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Filmed_ An Alpha Bad Boy Romance(6)

By:B. B. Hamel

I obsessed about his smile and the way he came on to me with such confidence as I filtered out into the beautiful day. I had to hustle to make it to my next class on time, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to mentally pick apart every detail of the short interaction. I wasn’t normally such a prude; I’d been with a few guys, though nothing really serious. I wasn’t a virgin, but I had only ever been with my high school boyfriend. Finding a crush was just never a huge priority for me, though I wasn’t as adverse to it as Chrissy seemed to be.

I thought I had experience with assholes like Noah, but he seemed like something completely different. I had never met a guy with such obvious self-assurance and easy grace. He was charming even when he was being obnoxious, and I hated and wanted him for it.

Chapter Three

That night, as I plopped down on the couch after a long day of class, I had to come face to face with my financial reality. My parents were helping as much as they could with tuition, but it was up to me to pay for my living expenses. I had some money saved up from my summer job, but that was quickly running out. I had to get the worst thing imaginable for a young girl living on a college campus: a job.

That was an exaggeration of course; I was used to working as many jobs as I needed to get by. I had always been as independent as possible, and hated the idea of someone else paying for everything.

I pulled out my laptop and navigated through the university’s job listings page. Last year, I had worked in the dean’s office answering phones, but it was such a miserable position, with so many people complaining all the time, that I couldn’t bring myself to go back there again. I scrolled through the postings, feeling more and more despair, until finally I came across what seemed like the perfect job.

I clicked the link and read the description. It was ideal, and I had plenty of experience in the position already. As Chris sat down beside me and launched into her usual early-semester bitch fest, complaining about her workload and schedule, I sent out my resume, hoping I’d get a call soon.

I didn’t hear anything the next day, but the day after that I got a call. Beyond excited, I offered to come in as soon as possible for an interview, and the kind-sounding woman on the phone scheduled me to come in that very night. I guessed they really needed the help if they were willing to meet with me that day.

My next film history class in room 237 was better. I sat up front and managed to more or less avoid Noah, though he did give me a huge smile as he walked by. That time, though, he didn’t sit next to Stripper Barbie, and I briefly wondered what had happened between them. I felt thrilled and terrified, all at once. I was able to actually pay attention that time, and found Professor Johnson’s lecture style was interesting but all over the place, which was exactly what I’d been expecting.

Afterward, I floated through my next classes, nervous about the interview. It wasn’t the first interview I had ever been on, far from it. But I really needed the job, and it was the perfect gig. I could have easily seen myself working there for the rest of my time at Temple, and the pay would definitely have covered everything I needed, at least with a little budgeting.

Finally, as my last class let out, I hurried over to the student center. I was scheduled to meet with the manager at four-thirty, and since my class let out at four-twenty, I had to hustle. I followed the familiar path through back hallways, skipped down the familiar staircase, and came up to the box office ticket window of the new student-run theater.

“Hi, I’m here for an interview,” I said to the bored-looking girl sitting behind the glass. She looked me over and nodded.

“That would be with Miss Havisham.”

I paused at the name. “Seriously?” I asked.

The girl grinned. “Yep. And don’t mention it to her, she gets weird about it.”

I nodded. “Thanks,” I said.

“She’s in the back office, right around this corner. Good luck.”

I gave her a little wave, grateful, and followed her directions. There was a black door with “Staff Office” in silver letters. I knocked on it twice, and a voice inside told me to enter.

I pushed the door open and was hit full-on in the face with a thick cloud of perfume. The room was small, dominated by a single desk in the center, but the walls were plastered with old movie posters. There was a coat rack in the corner with feather boas, top hats, and other costume parts thrown carelessly all over it. The woman sitting behind the desk was probably in her late fifties. She wore heavy makeup, and was pretty, despite the somewhat clownish appearance she had. Her hair was cut short and brown, and her smile was kind.