Bright green eyes. That’s all I could see. Bright green eyes, sparking with life and excitement. I’m sure every other girl in the room was staring as he walked – no, sauntered – in. His boots, dark brown leather, soft and scuffed with wear, thudded on the tile floor as he crossed the classroom to the front corner where the teacher sat taking attendance.

“Hey,” he said.

Hot fudge. That was the first thing that crossed my mind. His voice, rough, deep and rich, rang through the classroom and into the hearts of all the girls in the room.

The teacher, a short, thin redhead turned and took his slip of paper from him. She signed it and then pointed to rest of the class, indicating that he should find a seat. Several girls looked around and frowned, realizing that in the flurry of the beginning of the year, they had filled the seats around them with their girlfriends and potential boyfriends. I watched with a slightly elevated heart rate as he took the seat behind me, typically occupied by a guy named Warren. Warren was absent and today was my lucky day.

I resisted the urge to turn around and introduce myself like Marissa, a fair-skinned, blonde haired girl who leaned over from the desk next to him, pushing her chest forward in her low cut top. I could hear her murmuring to him about something or other and him responding with an affirmative grunt. Finally the teacher called the class to order and Marissa returned to her own personal space. Mrs. Blair passed out our most recent quiz she had graded and I smiled at my result.

Hamlet had been my favorite play by Shakespeare, if only because of the gorgeous language and easily quotable parts. The 98 stood out in bright red marker at the top of the page as I tucked it into my English folder for later review.

“What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason!”

I spun around and found the boy with the green eyes hunched over his desk, his head a few inches from mine. I froze.

“Hamlet,” I choked finally.

A grin spread across his face, lifting the left side more than the right. I felt my chest constrict and I had to remind myself to breathe. His teeth were pearly white. He leaned back a bit but the smile didn’t leave his face. I turned back around just in time to have Mrs. Blair call on me.

“…old?” was all I caught.

“I’m sorry, what was the question?” I felt a small blush creep up my cheeks.

“Hamlet was how old in the play?” she asked again, a small bit of agitation in her normally carefree voice.

“Thirty or so,” I answered.

She nodded and continued to talk. I had read the play my sophomore year at my old school and this year, my senior year, I was reading it again. Paying attention did not correspond to a high grade at this point. I could zone out and still maintain an A.

My mind wandered to the boy sitting behind me. I still didn’t know his name, though I couldn’t forget his smile. Smiles always attracted me to guys. Dazzling smiles left me speechless and this guy’s smile definitely left me in the category of a mute.

The rest of the hour and a half dragged by as I filled out more questions and picked up the slack left by the rest of the class. I seemed to be the only one interested; me and one other guy, Austin. He was thin and wiry, about five-ten or so and eighteen years old with messy dark hair and a fairly sarcastic sense of humor. He was in the theatre program, worked the technical side of it and understood Hamlet with ease.

The bell rang right on time and I stood to gather my bag from the ground next to my desk. I reached down, but didn’t feel anything. I glanced around and saw a pair of boots standing awfully close by. When I straightened up, brushing my short hairs not contained by my ponytail out of my eyes, I met a pair of curious emerald greens.

The grin still played on his lips. His high cheekbones and strong jaw caused my stomach to clench.

“This yours?” he asked, his voice holding the slight note of a southern twang.

I nodded and smiled a bit.

He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head downward. He stood near six-two or so. “Do you talk at all?”

I giggled. Oh God, I had giggled. What on earth had gotten into me?

He smile widened and he handed my backpack. I took it from him and watched as he left the room. He glanced back at me once before slipping out the door.

“Who – was – that?” my best friend asked, staring at the empty doorway.

I shrugged.

She tossed her light-brown, ringlet-curled hair over her shoulder and turned her pale blue eyes on me. “He was gorgeous.”

I nodded my agreement as we left the classroom.

She laughed.

“What?” I asked.

“He must really be something if he’s got your tongue that knotted. I haven’t seen you so star-struck since we sat second row at the Brad Paisley concert two years ago.”

I pushed her playfully and thought back to that night. Daniella and I had only been friends for a couple months, but she insisted that I come with her and a couple friends to see Brad Paisley, the one country music artist that I would have given my left leg to see. Ella had scored second row tickets from a radio show and so she decided to take me along. We had a blast and that was where we decided to be best friends.

“Dallas? Are you there?” Ella waved her hand in front of my face.

I grinned. “That was a great night.”

She nodded. “We were best friends after that; inseparable.”

I groaned as I checked my schedule. “Calculus BC.”

She laughed at me. “I have Bio AP. I guess I’ll meet you at lunch.”

