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and if those paper wings don't fly someone's gonna paint you another sky

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This is not some kind of meet cute scenario.

They don't run into each other in a crowded hallway. She doesn't drop her books on the ground at his feet. He doesn't make some bet that he can turn her into the most popular girl in school.

C'mon, guys.

This is college.

*

Skye doesn't really like people.

No. That is a lie.

It's not that she doesn't like people. It's that people are often unnerved by her and she doesn't have the patience to play stupid to put them at ease. So it's easier for her to be an observer most of the time and see the clusters of people as they swarm to one another while she sits back from a distance and watches unobtrusively.

So she knows who Grant Ward is.

Knows all about his playboy reputation and his stupid handsome grin (guaranteed to drop a girl's panties on the third date) and his flashy car.

Knows all about the women who flock to him like they're part of his harem or something equally disgusting.

And she knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she will never become a girl in his phone.

She takes great pains to keep it that way.

Naturally that is when the Universe decides to throw her a curve.

*

Grant knows people.

He knows his way around them, how to get them to do what he wants (and what he doesn't), which smile to use to get a girl and the one to take her home after drinks. He knows all about the reputation he has on campus but honestly… it's not like he didn't earn every bit of it.

It's just that —

He's bored.

He is bored as hell and it's only the second week of the semester and there is literally not one girl in his english class he has not kissed.

It is depressing as hell and a serious damper on his game. (Which is always at the top. Always.)

He needs to get laid. (The tried and true solution for these random bouts of dissatisfaction in his life.)

There is a startling amount of noise and the entire class watches as a tiny brunette storms into the lecture room, scowling darkly when she realizes that the only remaining seat is next to him. She glares at him so fiercely that he honestly begins to wonder if he'd slept with her and left things on a bad note.

(Impossible, for two reasons — one, he doesn't leave things on a bad note. Ever. It's part of his charm. Two - judging by the build she's got and the go to hell look in her eyes? — he'd remember her.)

"Just so we're clear," she leans in, affording him a nice view of her rack (probably unintentional, but it's been a few days, so he feels perfectly justified in letting his mind drift), "not even if you were the last man on Earth."

It takes a second for her words to sink in and when they do, he grins so widely it is practically obscene. "I guess I'll ask someone else for a pencil."

She raises an eyebrow in challenge — because they both know he wasn't anywhere near asking for a pencil — and says, "Pity you can't find yours."

Grant laughs and the sound of it echoes in the big lecture hall, drawing the eyes of most of their classmates, much to her dismay.

He is really going to enjoy this. Because this? This will be work. This will take effort.

And he is no longer bored.

Once again the Universe proves that it loves him.