First Day

Sam felt the quiet surge of an insta-crush. Tall and handsome with a swimmer's body...and a meaningful relationship with literature? Sign her up. But wait. She wanted this guy, too? When would it end?

Marco Panatta came next.

"My favorite book is Melville's Moby Dick."

He glanced at Kyle, a slight frown on his face, as if debating something. Was this a competition? Had Marco come unprepared for Kyle's game? No, Marco had his own quote; he'd just needed a moment to remember: "'He piled upon the whale's white hump the sum of all the general rage and hate felt by his whole race from Adam down; and then, as if his chest had been a mortar, he burst his hot heart's shell upon it.'"

With a confident smirk directed at Kyle, Marco finished with some commentary. "Ahab could not control his feelings of revenge for Moby Dick, the whale that had taken his leg."

The class fell to silence. Wow. Okay, Sam had some assumptions to revisit.

A girl across from Sam tittered, breaking the spell. Probably because of all the times Marco had said the word "dick." Sam rolled her eyes. Though he probably did have a big dick.... Stop it, Sam, one hot college guy at a time! She nearly laughed out loud at the thought: as if she would interest any of these Ballister jocks.

"Well," the professor said, "maybe I ought to have Marco and Kyle teach the course."

The comment earned him a laugh, and he continued around the room. Then, finally, it was Sam's turn.

"And, what about you?" Ellard's gaze froze Sam's vocal chords. This was the first time a college professor had asked her a question. Sam had been preparing her answer, but she hadn't prepared for all the eyes.

Everyone was looking at her. Everyone. The beauties looked surprised to find her there on the wrong side of the room. The athletes frowned at her like she was a broken stereo. What was wrong with her? Did she need fixing? The beautiful men down at the end were like a pair of twin stars, almost too bright to look at directly. The blonde smiled, the dark-haired demigod watched her. Why couldn't she speak? She wished suddenly for the anonymity of her big calculus class.

"I'm Sam," she rasped out, the words an enormous effort. Her mouth was terribly dry.

Clearing her throat, she tried again. "I'm Sam." There. That was a good start. The professor's eyes were kind and encouraging.

"I'm in the pathways program," she continued, gaining confidence. "My favorite book is Kate Chopin's The Awakening. I have a favorite quote, too."

Sam's gaze slid from Ellard again to land on Marco, but he was too fucking hot, so she swept onward to Kyle, who looked back at her with friendly interest.

Sam swallowed and quoted Chopin in a steady tone: "'I would give up the unessential; I would give my money, I would give my life for my children, but I wouldn't give myself.'"

As she spoke, the words renewed her. By the end, she could look at the green-eyed deity descended from Olympus—and so directed the final few words, "I wouldn't give myself," to Marco. Damn, he was so gorgeous!! His eyes glittered like a pair of priceless emeralds, and Sam had the weird feeling that he was now really looking at her. Before she had been beneath notice—akin to a piece of furniture—but now she had become someone worthy of consideration. She averted her gaze to Kyle who gave her a small smile.

"Well done, Sam," Ellard said, "and welcome. I'm glad you chose to join this class."

While the professor discussed the syllabus, Marco stared at the tiny, shy girl in the corner. Where the hell had she come from? He glanced at Kyle for a clue, but his friend was staring, too. The girl, Sam, was looking at the professor, which gave Marco a moment to study her. She was pretty, but there were a lot of pretty girls in Marco's world. He was about to dismiss his initial interest when he noticed her eyes. They were the palest blue and almost seemed to have a light of their own, like a bright sky or an island lagoon in the South Pacific. They were amazing, particularly when set against the porcelain of her skin.

Marco reconsidered. She was beautiful...really beautiful, actually. Hers wasn't an overt, in-your-face beauty. It was subtle and delicate. She appeared fragile, a little plain at first sight, but exquisitely made, like a classic piece of jewelry crafted by a master. There was no showiness—merely a simple grace. Her clothing was the same, nothing flashy, but the cut accentuated the swell of her breasts. They were good sized, at least a C cup, and Marco wondered what other curves she might have.

The guy sitting next to her appeared to have similar ideas. He was not being shy about checking her out. Marco had the sudden urge to leap over the table and shove the guy off his seat. He should be sitting next to Sam.

Whoa. He'd never thought of himself as a protector—quite the opposite, actually—but there was something about Sam provoking different instincts. He wanted to claim her and then, to his shock, keep her for himself. Where had that come from?

