LIBBY

***

As the names were read out, and people headed off to their groups, my mood was beginning to deflate.

And then as the list came to an end and everyone starts to file out, mine still hadn't been read out. I was panicking slightly, wondering if I'd given UNCW the wrong flight details, but then I definitely hadn't. I was sure if it. Knowing myself, I knew I checked it three times.

When the last group, including Steph, all start to move off, I force myself to say something, even though I hate making a fuss.

"Oh... Erm, excuse me?" My voice sounds so small and unrecognisable. "You haven't read out my name."

The girl with the clipboard, probably the team leader, starts to get flustered as various groups start to head out the door, back into the rain.

I think she's about to say I can come with her, even though I can see she already has five, but then I see a hand raise out of the corner of my eye.

The hand belongs to a very different looking boy to what I was expecting. He looks completely different to the other volunteers. He's dressed in all black, he has uncaring slump to his shoulders and he has carelessly tousled wet hair. And I'd say it wasn't his first choice to be here.

"Thank you," I say with a bit more surety, and I see a grin creep across his face. His cheeks pink as well as I notice clipboard girl goes silent.

I wouldn't have said he's an obviously-attractive boy, but if he held himself like the other boys, he could certainly be my type. He has a thick mop of brown hair that he's using to cover most of his face, and he has stunning, bright green eyes. I can just about see he's muscular underneath his all-black ensemble, a black hoodie covers a black Black Sabbath t-shirt, and he's wearing black skinny jeans with one hole in the knee and another rip on his thigh. But what affects me most is that he has seems to have an air of nervousness. But I see he's disguising it by channeling it into hostility and belligerence as he declines Steph's request to help her with her bags.

He stalks off in front of us, ruffling his fringe slightly to get it out of his eyes. The others follow on his heels, eager to get outside. It's still raining, but it's not as heavy as before.

"Can I borrow your jumper again?" Steph asks and I smile, handing it to her. It's still soaking but I suppose it's still a buffer from this North Carolina monsoon.

She smiles back gratefully, and I hold the door open for her after the boy in black refuses to hold it for anyone.

His truck is in the furthest space away from the building as he could probably manage. And from the smirk on his face I'm guessing he had done it on purpose. And then I know he did it on purpose when he doesn't offer to help anybody lift their cases into the bed of the truck, despite all of ours being extremely heavy. I lug mine in, making sure not to throw it, and then help Steph, Hamish and Amir with theirs. Jason lifts his himself with ease and then all four of them get in the back seat before I can ask.

I roll my eyes at my bad luck and I'm about to ask Steph to switch with me when I hear the engine of the truck start. I look at him in the driver's and he revs, rather impatiently, trying to get me into the car. I scowl at him as he looks away but I move towards the truck before he drives away and leaves me here.

"God's sake," I yank on the handle forcefully and pull myself up into the front seat.

Without checking if I'm buckled in, he reverses out the parking space and dashes out of the car park, making me fall around in the seat.

"What is your problem?" I ask involuntarily.

I continue to fall around the seat, scrambling for my seatbelt as he continues to drive like a maniac, turning onto the freeway. He doesn't say anything. He just smirks again, not looking. I already don't like this boy and my previous thoughts of liking the way he looked were now completely eclipsed by his rudeness and his arrogance, and I can't wait to get out of this car.

"Are you taking us to the shops?" Hamish asks.

He ignores him.

"He asked you a question," I state firmly having finally buckled in my seatbelt. "You know we were promised a welcoming committee, not this."

He looks across at me and his glare is menacing. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint. I was promised a free summer but looks like we're all stuck with each other now aren't we." He huffs. "You think I want to be here? Fuck's sake!" He crashes his hand into the side of the door and it makes me flinch. It looked like it should have hurt him, but he doesn't seem affected by it at all. He simply grips the steering wheel harder, his already-bruised knuckles turning white, and carries on as if nothing ever happened. I can't believe he's acting like this.

"A free summer?" I ask. "Don't your classes start same as us?" I can't help myself.

He looks across and glares at me again, as if my question had insulted him. He technically does answer me, but he does so by simply shaking his head.

The car is silent for another ten minutes before anyone says anything.

"Where are you guys all based anyway?" I look at him, shocked that he even cares.

"Based? You mean where are we from?" Hamish asks from the back.

"Whatever," he waves his hand noncommittally and then tightens it again on the steering wheel. His bruised knuckles pull white as he grips tighter, and I hope he doesn't explode again. I've never seen anyone act like this before.

The others in the back list off where they're from but I remain quiet. I'm not rewarding his question with an answer and I don't think he actually cares. I genuinely think he wants us out of his car and to be honest, I'm thinking the same thing. In fact I wouldn't be surprised if he just ditches us back at our dorms. The more I fume, the more I think I'd actually prefer that.

He doesn't press me about where I'm from, so I just look out the window at the fields passing by, going through a little tour in my head. He should be doing this, but I do it pretending I have James van der Beek's Dawson in my head, narrating where we're going.

In my research I know the town is basically split into two. Downtown Wilmington, which has all the places from Dawson's Creek and One Tree Hill and all the history, then the beach. There you have Wrightsville, which was one of the beautiful stretches of beach. The pier was iconic in films, including all the Nick Sparks books, and I was ticking off a list of things I wanted to see already.

After about twenty minutes of blissful silence, the boy finally turns onto campus and I can feel the relief washing over all of us as it meant we'd be getting out of the car. I must say, this guy wasn't really helping in my picture of American hospitality.

