to play at.

"Do you think I should go talk to him?" one of the two giggling students asks. "You know what? I'm going to do it."

She has shoulder-length red hair and swings her hips in a soft rhythm as she begins to make her way toward Nate. Right at that moment the said guy turns his head in our direction. He lifts his hand in greeting, but because of the sunglasses I can't tell who he's looking at. Me, the redhead walking toward him, or perhaps someone else entirely.

For a second I consider walking into the opposite direction and pretend like this never happened. The fact that my bike is among the parked bikes he's standing next to has me swallowing my doubts. Who cares whom he's here for.

I square my shoulders and walk forward. While I am still several steps away, the redhead comes to a stop in front of Nate and the said guy lifts his sunglasses. I force myself to tear my eyes off them and focus on my bike instead. Just a little farther.

"Violet."

Nate's voice reaches my ears and despite my better judgement I stop. I was just about to walk right past him, which leaves us standing almost shoulder to shoulder, but with a distance of a few feet in between us.

"Hello again." His lips are stretched in a charming smile.

The redhead still standing beside him scans me and then glares at me as Nate moves a step closer to me. The said guy, however, doesn't spare her a single glance before he crosses the rest of the space in between us.