We parted ways; she went downstairs to the Biology rooms and I headed across the second floor to find my Calculus room. I walked in and saw that I had Mr. Rogers. He was an older man, mid-fifties with graying hair, a thin build and an unmatched interest in all things triathlon and volcanic. I took a seat towards the back corner and watched the rest of the class filter in. They were mainly the top ten percent of the senior class, the kids with GPAs that matched their IQs and that spent their free time studying. Austin came into the room and took the seat diagonally up from me in the row next to mine. We exchanged greetings before he came into the room.

This time I actually took time to notice what he was wearing. Dark washed jeans, sitting easily on his hips, and a t-shirt that sat too perfectly on his broad shoulders and played with the color of his eyes, which I noticed were sparkling again. He wandered over to the seat behind Austin and sank easily into it, tossing his bag on the ground. It hit with a dull thud and something slipped out.

I reached down and swiped it off the floor before he got a chance. It was a book. Reefer Madness.

I smiled as I handed it back to him. “Reefer Madness. Good book,” I said.

His smile widened as he pulled out another book and handed it to me. Freakenomics.

“Good taste.”

He took the book back and grinned. “I didn’t catch your name,” he murmured, his voice washing over me like sunshine.

I bit my lip and felt the heat rise in my cheeks. “Dallas,” I answered. “My name’s Dallas.”

He held his hand out and I took it. His grip was firm and enveloped almost my entire hand. “Samuel. Samuel Riley.”

We dropped hands as Mr. Rogers went to the front of the room. He greeted the class and immediately leapt into differential equations. I felt my head start to spin as he continued to talk and my hand flew across the page in notes. It was the longest and the shortest hour and a half that I had ever endured. I knew this class was not going to be easy from the time that I signed up for it, but this was insanity. The bell rang and as everyone was hustling out the door, I scribbled down the homework, shoved it in my bag and tossed the bag over my shoulder.

Samuel leaned against the doorframe, looking more like a god than anyone should be allowed. His dark curls were too perfect as they hung around his eyes, the sunlight from the portable door reflecting off the lighter, probably all natural, highlights. My stomach clenched as I saw Mark appear behind him, not nearly as tall, maybe scraping 5’10”.

I stepped past Samuel and Mark threw his arm around me, pulling me into a too-intimate hug.

“How are you?” he asked, his deep voice not enough to distract me from where my godlike friend stood, appraising with a humorous smile on his lips.

I rolled out of his hug and he didn’t back up. Mark had an issue with personal space and lately it had been driving me nuts. I moved toward Samuel and laid a hand on his arm.

“Mark, this is Samuel. Samuel, Mark.”

I watched the two shake hands, Mark sizing Samuel up mentally, his face sporting a grim smile and from that I knew he didn’t like his chances. Mark and I had tried dating several weeks before but it only lasted six days before I was forced to call it quits. He was too needy and kissing him was like kissing my brother; though I would never tell him that. He still had feelings for me and made that apparent by his touchy-feely nature and his prolonged hugs and personal space issue.

Mark ran a hand through his tight curls, more fuzzy than actually curly, and looked at me. “Are we going to lunch?”

I nodded and looked up at Samuel. “Would you like to join us?”

He grinned and shrugged. “I don’t know anyone else here.”

We walked to lunch, Samuel and I discussing Calculus and Mr. Rogers; I told him about our teacher’s triathlon and volcano addiction and Samuel laughed. He told me he had a teacher at his old school that spent her time talking about continental drift. I laughed. We spent our time laughing as we traded stories, with Mark sulking behind us.

We stood in line in the cafeteria, several girls taking the opportunity to introduce themselves and then took the faux food out to the courtyard. We sat down at a table where Ella already sat with Lexi, another best friend and Chris, a girl from the basketball team. I sat down on the end, with Mark squeezing in between me and Ella and Samuel taking a seat on the opposite side of the table, across from me. Every girl at the table looked up as he took a seat.

“Everyone,” I said, getting introductions out of the way, “this is Samuel.”

They smiled and the other guys at the table shook hands with him, grinning and poking fun at his t-shirt; it wasn’t from our rival school, but it had a Jaguar on it none the less. He was ribbed briefly before everything settled back down into the normal rhythm of lunchtime; minus the sidelong glances he was getting from every female, I to be included of course.

Lunch passed quickly and finally Samuel and I parted ways. I went to Economics while he ventured off, following my directions, to his wood shop class. I spent Economics taking notes and doodling pictures of my teacher in the margins of my notes. The bell finally rang and I headed off the gyms for soccer.

I met Chris by the gyms and we headed into the locker room to change.

