Page 8 of Jace
Iamkinda glad that the focus isn’t on me for once.
But hell,thisguy is on another level. His unruly hair, which he repeatedly pushes back with one hand while hitting all the right notes, the way he thrusts his hips in sync with the beat, and those intense eyes that seem to connect with every person in the room. It’s as if he’s singing this song just for you.
Well, I guess I can understand why everyone is so obsessed with this dude, even if I still think it’s plain stupid. He’s just a guy. A very enigmatic guy, sure. But still just a normal guy.
Although I have to say that the way he moves his body should be downright illegal. It’s mesmerizing.
“Wooh, go Missy! You go, girl!” Lamar cheers beside me, and I give him a bewildered look.
“Are you demented?”
“What? My woman is killing it,” he defends.
I gesture toward the stage. “Are you not paying attention to him? Do you have ears?”
“You know, my grandma used to ask me that on a daily basis.”
Shaking my head, I refocus on Jace, feeling somewhat starstruck. Christ, he isn't even famous. But there's just something about him... I don't know. Yeah, they've definitely found someone better than loser Boozer Brad. He wasn't entirely terrible, but this? I down my beer, shaking my head in disbelief. I’m not that familiar with music, but I sure can spot talent when I see it.
And this dude is on a whole other level.
THREE
Enrolling in an eight am class on a Monday was probably not the smartest decision I've made in my life.
Nope, definitely stupid.
I groan and bury my head deeper in my arms, letting it bang against the table. How was I supposed to know that you had to individually enroll in classes here? Unlike back home, where classes get assigned to you, you have topickyour own time slots, courses and classes and practically have to make your own damnschedule. By the time I figured it out–mostly because Missy was being grumbly about a fully booked class she wanted to join–most of it was already full, and I got all of these lovely early morning classes.
It isn’tthatbig of a problem since I’m mostly a morning person anyway, and in the afternoon I have either soccer or band practice. On Mondays however, it’s just a pain because apparently Sundays are reserved for gigs. I didn’t even know aboutthatuntil last night when Missy pushed a microphone in my hand and told me to show everybody that I could hack it on an actual stage instead of at an impromptu party. And hack it, I did. The crowd loved it.
Well of course they did. I excel on stage.
The door of the Business & Management class swings open again, and a few stragglers enter, all in the black and orange hoodies that I saw a lot at the bar last night.
Looks like I’m not the only one who got little sleep then.
Leaning back, I push my hair away from my face and cross my boots under the desk, checking the guys who entered out. Yeah, they’re most likely athletes alright. Big burly jocks.
To my suprise, they greet me as they pass my row. The last one, a tall black dude with arms like tree trunks, even extends his enormous fist, and I instinctively tap it. “Hey. Jace, right?” He smiles when I nod. “You did good last night. Say hi to my girl for me.”
“Your girl?” I inquire.
“Yeah, Missy.”
Well, that’s new. “And does she know she’s your girl?”
He furrows his brows, walks to a seat in the row ahead of me and drops his bag. “What do you mean? She never mentioned me?”
“I don’t know.” Leaning forward, I grin. “Would be easier if I knew what your name was.”
“Lamar Price.” He runs a hand over his buzzcut. “Like the price–”
“He is,” another gigantic guy interjects, slapping Lamar on the back. “Don’t mind him. He starts to say stupid shit when he’s not walked regularly.”
Lamar playfully punches him in the shoulder, and they both chuckle.
“So, are we sitting here then?” Guy number two plucks his laptop out of his bag, drops it on the desk next to Lamar’s, and pulls his hoodie over his head, revealing some impressive abs when his gray t-shirt gets caught.
