Infatuation

I knew more about her for never having spoken to her. We didn't need to. Because the way she looked at me sometimes, that said it all. She wanted me. She didn't mind that I'd stop by her apartment late, or that I'd watch her sleep, buried under her gray blanket, while the stars strung around her room blinked on and off to the rhythm of her breathing.

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4. Avery

The coffee shop was crowed after 2:00, so when I got out of class after 3, it was swarmed with people needing a caffeine fix. While I waited, I took a seat on the couch in the corner, and busied myself with a book.

"What is that you're reading?" a voice asked.

I looked up and over at the man who sat beside me. He seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place him.

I showed him the cover, and he nodded.

"Koontz is good," he remarked, running a hand through his brown hair. "Did you just come from class?" he asked, eyeing the books at my feet.

"Yes," I said. "Psychology and Criminal Justice."

"I took those," he told me. "At Berkeley."

I raised an eyebrow. "California? That's far. How did you manage to find your way here?"

"My folks live here, and I had to move back to help out my family. I'm sorry, I'm being rude. I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Adam."

I smiled. "Avery."

His hand was warm in mine, and I watched as his eyes trailed over my face. "It's nice to meet you."

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