“I’m going to shoot Mark.”

I laughed. “Isn’t that my job? I’m the one he won’t leave alone.”

“If he doesn’t stop bugging me about Samuel and what your relationship with him is, I’m going to lose it, and it’s going to be his life that ends.”

I just shook my head and opened my locker. I changed into my shorts and jersey and then sat down to put on my shin guards and cleats. She changed into shorts and a jersey and sat down to put on her knee brace and her basketball shoes.

I jogged out to meet my team on the soccer field at the back of campus. Most of them were already there and I went to stand next to Mischa and Rebecca.

Rebecca swept her dark hair into a ponytail and turned to face me.

“So what was that hottie that I saw you with earlier?” she asked.

Mischa seemed suddenly roped into the conversation at the word “hottie.”

“You and a hottie? I thought the only guys you ever hung out with were the ones like Mark.”

I shook my head. “He’s new. We have English and Calculus together.”

“What does he look like?” Mischa asked.

I could see her mind already at work, wondering what her chances would be with someone who actually possessed a brain and utilized it.

“Dark curls, about six-two with bright green eyes and a definitely athletic build. All around good looking to anyone with eyes,” I answered.

“Don’t even think about it,” Ella said from behind me. “He looked like he only had eyes for her.”

Mischa’s mood took a turn for the worse. “Oh look who it is, Boyfriend Stealer Barbie.”

“Just because Ben wanted a real relationship, doesn’t mean that I stole him. He dumped you and then asked me out.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you said yes.”

“No, not really. But it doesn’t matter now does it, because the chips have fallen.”

Mischa turned away and glared across the field.

“Can’t you two be civil towards one another for a day or so?” Rebecca asked.

“It’s not my fault he didn’t want to be with Bang Her Barbie.”

I sighed. “Don’t even bother,” I told my sister as she opened her mouth again. “It’s not going to change anything.”

Rebecca shut her mouth and rolled her eyes as Coach Davidson walked out onto the field. Practice was grueling. It lasted three hours; the hour and a half designated for class time and the hour and a half after school designated for practice. Ella, Rebecca, Mischa, and I trudged to the locker room, dragging our pained, half dead bodies into the showers. A hot shower revived some of my spirit, and as I pulled on a pair of shorts, a t-shirt and my tennis shoes, I started to look forward to whatever my mom was cooking for dinner.

I stepped out of the humidity of the locker room with Ella and Rebecca at my heels. Ella lived around the corner from me and I gave her a ride each day. It was convenient because we were both involved in soccer, so our schedules nearly always coincided. We wandered out to the parking lot, talking little because of exhaustion. Elle and Rebecca had climbed into my truck when I heard someone calling my name.

I turned to find Samuel. He was jogging across the parking lot, still dressed in soccer shorts and cleats. He pulled up short as he saw that I had passengers. I shut my door, knowing that my sister would eavesdrop, and walked over to meet him.

“Hey, Dallas,” he said, still winded from practice or from the jog over, I wasn’t sure which.

“Hey, what’s up?”

He ran his hand back through his hair, which was damp with sweat.

“I just, um, just wanted to see what time you get to school in the mornings.”

I smiled. “I’m usually at school about 8:30, give or take depending on my sister.”

I jabbed a thumb in the direction of my truck where Rebecca sat in the passenger seat, leaned over into the driver’s side, staring at us like a dog would a chocolate cake. He chuckled.

“So that’s your sister?”

I nodded.

“Well, um…cool then. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I nodded and smiled a bit wider. “Yeah.”

He gave me one parting look, a smile and a wink, and then jogged back out to where the male soccer team was still coming in from practice. I pulled the door open on my truck, slipped up into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

“So what was that about?” Ella asked, her head poised over my shoulder from the backseat.

“It was nothing,” I told her and Rebecca. “Just seeing what time I’m getting to school tomorrow.”

“Yeah, uh-huh,” she muttered, sitting back in her seat.

I laughed. “Whatever Elle.”

I got a phone call from Chris right before I was about to climb into bed.

“Did you talk to Samuel?” she asked.

“Yeah why?”

“He asked about you today.”

“Really, what’d he want?” I kept pushing, knowing that if I didn’t, she wouldn’t elaborate.

“He just asked about you. Age, single or taken, credit card number, social security number, the basics.”

I laughed. “And you told him what?”

“Told him you were seventeen, single, Hispanic and white female, born in Georgia, favorite color is green, eye color brown…”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Thanks. How’s it going at home?”

She told me about how her mother was still not letting her go anywhere or do anything, and I told her how the offer to live with me was still open and we traded a few other pleasantries before hanging up. I climbed into bed feeling better about my life but still slightly out of it.

