A Virgin For The Player

Alice My name is Alice Grey, and I've never had a friend. I'm unsure why. It's not like I'm mean—quite the contrary, I'm friendly. Yet I've been bullied and alone my entire life. It started back in middle school. No one ever wanted to pick me when people called out names to form their teams for those dumb sports in school.  I hung out in the back, introverted and afraid. Then when the person choosing for their team would finally reluctantly say my name, I always felt relieved to be remembered. I'm the type of person most people forget even exists. But maybe this will be my year. Today is my first day as a college freshman, and my hands and neck are covered in a cold sweat as I walk up the stairs. My heart is pumping a mile per minute. This year I will no longer be weak little Alice Grey! I will walk through these doors and become a new woman! Here is to a new future! I got nothing to fear! Or so I thought... Because sadly, life isn't as simple as it seems. The second I walk inside the building, my eyes stop on him. Nathan Douglas—the devil in hot guy's clothing. Set on this earth to torment me. Tall and imposing. Nathan sits on the stairs inside, surrounded by friends and girls. A shudder sweeps down my spine. In some people's eyes, Nathan might be a walking daydream: beautiful and an athlete prodigy. But in mine, he is a nightmare. I haven't seen him in two years. He is bigger now, definitely built for the sport he plays, hockey. Broad-shouldered and muscular, I bet he can deliver a nasty hit on the ice. But I'm not admiring him like the other girls are. I fear him. Nathan bullied me in middle school and half of high school before graduating. I still remember how he used to steal the drawings I carried and flip through them without my permission. He once smiled down at one drawing, saying, "Wow, perhaps you're the new Picasso, Alice?" Mean, mean, so damn mean! I still suffer nightmares from the humiliation that followed after that. Everyone called me Picasso for a year, and it was terrible. I still fear Nathan. That's why I stand rooted to my spot, but when those ice-blue eyes meet mine, the usual comments don't leave his mouth. I'm met with silence. Huh? There is recognition in Nathan's gaze. He definitely remembers me, but there aren't any emotions crossing his features—no hatred or disgust. He rakes me up and down and then quickly looks away. And that's how my first reunion with the guy who bullied me for six years goes. No words are exchanged, yet my heart is still clapping against my ribcage.  A girl sitting next to Nathan spots me. She is pretty and leans close to his ear, whispering loud enough for me to hear. "Hey, isn't that Alice?"  "It is, isn't it?" Andrew, Nathan's friend, says. "I haven't seen her in a year." Everyone except Nathan falls into gossiping about me. They aren't very secretive, though. I can hear what they are saying. "Is she shorter?" "No, I'm telling you, it's the Asian genes." "That's racist!" "Who cares?" "Shouldn't she be a doctor by now?" Everyone laughs except for Nathan, and the girl sitting next to him swats her hand as if to dismiss the racist jokes. "Stop it! Look at her! She looks terrified!" No, I'm not. I'm just baffled that people can still be so mean in college. My heart is aching, and I fear nothing has changed from high school. "Hey, Nathan. You used to call her Picasso, right?" "I wonder if she still draws?" I keep my gaze on Nathan. Oddly enough, he doesn't even respond to his friends asking him questions about me.  Maybe he has moved on from his bullying antics? It doesn't matter. I can't stand here like an i***t all day. I quickly make it past Nathan and his friends, hoping they won't notice my flaming cheeks as I climb the stairs. I'm in a hurry to find the room where my introduction day will take place. It isn't hard to find. There are other freshmen there, and I make it in time.  The rest is kind of a blur. A teacher gives a speech. I receive my schedule, information about important deadlines, and the professors' office hours.  The day passes with hours feeling like minutes. I'm now free to head home. I don't live in the dorms but with my family. As I wander across the parking lot, the hair on my back rises to stand on edge. Next to my tiny red Fiat borrowed from my mom stands Nathan, leaning against a black pickup truck. He is alone and smoking a cigarette. Ouch, what do I do now? I think about turning around to avoid him, but then I get angry with myself for being a coward. My mom always preaches, "You have to face your fears to overcome them!" Which will be my motto this year. Nathan doesn't scare me!  