Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
“Why are you apologizing?” I wonder, looking ahead and easily keeping his lengthy pace.
“I know you would’ve liked to say hi to Luna, but my next class is on the other side of campus. If I don’t catch the bus, I have to sprint. Half the time there’s not room on the bus—shit.” He almost runs into a garbage can in the building, but narrowly avoids it. ‘Cause I tug him to the left.
“Alright, Quicksilver.” I redirect him to a rear exit. Less people. Easier to navigate. “Let’s go this way.”
He follows. “Moffy’s Quicksilver. Not me.” He says it like a fact. Which I guess it is one. Maximoff’s namesake is Pietro Maximoff—aka Quicksilver.
“That’s true,” I say. “Doesn’t mean you aren’t fast.” No one’s bombarding him—which is why I picked this route. Though, I’m thinking this path would’ve been a good choice for Xander. Maybe it doesn’t matter to Ben whether he’s pushing through crowds.
We’re outside. Tulips bloom in the flower beds. Spring is close but not quite here.
“Hey, Ben!”
Ben spins around on his heels. Walking backwards. “Cole! Hey, can’t talk. Trying to make the bus!” He whirls back around. Three more steps, and a girl with French braids cuts off his path.
“Ben, hey, you going to the St. Elmo party this weekend?”
“Maybe. Text me the details, Leah.” He moves around her like he’s being picked up with the breeze. Long strides that take me one-and-a-half steps to catch up to. He’s not graceful like Beckett. He’s not water.
More like, he’s tornadic. His peers are sucked into his sphere and get off on the static discharge, until he blows away.
“Katie!” Ben calls out on the way to the bus stop. “Nice job on the Spanish pres.” He speaks to her in the language.
She beams. “Gracias, Ben!”
He walks and talks and pulls out a blue Ziff sports drink from his gym bag, leaving the duffel half open. I think about Xander. How he triple-checks his zipper before going into the hall—stressed someone will try to steal his belongings.
Ben smiles at a tall athletic brunette. “Happy Birthday, Chantal. It’s today, right?”
“Yeah.” Her smile is huge. “Thanks, Ben.” I wait for her to wish him one back, but she doesn’t register it’s also his birthday.
Come to think of it, none of his friends from Penn have said a thing about his birthday today. Odd, really, considering it’s on the Cobalt Wiki page. I’d look that shit up. But I also love this fandom. So…
“What up, bro?” A jock clasps hands with Ben at the bus stop.
“No, I know, man.” Ben talks. “We choked last night.” He never pauses long enough for a full conversation. “Take care, Miles!” He’s on the bus, not searching for a seat. We stay near the doors and grip the handles above us as the bus bumps along the street.
I wanna ask him how many people he knows by name at this Ivy League. Home to over nine thousand undergrads. How can he even keep them all straight? But those are questions for a later date. Tab them into: The Mysteries of the Cobalt Empire. Right under what the hell happens on Wednesday nights.
We’ve jumped off the bus.
He’s power walking into a science building, and I easily mimic his pace now. Ben takes a swig of his Ziff. Inside, he tells me which classroom he needs to be in. We near an emptier hall.
Turning a corner, he stops abruptly and even backtracks to the ajar door of a science lab. He swings his head to me like did you see that?
I peer in the lab. Among beakers and vials and empty black tables, I recognize the short blonde who’s in a full-death glare at the professor. Harriet Fisher—she was Luna’s lab partner last semester.
Feels uncomfortable, even from out here. Harriet and the professor are strangely the only two in the lab, and they’re speaking with heat of a personal conflict, not strife over a failed grade or broken test tube.
Ben’s not moving anymore. He twists his head back for some reason. I follow his gaze. No one’s in the hall. The whole building is starting to quiet as doors slam shut.
I check my watch. “You’re gonna miss the start of class.”
“Yeah, I know.” He nudges the door to the lab further open. He’s moving toward Harriet—then the professor grabs her elbow.
Ben shoots forward like a bullet. “Hey!” He drops his gym bag, and alarm slams me forward too.
The professor jolts from Harriet like an electric fence zaps him. Hurriedly, he whisper-sneers something to the girl, then tries to make a quick exit.
“Whoa,” I glare and reach out to stop him.
He raises his hands high like I’m infected waste he’s stepping around. “Mind your own business and I’ll mind mine.”
“Don’t be a sleezy professor and maybe I will!” I shout after him. He’s gone. Fuck that guy. Boils my blood thinking he might make passes at other students, and I speak hushed in my mic about the professor to my boss.