The next morning I didn’t get to school until the bell was ringing for the start of first period. Rebecca had woken up late and decided not to hurry along. It was her loss though because she had math. I had student aid for my soccer coach and as long as I was on campus before the end of the period, she didn’t count me absent or tardy.

I got a call from Chris and Ella as I pulled into the parking lot, asking me if I wanted to join them at Starbucks. So I dropped off Rebecca, watched her run across the parking lot to the building and then put my truck in drive to join my friends at Starbucks. I had just let up on the brake when I saw a familiar face heading my way. I hit the brake again and shoved it into park. He came around to the driver’s side and I rolled the window down.

“Hey,” he smiled, sending my heart into a flutter. “Where you headed?”

“Starbucks,” I answered. “Wanna come?”

He shrugged. “I’ve got study hall, so sure. But let’s take my car.”

“Your car?”

He nodded.

I shrugged. “Okay then.”

I turned my truck off, locked it and then followed him out to the edge of the parking lot. My jaw dropped as he pulled out his keys and unarmed his vehicle. He pulled open the passenger door and motioned for me to come over. I held one finger, letting him know to give me a minute.

It was a Chevy Silverado, a dark charcoal color, with an extended cab, a six inch lift, four-by-four and a Hemi V-8 engine. He laughed as he helped me up into the cab.

“You must really be a southern girl,” he chuckled.

I nodded, a grin spread across my face at the roar of the engine. He tapped the volume control on the radio and it flipped on. If the grin could have gotten any wider, it would have. Brad Paisley cut through the noise of the engine, right in the middle of his song “Ticks.”

He smiled to himself and put the truck in drive.

“So where to? I don’t know my way around this city very well yet.”

I gave him quick directions, since the coffee shop was just around the corner, and then adjusted the radio so we could talk.

“So, Samuel,” I started. “Tell me about yourself. All I know is that you just moved here. I don’t even know where from.”

He turned his smile on me for a moment while we sat waiting for the light to change outside the school.

“A long ways away,” he said, his voice slightly reminiscent.

“Oh come on,” I coaxed. “Just because I never took advanced history doesn’t mean that I’m a dunce.”

“Well, okay…” He seemed to be thinking about how to explain it. “I’m from London; sort of.”

“Sort of from London,” I mused. “Well that’s direct.”

He glanced back at the light, which had turned green, and made the left turn.

“Okay, what about family? Siblings? Parents?”

He shrugged. “A mom and a dad; and an older sister. We also have a dog, Scorch.”

“Funny name for a dog.”

“My sister named him. He’s almost sixteen years old,” he said.

We turned into the parking lot and he shut off his truck.

“I suppose I should expect this on the way back too?”

I looked away, thinking that he might be mad. Samuel reached over and crooked a finger under my chin, pulling it towards him.

“I’m kidding,” he said, his lips still turned upwards. “I like talking to you. I’m just not used to talking about me so much.”

“Can I have one more question?” I asked.

“Sure, but that was it.”

His grin caused my heart to skip.

“It’s easy, I promise.”

He nodded.

“How old are you?”

Samuel seemed surprised by the question; he pulled one side of his mouth up higher than the other and looked away for a moment.

“Eighteen,” he said finally. “I’m eighteen.”

I watched Chris, Ella, Mischa and James’s heads turn towards Samuel and I was we entered. Chris sat with her back to the window, James’s arm around her shoulders; Misha was on Chris’s other side and Ella sat next to James. Chris lifted her water in acknowledgement. The rest had coffee, whether in frappuchino form or straight coffee form. Ella patted an empty chair as James nodded upward in Samuel’s direction. Samuel returned with the appropriate downward nod in greeting.

We went to the counter, I ordered my regular: a tall mocha frappuchino, and Samuel started to order just a straight coffee when I elbowed him.

“The regular coffee isn’t that great,” I told him. “You’re better off with something different.”

He flashed a smile at me and then turned it to the girl that was taking our order.

“In that case,” he said, “I’ll take the same thing she’s having.”

The girl smiled back and picked up two cups, labeling them properly and then handing them off. We then went to sit with the rest of the group. Ella had pulled up an extra chair. I took the seat next to her and Samuel sat down between me and Mischa. It was a lucky thing that Samuel was there because he acted as a buffer between me and Mischa. It wasn’t that I didn’t like her, but she definitely was grinding on my nerves recently. She wouldn’t drop the Ben incident, even though it had happened eight months ago and she had been through two boyfriends in that time. Maybe it was her lack of significant other that was driving her to such lengths to annoy the hell out of everyone else.

