Mac looked to the side surprised, noticing the very hot guy standing there.
"Hey," she replied.
"Nice shirt," he commented, and it made her look down. She had just thrown on something and left that morning, not noticing until now what she was wearing.
"Hah, thanks. I didn't even realize I was wearing it," she answered.
"So then I presume it's not yours?" he asked. She had to work hard to suppress her laugh. It was always so funny to tell people the story behind the shirt.
"Actually, it is mine." Receiving no reply, she looked back towards him, and noticed that his eyebrows were somewhere near his hairline.
"Boyfriend gave it to you?" She bit the inside of her cheek.
"Wrong again." He noticed her smile.
"Please, tell me the story behind the shirt." He was now turned to her, arms crossed, waiting for the story.
"The shirt's mine," she said, leaning in to him, and then walking away, book in hand. He couldn't help but follow her.
"You really want the story?" she asked, sitting down at a table where books were strewn and looked as if it was occupying at least five students, instead of just the one. He nodded, and she motioned to the chair in front of her.
He sat, completely forgetting about that law book he'd been looking for.
"It's quite simple, really."
"I'm a Kappa," she said, shrugging as if it was nothing.
"You're a Kappa?" he asked, incredulously.
"Yup." She bookmarked a few of the open books and shoved them in her backpack.
"I pledged and didn't get in." She looked up and made a sad face at him.
"Well, I got into Kappa Psi Gamma."
"But it's a fraternity."
"Well, actually, it's a co-ed fraternity, though it's not broadcasted," she said.
"How did you get in?"
"Well, I'm kinda a legacy. My dad and grandfather were Kappa's. After I did my research and found out it was a co-ed fraternity, I pledged."
"Not a sorority?" he inquired.
"I'm not sure if you noticed or not, I'm not exactly a sorority kind of girl," she commented.
He had indeed noticed, but not that it was a bad thing.
"And you live in the frat house?"
"Yup. Got the biggest room, too," she said excitedly.
"How'd you manage that?" he asked, impressed.
"Told 'em that if I didn't get it I'd tell everyone it was a co-ed frat. So Dom, the president, got me the biggest room. Anyway, before we move onto the subject of you, I have to ask you to keep this little piece of info to yourself. Got it?" He nodded. "Good. So. Did you get into any other frat?"
"Nah, changed my course of study and realized I didn't have a lot of time left."
"And what 'course of study' would that be?"
"Pre-law." She smiled, then frowned.
"I'm doing pre-law. I still have a lot of time left."
"I work hard." She motioned to the books scattered along the table. "Touché."
"Well, you probably do a lot of extra curriculars."
"I do football and swimming."
"That's a contrast!" she said, leaning back in her chair.
"Yeah, well. I've always done both." She decided not to let her mind wander to body parts currently covered. "You, any sports?"
"Just wrestling." Again, his eyebrows hit his hairline. "Y'know, wrestling the guys for the remote, wrestling for a slice of pizza, the usual." She grinned.
She caught sight of the clock hanging overhead.
"Oh crap. I gotta go!" She hastily closed books and shoved them into her bag. "If I don't get there on time, there won't be any food left," she explained.
She was ready to walk away, when he called her back.
"Forgot this," he said, holding up a book. Her face flushed pink.
"Hey, wanna do lunch, tomorrow?"
"Sure," she said. "Swing by the house, pick me up at noon."
"Hey, I'm Harm," he said. She was already walking away, but turned and walked backwards.
"Mac," she said and was gone.
The next day he was standing on the doorstep of the house, at 12.05. He had cursed himself for being late.
He knocked on the door. From inside he heard someone hit something, some cursing and then the door swung open.
The guy who opened the door seemed very uninterested.
Harm opened his mouth to talk, but he caught him off.
"No, we're broke, so we can't donate anything, except beer, which we're not going to donate." He was about to close the door, when Harm intervened.
"Actually, I'm here for Mac."
"Mac?" he asked, surprised.
"Yeah, female, about five-ten. Dark brown, shoulder-length hair."
"What did you say your name was?" The guy had narrowed his eyes and was checking him out.
"Harm." The guy stuck up his index finger, as if making him wait one minute. He stepped deeper into the hallway.
"WHAT?!" came the reply.
"THERE'S A LOVERBOY ON OUR DOORSTEP ASKING FOR YOU!"
"HE SAYS HIS NAME IS HARM."
A third voice interrupted their loud conversation.
"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WE'RE TRYING TO WATCH THE GAME! MAC GET DOWN HERE SO YOU GUYS CAN STOP FUCKING YELLING!"
The guy ushered Harm inside and made him wait in the foyer while he went back to watching the game.
Mac came bounding down the stairs, as casual as can be, but looking gorgeous just as well. Sporting a pair of skinny jeans and a V-neck sweater, she looked divine.
"You're late," she said. He looked at his watch.
"Six minutes. I'm sorry." She couldn't help but give him a once-over. His arms were crossed, making his muscles, covered by a shirt, look very inviting.
"Well, let's go, Loverboy."
They walked down the steps and Mac noticed a cherry red Corvette parked in front of the house.
She whistled, impressed.
"Yours?" He nodded. She let her fingertips graze the hood. "6.2 liter, V8 engine. 6 speed manual transmission. 2009 'Vette. Nice."
"You know your cars," he commented and opened the door for her.
"Yeah. I'm more of a Mustang person, though."
"So that one's yours?" He pointed to one parked across the street.
"Yup. Quite surprising, though. I won it."
"You won a car?"
"Yup. I bought one raffle ticket from this little kid who was raising funds to go to a convention somewhere in the Caribbean. I forgot all about it, next thing I know, I'm being called by his advisor that I'd won the car."
"And I'd heard some people bought books of raffle tickets. I buy one and go with the grand prize."
"Biggest thing I ever won was flying lessons."
"Flying lessons? That's an unconventional prize." He was already driving, and it was almost surreal how relaxed she could be around him.
"Yeah. It was some sort of weird tradition, from my hometown. All the adults would find something to prize off, they came up with the weirdest things. My cousin won a piggybank made from wires."
"Wires?" she asked amusedly.
"Yeah, it was all really strange. Anyway, I won flying lessons. A guy a few blocks down was a pilot, and he decided he wanted to teach one of us how to fly an airplane."
"Wow. You must've been really happy."
"I was. Turns out, it was the best thing he could've done. I used to be afraid of flying, now I fly Cessna's whenever I get the time."
He looked over at her and found her looking at him surprised.
"Wow. That's something... flyboy."