Page 6 of Sassy Bennett Doesn't Do Romance

“What?” She prickles, then looks at me closely. It’s like she thinks she knows me from somewhere, but she can’t. I’d remember if I’d met this girl before.

“I saw you, uh…” I wave my hand at her jumper, oddly nervous. She seems so tightly coiled, the animosity coming from her is almost crackling.

“What’s it to you?” She challenges, looking me up and down, like she’s sizing me up for a fight.

“Um, just…” I falter, not wanting to admit I work at the newsagency she just stole from. My plan wasn’t to get her into trouble. Still captivated by her incredible violet eyes, I realise I haven’t answered her yet.

“Is your eye colour real?” I blurt out, surprising myself.

“Excuse me?” She takes a small step back, as though I’m some kind of weird pervert. I want to kick myself. I rarely have any problems talking to the ladies. Why do I feel tongue-tied right now? She’s shorter than me, but her presence looms, as though she’s seven feet tall.

“I’m going to go now. Unless there’s something you’re trying to accuse me of?” She watches me, her eyes flashing with defiance, daring me to say something.

“No,” I say. “I guess I made a mistake.”

“I guess you did.” She turns on her heel, walking away from me, and I watch her the entire time until she disappears into the distance.

I go back to the shop to pay for my notebook. I throw extra money into the till to cover the one she took as well. She clearly needs the money more than I do.

Chapter4

Sassy

Once I’m a safe distance away from campus, I pull the notebook out from under my sweater. I’m still surprised about that guy who stopped me outside of the newsagency. Not because he tried to bust me, but because it’s the same hot guy I saw at the Greta House party last night. I’ve never seen him around campus before, and now I’ve seen him twice in less than twenty-four hours.

My friends were right about him being hot, I muse to myself as I walk along. Not my type, of course. I could tell even from across the party last night. He’s more of a boy-next-door kind of hot. Seems my first impression was spot on, judging by the way he tried to confront me. Who the hell stops another student and accuses them of stealing? Why does he give a fuck if I walk around racking notebooks from campus shops? What a nerd.

I turn the corner onto Digby Street. It’s easily the most dangerous street in the whole town, but I’m not scared. Dealing with dodgy characters is just part of my daily life. I’ve never come across someone who poses a threat to me.

My mind drifts back to that guy. He’d get eaten alive if he walked down this street. I can just tell. One of my strengths, thanks to my job, is that I can peg people’s personalities pretty quickly. I’ve pegged that guy as a typical uni student, here to get drunk and laid with maybe a bit of study in between. Which is perfectly fine. For him. But for me? I need more than that. I get bored easily. If I ever date again, I’ll need someone who can keep up with me.

Why am I even thinking about this? I shake my head. Who cares about that guy and his mission to stop notebook thieves?

Stopping in front of an old weatherboard house, I pull my phone out and send off a two word text.

I’m here.

A moment later, the front door bangs open and Brittany runs out, flinging herself into my arms.

“Hey babe,” I laugh as I catch her. “Is he home?”

“Nope.” Brittany smiles up at me.

“Good!” I hand the notebook over to my ten-year-old friend. “Here’s the book you said you needed.”

“It’s so pretty!” Brittany squeals, hugging the shimmery pink book to her chest. “Thank you, thank you!”

“Hmmm, whatever floats your boat, I guess.” I say. I knew she’d love that shiny cover.

“Huh?” Brittany squints up at me.

“I just mean it’s not really my style.”

Brittany looks me up and down, taking in my black and purple hair and my clothes that don’t have a thread of pink on them.

“I bet you only use black notebooks for college.” She guesses.

“Good guess, squirt.” I ruffle her hair and she pushes my hand away.

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