Indigo Read Free Page B

don’t until some girl steps in front of her and blocks my view. Sighing loudly, I move to follow Shawn out of the room.
    “That scar is insane,” he comments when we’re in the safety of the hallway. The shit eating grin is still on his face, as if he knows I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Indigo Olsen and it’s bothering me.
    I look behind us to make sure she’s not in earshot, just in case. “I know.”
    “But my god, scar or not, that girl is smokin’ hot. And that little dancer’s body,” he whistles and then looks at me from the corner of his eye.
    The backwards compliment raises the hair on the back of my neck, and I feel guilty for agreeing but it’s the truth. Indigo Olsen is easily the hottest thing I have ever seen in my life. When she walked through the door, all my air acutely blew from my lungs, seeming to deflate my entire body. All I could think about was getting her image down on paper. And that scar…intense.
    “She’s so tiny,” is all I say in response. I definitely don’t want to tell Shawn about all the other things I’m thinking. I’d never hear the end of it if I admit to him how vulnerable I thought she looked.
    “I felt bad when she walked in though,” Shawn continues, opening a door so we can step out into the courtyard. “They should have given us a warning or something.”
    I scoff loudly. “Yeah well not all of us reacted like an asshole.” I remember hearing Shawn curse beside me when she lifted her face. It made me want to punch him in the jaw. “And maybe I should send out a warning to all the unsuspecting freshman girls on this campus that haven’t met you yet.”
    Shawn laughs, and when we reach the cafeteria I cup my hands around my mouth as if to yell it out, and Shawn throws his arm around my neck in a mock headlock. Of course my words are a joke, but not really. Shawn has somewhat of a reputation at this campus, and as his roommate, most of it is warranted. I shove him off laughing as we make our way toward the buffet style line. I pile my plate with food as usual, and we go sit down with a couple other guys that live in our dorm. 
    “You talk to your mom?” Shawn asks, taking a large bite of his burger.
    “The Dean of Students? On a weekday? C’mon, you know better than to ask that.”
    My mom was one of the people who founded Fairbanks College about 15 years ago, so needless to say she’s a busy woman, and needless to say, that’s how I ended up here getting my undergrad. It wasn’t my first choice, but neither was it an argument I had any chance of winning. There aren’t many arguments I can win when it comes to going one on one with my mother, if I’m to be honest with myself. And now here I am, in my junior year at a small college I would have never chosen on my own, my major undeclared. The one perk is an incredible art program, and classes that let me concentrate on my drawing.
    Shawn winces, and I know I don’t have to explain. He knows the deal with my mom. How she barely has a second for me except to give her two cents about how I should live my life. Since I’m her son, I get it the worst, but I know it is how he ended up here too, but I’ve never asked him outright how he felt about it.
    “Did you see how pale she got when I drove up in Betty?” he laughs, referring to his motorcycle he bought this past summer. “I thought she was going to fall over.”
    I grin. “It was hilarious. She seriously couldn’t forbid me fast enough not to ride it.”
    “So that’s your bike out front?” John interrupts, leaning to talk to us from down the table. John’s obnoxious, and not my favorite person, but he’s one of the first guys we met here, and I guess after two years he’s grown on me.
    Shawn nods, and John shakes his head in amazement. “Sick man. How much to let me ride it?”
    As I expect, Shawn’s answer is sarcastic. “In your dreams dude, no one rides Betty but me.” He makes a lewd motion with his hips making most of the