“So what’s up?” I asked, dropping into my seat.

Samuel slid into his more gracefully, I noticed. He sat leaning back slightly, his arm resting across the back of my chair, though more in a non-romantic-I’m-just-more-comfortable-this-way type way, and his long legs, in a lighter wash of denim this morning, stretched out before him, narrowly missing where James’s legs were stretched out under the table too.

Mischa glared at me before turning back to James and roping him into another overly analytical discussion of this past week’s new movie release. Ella propped her elbow on the table, took a drink of her caramel macchiato and then turned to me, her curls swinging over her shoulder.

“We heard that Devon is going to play in the Army All-American Bowl,” she said.

“No way,” I answered. “But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Devon Marcus played on our school’s football team. He was the running back and had carried our team all the way to the state playoffs last season. It was a record for our school who had never won more than four games in a season in the entire twelve years that our school had been around.

At the mention of football, James and Samuel’s ears perked up.

“Who’s Devon?” Samuel asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table.

“Devon Marcus,” James answered, “is one of the best players that this district and possibly this city have ever seen. He carried our football team all the way to the state playoffs last year, which is that farthest we’ve come in all twelve years.” James continued to list off statistics that just made Samuel’s eyes widen and jaw slacken.

I turned back to Ella. “Anything else?”

She shook her head, “same old.”

I heard our orders called and I stood up and retrieved the coffee from where it waited on the counter. As I took my seat again, the conversation had changed direction. Apparently Mischa had successfully reined the rest of the group into her conversation about last week’s movie and its statement about the issue of global warning.

“I’m telling you, it was a direct shot at the president for not doing anything about the issue!” Mischa’s voice climbed in volume.

Chris shook her head. “It was not. It was just a movie with talking animals designed to entertain a bunch of seven-year-olds.”

“Hello! Could you not tell from the way that the penguin was portrayed as always suffering from the heat, that –“

“Nobody cares?” I answered.

She glared at me.

I shrugged. “It’s true.”

James checked his watch and then stood to stretch. “We better go guys, it’s getting towards the end of first period.”

He took Chris’s hand and she stood with him. The rest of the table followed suit.

“Alright, well I guess I’ll see you back at school,” I told Ella.

She nodded. “Speech class, here we come!”

“Ms. Hamwell hates us,” I laughed.

“Only because we refuse to make things easy for her,” she chuckled, pushing open the door.

We giggled a bit more before splitting up. I headed towards Samuel’s truck and Ella went to her white ’02 Volkswagen Jetta. Samuel was waiting for me at my door as I reached the truck. He held out his hand, which I grabbed gratefully, and hoisted myself into his truck. He dropped my hand and then went around to the other side and pulled himself into the driver’s seat.

“Did you have fun?” I asked, glancing at his face to read his expression.

He looked back at me and smiled. “Of course I did.”

His eyes returned to the road, but my eyes stayed on him; namely his profile. I followed the strong line of his jaw to his neck, his broad shoulder, down his arms, to where something peeked out from under the sleeve of his t-shirt. I reached over without bothering to think first, and slid the sleeve on his shirt up to his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” he asked, curious, though not at all bothered.

I studied the marking, what looked distinctly like a tattoo, though for some reason I got the feeling that it wasn’t. It was a sort of tribal design, with the mixing of a Celtic design in the middle circle. It stretched from the middle of his upper arm to his shoulder.

“This is really cool,” I answered finally.

“What is?”

“Your tattoo; did you come up with the design?”

His friendly demeanor faded quickly.

“You can see that?”

I pulled one side of my mouth up in a half-grin. “Why wouldn’t I?” I teased half-heartedly.

He shook his head, the frosty question seemingly long gone from his mind, and his friendly exterior back in place.

“Never mind; I’m just being dumb.”

I let his sleeve fall and turned back to the road, watching the trees whisk past. I could still hear the uneasiness in his voice and I wondered what in the world could have caused such a reaction. It was just a tattoo.

We pulled back into the parking lot and I spotted Ella waiting at her car a couple rows up ahead. I hopped out of the truck and shut the door and when I turned around, Samuel had appeared behind me.

“Look,” he said, laying a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry about the way I responded. I shouldn’t have. It’s just a really personal issue for me, which is why I prefer not to bring attention to it. I don’t want to have to answer questions about it.”

I nodded and met his green eyes; the same color as the trees behind him. I smiled; I couldn’t help it. “Okay,” I answered. “It’s okay.”

He grinned back and I felt my stomach flee, leaving a kaleidoscope of angry butterflies in its wake. He touched the middle of my back, between my shoulder blades and we headed in the direction of Ella’s curious stare.