Marco tore his eyes from the quiet girl and looked at the other women in the room, some of whom were staring at him openly. Did they think he couldn't tell that they were looking at him instead of the professor? Maybe they didn't care. They were all the same, more or less. Each was pretty in a conventional way; they would each be personable in a conventional way, too. They'd have something going on that made them semi-interesting but not too offbeat or strange, as if life at this stage were basically a Thanksgiving Day parade. They would give themselves to him in a heartbeat. He wouldn't even have to ask. He could simply crook a finger and they'd come.

While Professor Ellard discussed the first set of readings, Marco looked over at the line of men. He had told Kyle to keep his class schedule quiet, but he was surrounded by the same goddam people as in his previous class. There was only one exception. And, of course, if Kyle's flirtatious winks and smiles were any indication, his friend was also curious about the one new, interesting person.

Marco turned back to Sam. She was looking Kyle's way. His friend had already won her over with his million-watt smile and effortless charm. It was an annoying talent. Marco couldn't compete with Kyle on the charm front. He could be charming when required, but Marco preferred to win people over with stupefying skill. Or, not win them over at all. Just shove them out of the way. Or crush them. Crushing could be fun.

This plain, hidden beauty of a freshman girl, on the other hand, had looked straight at him and said, "'I wouldn't give myself.'" Well, there could be no greater goad to his ego, no more pleasing challenge, than a girl who thought herself beyond his power. No way in hell was he letting Kyle near her now.

Marco turned his attention back to the professor. Here he'd thought his year back at Ballister would be boring. What a difference a day could make.

***

So much had changed and so much had not. Sam stood before her mom's grocery; her evening shift was about to start. Sam had worked at the Seventh Street Market for as long as she could remember. This was where she'd spent nearly every afternoon since kindergarten, at first as a nuisance to her parents, then as a critical helping hand to her newly divorced mom, and lately as a fellow decision maker who knew most of the business. Sam's concerns had always been compassed by the four walls of this store. Now, she had a new horizon. Was today the beginning of a new phase? A new life?

Well, not yet. Sam pulled open one of the glass doors and stepped inside. She was still working here, not at a hospital or clinic. She was still in school, even if Ballister College felt like it was on a different planet from her high school.

Her mother, known around town as Ms. T, stood at one of the checkout stations, her graying brown hair twisted into a bun around a pencil. She was a diminutive woman but still an inch taller than Sam. She stood frowning at a piece of paper, which Sam hoped was not an expensive invoice. She turned as Sam approached, and her frown transformed into a proud grin.

"That's my college girl!" hollered Ms. T, as if making an announcement to all patrons. "How was your day?"

Sam cringed a little. Luckily, the only audience was Carl, a longtime employee. He beamed at her over a broom, as proud as if Sam were his own daughter. In a way, she was—Carl had worked at the store for longer than Sam's father. With a sigh that only made her mother's smile wider, Sam related the day's events, leaving out the hot boys of course. Her mom peppered her with questions, and Sam was thankful when a customer appeared so she could make her escape.

The familiar routine of the store helped to settle Sam's nerves. Stocking shelves, ringing up customers, mopping down floors—each task made her feel a little calmer, a little more herself. This store was home. No matter what happened at Ballister College, she would always find a haven here.

Her mom flipped the open sign to closed at 8pm sharp, but it was nearly nine when the two women began the short walk home. They traipsed the few blocks in silence, her mom's questions finally curtailed by exhaustion. Sam suspected a little dinner would bring them again to mind.

Their cat, an enormous orange tabby named Hindenburg—Hindy for short—greeted them at the door by flopping on his side with a loud trill. They could not proceed further without paying him a toll. Sam rubbed his belly in payment. Her mom took up in the kitchen to make a quick, late dinner: canned tomato soup and grilled cheese this evening. She asked Sam to set the table. Sam trudged dutifully to the cupboard for soup bowls. When she approached their small dining table, a little wrapped package was set before her usual place.

"Mom, what's this?"

Her mother was right behind her.

"Open it."

Gifts outside of birthdays and holidays were exceedingly rare in Sam's experience. She held the package reverently for a moment, then delicately tore the paper to reveal a black felt box. Inside was a small pendant made of woven silver in the shape of a fish.

"It's beautiful," Sam said.

"The fish of knowledge from old Gaelic tradition," Ms. T said. "My mom gave it to me when I graduated high school, but I wanted to wait until you started college classes. It's a big milestone."

Her mother's eyes were shining with tears, and Sam felt hers brimming, too. The day had been busy and a little confusing, but her mom was right: attending Ballister College was an important moment.

"Thank you," Sam whispered. She turned so her mother could fasten the pendant around her neck.

"I'm so proud of you," Ms. T said, taking Sam in an embrace.