Chapter Three ✘ Number 08

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"Don't give me love, governed by life,
Limited by these worldly heights."
Higher Place - Dimitri Vegas

I huff out a breath as I push open the door to the lecture hall of my first class at CSU. I'm immediately hit by the blast of the air conditioning, and I take a second to look around.

The place is huge with rows and rows of chairs in a slope. The front rows are already taken, so I walk up the small stairs in between the rows and take a seat somewhere in the middle. I'm a few minutes early, so I pull out my laptop and notebook, preparing my workspace. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot two girls climbing the stairs and taking the seats directly in front of me, a blonde and a brunette with purple highlights in her hair. They're chatting animatedly, and pretty loudly, so I can't help but overhear their conversation.

"Did you hear that Jace Parker is in this class!?" The blonde one squeals, saying Jace Parker like whoever it is, is the best thing on earth since sliced bread.

The brunette tilts her head in confusion. "But he's a sophomore."

Blondie nods in response. "Yeah, but I heard that he decided to pick up this class for extra credit or something. He's so hot!"

"He's not just a pretty face. Jace is captain of the varsity basketball team, CSU's star basketball player." The brunette replies, relaxing back against her seat. "But Nia, don't get wrapped up in him. He's a player. You'll just be another notch in his belt."

The blondie, Nia, pouts. "But he's perfect. God, those eyes can make me do anything."

I scoff silently to myself, rolling my eyes. I know this type of guy. Extremely talented in some sort of sport, popular, unbelievably attractive, has girls on their knees for him, but at the same time, a self absorbed jerk who only thinks with his dick. I tune out their conversation, absolutely not interested in hearing about yet another stereotypical athlete guy who'll fuck anything with a pulse. I'm going through Instagram on my laptop, when the door bursts open, and a loud chatter of laughter is heard, drawing everyone's attention, including mine.

A group of guys walk in, one of them walking slightly ahead of the others.

A mop of thick chocolate brown hair lay atop his head, messily styled. His skin is tanned, the features of his face sharp and chiselled. Even from afar, I can see his bright green eyes, glowing like emeralds. He stands tall, at least 6'7 towering over almost everyone here.

His toned body, and the signature varsity letterman jacket he wears makes it obvious that he's an athlete of some sort. The defined, broad shoulders and the bulging biceps too. He has on a plain white v-neck t-shirt that hugs his built body underneath CSU's signature black and gold varsity letterman jacket. Dark washed jeans clings onto his long, toned legs, Nike high tops on his feet. He's grinning widely at something one of his friends said, showing off perfect white teeth, two dimples forming on his cheeks as he does so. The guy walks with an air of confidence surrounding him, his head held high. Everything about him draws attention, from the way he walks, to his voice, and of course, his jaw-dropping appearance.

Nia grabs the brunette's arm when she spots him, looking at her excitedly. Right then, the guy turns around slightly to take something from his friend behind him. The back of his jacket has the number 08 in the middle, and PARKER in block letters is printed right above the digits. Judging by Nia's reactions, and the way this boy looks and acts, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that this is the infamous Jace Parker.

A scowl settles on my lips when I realise that number eight is my usual soccer kit number as well.

What are the odds?

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