Page 19 of Innocently Imprisoned By the Bratva

I watch as Pippa stops to readjust the heavy load of books in her arm under a tree. I lean against a nearby tree, watching her draw attention from both guys and girls alike. It amuses me how oblivious she is to the glances she receives from those walking by, their eyes glued to her face, her hair, the curves under those jeans.

Just then, a group of girls walk up to her.

“Pippa,” one of them says. “We haven’t seen you for the past few days.”

“Got a little sick,” she tells them, the lie flowing smoothly off her tongue.

"Did you gain more weight, Pippa? You know, there's a gym on campus," one girl snickers, tossing her perfectly coiffed hair over her shoulder. “It might help boost your immune system, too.”

"Maybe she was comfort eating. I do that sometimes when I’m sick,” another girl, sickly thin, chimes in. Her support pretends to be helpful, but I can see the insult layered beneath. My fists clench as I hear classmates' cruel remarks, blood boiling beneath the surface. It takes every ounce of self-control I possess not to march over there and teach them a lesson they won't forget. They and I both know the truth: They’re just envious of Pippa. She’s beautiful; her curves could be sculpted by Michelangelo himself.

Instead, I focus on the way Pippa holds herself—chin lifted, eyes defiant—and watch to see what she might do next.

"Actually, I was too busy trying to keep up with studying to worry about my weight or making friends," she retorts, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You should try it sometime. Maybe then you'd have something more interesting to talk about than other people's bodies."

"Damn, Pippa," I whisper, a grin spreading across my face. "You're full of surprises."

Pippa flashes them a sweet smile before continuing on her way, leaving them standing there, mouths agape. A smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth as I notice her guard trying to keep up with her pace. She has no idea she's giving him a run for his money, but I admire her tenacity. She’s shown them, and unwittingly me, just what she’s made of.

***

Reaching the building, she pauses and glances over her shoulder, those doe eyes of hers searching. I duck behind a tree, heart hammering. Does she sense me here? After a moment, she turns and heads inside.

I follow and wait as she enters a classroom. Five minutes later, I position myself outside the door and peek in.

There she is, front row center, keenly attentive as the professor drones on. She focuses intently, highlighting key passages in her textbook and jotting down notes. She’s so into her book, that a small double chin pools beneath her face. I smile, realizing this is the first time I’ve seen her so unconscious of herself. Usually, I get the sense that she’s shy around me, aware of how she looks and comes across. But here, in this classroom, she’s got this endearing lack of self-consciousness, her focus beyond herself and the people around her. It’s a good look on her, this state with the cute double chin when the rest of the world is lost on her.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts when Pippa raises her hand, jumping right into the class discussion. "Professor, I'm wondering if you could expand more on the symbolism of the white whale in Moby Dick. How does it represent both nature's indifference but also man's obsession?"

The professor's eyes light up, clearly impressed by her insight. "Excellent question, Pippa. The whale is indeed a multilayered symbol…"

As he delves into an analysis of the whale's meaning, Pippa listens raptly, head cocked to one side. Now and then, she interjects with another probing question, drawing approving murmurs from her classmates. Look at her go, that sharp mind of hers soaking up every word. I find myself wondering if she pays this much attention when I speak to her. I find myself wishing her to. I find myself leaning forward, utterly captivated by her intelligence.

To be honest, I knew she can be a firecracker, but I didn’t realize her intellect runs this deep in the classroom. I feel a swell of pride watching Pippa hold her own, far ahead of her classmates.

The students who mocked her earlier don't stand a chance against that quick mind and fiery spirit.

When the lecture ends, Pippa lingers, continuing her discussion with the professor. Her eyes shine with that thirst for knowledge I find so captivating. She's completely in her element here. She bids goodbye to the professor and makes her way out of the room. I duck behind some students, and turn my back to where she’ll exit from, bending down to tie my laces so she doesn’t notice my tall frame.

I watch her from the corner of my eye, and when she and Dmitri begin walking away from me, I rise and slip into the shadows, tracking Pippa as she makes her way to the cafeteria.

She grabs a salad and bottled water, then scans the busy room. A group of girls wave her over.

"Pippa, come sit with us!" one calls out. I recognize her as the ringleader from earlier.

Pippa hesitates, suspicion flickering across her face. She doesn’t let loneliness win over. She shakes her head, having learned from her previous interactions, and proudly walks over to an empty table. She pulls out a book, and begins to read, eating while she does.

Five minutes later, a group of guys saunter over to her table, eyeing her. My muscles tense, senses on high alert. Their body language spells trouble.

"Hey Pippa, mind if we join you?" a guy asks with an oily grin. He has messy blond hair and a Letterman jacket—the stereotypical arrogant jock.

Before Pippa can respond, the guys grab chairs and make themselves at home.

"We just wanted to get to know the hottest girls on campus," the jock says, leaning toward Pippa. She shrinks back, clutching her bag in her lap.

My fists clench and unclench. Every instinct screams to go over there, but I force myself to wait and watch. From what I’ve seen, Pippa is tougher than she looks, and something tells me she’ll manage just fine.

"So, Pippa, have you managed to bag a boyfriend yet, or are you still flying solo?" one of them asks loudly. His friends titter.

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