• She had wanted to be different. And that was all he really remembered about her. It seemed pitiful, now that he thought about it, because after all, they did go to high school together. Hadn’t they? Yes, he nodded to himself, he was sure they had. But he never glanced her way. She hadn’t seemed worthy. He scowled at himself, uncertain why.
    He looked at her now. Really took her in.

    She was a glowing silhouette against the blinding lights of the dorm. She was hunched over a book, her latest victim, and he licked his lips thinking that she was his future one. She was pretty, he would give her that. He couldn’t tag her as gorgeous and beautiful or sexy but he was lonely, having just dumped his girlfriend the day before, and he longed for attractive company. She had black hair. And it seemed to have been set on fire, golden lights bounced off, and she brushed a hand through the long strands. Her bangs covered her eyes as she looked down on the printed words, but he didn’t need wait too long to see what color they were.
    Their eyes met. His smiled charmingly, enticingly. Hers rolled, and narrowed as if to say ‘Back off, bub, I’m taken.’ and held the book tighter.
    But he knew she wasn’t. What kind of guy would want a girl who, in the midst of one of the hottest college parties of the year, would settle down into a chair with a book and a cup of coffee? Who does that anyway? He restrained himself from snarling at the idiocy and made over across the floor to her.

    “Hey.” His voice was soothing, gentle, and alluring. She glanced up from her book, and placed a finger as a bookmark and partially closed it. He read the title on the cover, “Pride and Prejudice.” it read proudly as if the mere name could weaken the legs of a soldier. He inwardly smirked. He’d thought it was a dictionary.

    “Oh. Hi.” She nodded.

    “I was wondering,” he reached down, past her ankles, lightly touching the skin and not minding her pulling back, he grasped the fallen bookmark, “would you like to join me out on the floor?” She was tired, even he could see that, blunt as he was. And maybe that was a good excuse as to why she raised her eyebrows and stole a look at the carpet between them.

    “The dance floor.” He offered. He had to smile at her naivety.
    She seemed to contemplating the pros and cons of complying. He imagined her list and smirked. There had to be way too many pros to even keep track of. Their eyes met once more.
    She smiled. He grinned, of course.
    “What’s my name?” His jaw almost dropped. Name? Name?! What was her name?!? He let out a breath.
    “I…”
    “Exactly. I’m going to have to pass. But thank you.”
    She turned away from him slightly and resumed her reading post.
    He didn’t move away, he was amused at her reply.
    She could feel him staring, burning at her skin.
    She looked back up, exasperated, “Can I help you?”
    “So…what is it?”
    “What’s what?”
    “What’s your name?”
    She raised an eyebrow, “We’re in the same class.”
    He shrugged, “I probably don’t pay much attention in that class.”
    “We have all the same classes.”
    “Oh. I…overlooked.”
    “We’ve had the same classes for two years. And I went to Smith Chamber’s High School. Same year.”
    “Oh.”
    “Yeah.”
    “Maybe it’s time for a formal introduction.”
    “It may be.”
    “Well, I’m Jace Jackson.” He sat back down, unstoppable, “And you are?”
    She stuck out her hand playfully, a smile dancing on her lips, “Krystella Moore.”
    “That’s really pretty. You’re really pretty.”
    “Thanks,” she faltered a bit, flushing slightly, “and you’re very pretty too.” Krystella bit her lip, inwardly killing herself for being so stupid. But Jace laughed right out loud, freely, and Krystella’s blush deepened.
    “You’re funny, you know that?” She was sure he was exaggerating it but felt flattered anyway and hid her boastful grin. “So what do you say?”
    She gave him a quizzical look, “What do I say to what?”
    “Joining me out on the floor.”
    “Oh. I don’t know.”
    “Come on. If you’re talking about one of your friends seeing me with you…” She waited for him to finish his statement and when he didn’t, she merely replied with a roll of her eyes.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Well, they’d be rather jealous, wouldn’t they?” Krystella, as if on instinct, was tempted to laugh and nod. Her friends. Friends. As in plural. She didn’t have friends. She had a friend. And that friend, if she had heard that Krystella had danced with Jace, would have run right out to puke and apologize for leaving Krys alone for so long. But Jace didn’t know that side of the truth. He knew the beautiful side: the one where he was the most popular guy in the world, the one where he was gorgeous and could get Jessica Alba weak in her knees. He knew that side. But he didn’t know her side.
    “No, Jace. The last thing my friend would be is jealous. She’d pity me, perhaps, but never envy.”
    “Psh.” He laid back on the sofa, muscular arms behind his head. “They all want me.”
    “Yeah, for slaughter.”
    They sat still in silence for a minute, and Krystella went back to her book. She didn’t feel uncomfortable, Jace staring at her, being near her. It felt oddly familiar. As if that was a normalcy. Jace started checking out a girl on the dance floor and all was at peace. Until Krystella burst laughing.
    “What? What?” Jace flustered, his dirty blond hair fussed up.
    “HA!”
    “Wha- -appened?”
    “See here?” she leant closer to him, showing the bare pages of the book, “Mrs. Bennett? She’s…” Krystella glanced at the blatant look on Jace’s face.
    Bookworm, geek, nerd, loser. All those names. She shouldn’t have been so stupid as to expect Jace, the Greek god himself, to understand.
    “Never mind.” She covered up.
    “No. Tell me. I mean, they’re just words, you know? Honestly, you seem to get much more amusement out of fictional characters that actual ones,” he pointed to himself.
    “It’s not that, it’s just. Behind these walls…these pages, is another world. To know it is to conquer it.”
    “What about this world?”
    She was dumbfounded, she’d give him that. “This world? The one that’s as cruel as – “

    “As in your stories.”

    “Sometimes, yes. But one may always have the opportunity to close it if they wish.”
    He rested his chin upon his arm and sighed in contemplation.
    “I guess you’re right, Moore. With a book, you can always close the cover and just open another. But the real world…that’s the only cover worth opening.” He stretched out his legs, stood up, winked at her to form his goodbye and walked away.