Well... That is a straight-up lie, yet I still walk over to my car, but I'm not ignored. The second Nathan notices me, he steps forward. Out from the shadows, like the wolf ready to s*******r the lamb. His shadow falls over me, and I stand rooted to my spot as he towers above me. "Hello, Alice." Nathan's deep voice alone got the blood in my veins freezing over. Somehow, I manage to answer. "Hi..." He looks over at my car. "A red Fiat—how fitting for a midget..." With my heart pounding way too fast, I lift my chin to face him: dark hair and ice-blue eyes—perfect bone structure and stubble. He is beautiful and smells like expensive cologne. But I find his eyes cold, and his lips are far from smiling. I swallow thickly. "It's my mom's car..." I'm not sure why I felt the need to clarify. It just slipped out. Nathan's lips twitches. He is amused, probably knowing I'm nervous. I bet he feeds on my fear like a demon. "I see..." "Yup..." "It must be easy to find parking spots." Is he trying to make conversation? I can't tell what his deal is. "It is..." I mumble. "I'm surprised it's still working." My heart claps against my ribcage. "What is that supposed to mean?" "Don't those cars often break?" Is he trying to insult me? I raise my voice a little, glaring at him. "Mine works perfectly fine, thank you." Amusement twinkles in his eyes as if he likes getting a rise out of me. "Okay." I send him another glare even as silence falls. Nathan doesn't say anything else, but he does, however, keep his eyes on me. It makes the hair rise on my arms when he makes no move to leave me alone. Why is he just standing there? I size him up, and my eyes zero in on his cigarette. "Should you really be smoking?" I ask in a low voice. "I mean... You're an athlete." I think I see him smirk, but I'm unsure. I can't keep my eyes on Nathan's face for too long without feeling like my heart might explode. So I keep averting my gaze. Nathan, however, isn't shy to speak or look at me. "Athletes can't smoke?" Shit. I didn't expect a follow-up question. I wet my lips. "Ummm..." "Yes?" My ears burn in embarrassment as I mumble. "Smoking isn't good for your health." Humor lights his face. "No shit." "Yeah..." "Maybe I should start smoking more than one package a day..." Is he messing with me? Regardless, I furrow my eyebrows. "No, why would you do that? You should quit your smoking habit. Believe me, your lungs would thank you." Nathan breathes a laugh. "Are you worried about me, Grey?" "No, I'm just..." I take a deep breath. "Just don't smoke, okay?" "And what if I don't want to quit?" "Well, that would be a shame, Nathan. You will probably develop lung cancer early. Smoking is a stupid way to die." Silence falls again; it's like someone pressed pause. Nathan doesn't say anything, but I can feel his intense eyes moving over me as if processing my words. It makes me break out in goosebumps. Could the atmosphere get any more awkward? I'm unsure if the conversation is over, but I decide to walk forward—only for Nathan to step in my way. I freeze and lift my eyes to a formidable chest and a pair of muscular arms crossed over it. Okay. He is enormous and way taller than I remember.  My heart is racing as I lift my chin to face him. His lips part."Is Alice Grey lecturing me about my smoking habits?" "No." The corners of his mouth pinch when I take a step back. "It sounded like it... I wonder where you got all of that sudden courage from?" "No, I'm not—" I hold my breath as Nathan's ice-blue eyes roam over my face. He stands too close, inches away, and probably more than a foot taller than me. "You cut your hair..." Why is that important? "I did..." "Too bad," his eyes won't leave mine. "I liked it longer." My throat runs dry. But while I'm paralyzed by fear, more amusement washes over Nathan's handsome features. It gets worse the longer I stay silent. I should say something, but I can't form intelligent sentences. Can anyone blame me? This is the guy I feared for six years. This is the guy that made the entire school call me Picasso. I can't breathe in his presence! What does Nathan want from me? "I see you're as well-spoken as always. You really have a way with words, Grey," Nathan deadpans, yet I get the feeling his eyes are laughing at me. Regardless he steps away from me and heads to his truck. Though, before Nathan climbs in, his eyes travel to mine again. It's not a quick glance but a real stare followed by a smirk. Uh. Why is Nathan looking at me like that? Bewildered, I watch my enemy drive away without even telling me goodbye. But even with him gone, I stand in the same spot, trying to calm down my heart by pressing my hand against my chest. I was wrong earlier. With Nathan Douglas attending the same college, it seems this year won't mean a new future. I will still be the same Alice Grey. The weird girl who is constantly quiet and afraid. Perhaps I should just drop out of college? Because most of all, I would never like to see Nathan Douglas again.