"Are you from here?" I ask. The question comes out of my mouth before I can stop it but thankfully he doesn't seem as pissed off this time that I've asked him a question. He's clearly bipolar or something, and certainly has rage issues.

"Originally from Charlotte." It's a short, curt answer but it's a start.

I didn't know if I should test him with another question, but I run out of time anyway when he pulls up at some kind of accommodation building.

"International Hall. There should be two of you getting out here," he says, yawning as he removes his hoodie. Jason and Hamish make to move, so Steph jumps out to let them get their stuff.

"What happened to you taking us to the shops?" I hear Hamish ask outside whilst grabbing his bag from the back.

"Fucking hell, calm your horses. We're dropping off the rest of their bags and then we'll be going." He sounds frustrated and it makes me question again why he's even doing this. Not of his own accord, that's for sure.

He gestures Hamish and Jason over to the entrance of the building, not helping with bags, and find myself rolling my eyes. Steph, Amir and I just watch them as the three of them grab something from the front desk then disappear off inside and into the building.

"Well, he's a barrel of laughs, isn't he?" Amir jokes. It's the first thing I've heard him say since Atlanta and I let out an exasperated sigh.

"He's a knob is what he is. He's being deliberately annoying," Steph says harshly. "Trust our bloody luck."

"I just think he doesn't want to be here, that's all." I shrug. I'm not defending his behaviour, as it was most definitely rude, but there's a reason he's acting out. There must be. And us being rude behind his back wouldn't help either.

"I can't believe we have to spend an entire afternoon with him."

I turn around in the seat and look at Steph. She still looks angry and even more deflated than I feel. And when she rolls her eyes and sits back in the seat, I turn and see him coming back, Jason and Hamish following slightly behind him.

"Now it's our turn," I hear Steph mutter.

Seconds later, the boy is back in the driver's seat and the guys in the back are squashed together again.

"Apartments now. Is that where all of you guys are?" He looks at me, Steph and Amir and we all nod to confirm.

He hands me three envelopes. "Hand these out," he demands. "I can't remember your names."

I tut as he smirks at me, and I see his smile grow as he approves of my negative reaction. What is wrong with him? He really was the complete opposite of what I'd expected a welcome party to be. I was waiting for cameras to pop out of nowhere, or better yet that he'd change his tune any minute.

I hand Steph and Amir their keys and keep a hold of mine, not taking it out for fear of dropping it as he lurches out of the space we'd been parked in. Everyone gasps and I scowl again out the window at how ridiculous he's being. His erratic driving is scaring all of us.

***

When we get round to the apartments, my stomach drops. Next door to them are the fraternity houses. I can already picture myself complaining inwardly about noise and raucous parties at 2am. Steph doesn't seem to have the same thoughts though. She's smiling wider and her eyes are bright with delight at the thought. I don't think Amir has noticed, as he's had his eyes in his lap since we set off from International Hall.

Again, he gets out, slamming the door, but this time he walks round to the trunk and grabs one of the bags. Oddly the bag he helps get out is mine, but Steph and Amir don't see a problem with that. As I jump down, I'm just worried he's doing it to taunt or pick on me because I'd been the only one to speak up when he was being rude. But he simply grins at me before putting it down in gently front of me.

"You're over there," he points from me to the apartment just behind me. "Erm, you're in the one behind," he points to Amir. "Then you're above the shop over there."

"Shop?" Steph asks, looking in the direction he's pointing.

"Yeah, you can top up your meal cards and get food in there." He shrugs. "You guys need help getting to your rooms?" He asks the two of them, digging his hands into his pockets. Both of them shake their heads.

Amir and Steph wander off towards their apartments, and I head up the stairs to mine, thinking he'd just get back in the car. But when I hear footsteps behind me, I realise he's followed me to the stairs. And shockingly, while I fish the key out of the envelope, he takes my bag up the stairs and waits patiently for me to come up and open the door.

I thank him by smiling before opening the door, and then let us in. Having a quick look around, but I find door B first and open it using the secondary key. Inside, I find a very small square room with an unmade bed in it. There's a desk as well, and a weird open wardrobe that I'll unpack my stuff into later. It's tiny, but it's my own room, so I won't be complaining. I have two windows and quite a good view, so when I come out of the room I'm smiling.

Mentally I start making a list of things I need to buy - sheets for one - and as I walk back into the living area, I find him sitting on the edge of the sofa, fiddling nervously with the hole on his knee.

"Sorry." I apologise even though I didn't need to. I'm half apologising for keeping him waiting, half for asking him annoying questions, but he answers me with a smile. It's a different one to earlier, filled with a little more warmth. His eyes look brighter too and I find myself thinking he has a beautiful smile.

He shrugs before pushing off the sofa and comes to stand in front of me. "S'okay," he grins wider at me.

We stand there for a few seconds before I feel my cheeks heat under his intense gaze, his olive green eyes not moving from my face. I have no idea why he's staring at me, and when I finally feel uncomfortable enough to tell him to stop staring, he clears his throat before I can say anything.

"I'm sorry too," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets again, looking down at his boots. "I didn't need to be rude back there."

It's my turn to shrug, giving him a small smile. "You going to be nicer then?" I raise my eyebrows and he narrows his eyes. But for some reason I seem to know he's joking.

"Maybe," he says cockily as he saunters two steps towards me, his eyes travelling over me, as if he's checking me out. My cheeks heat and hope he doesn't see.

He extends his hand. "Jasper."

Somehow his name suits him, and I smile as I put my hand in his.

"Libby."

His hand is rough and calloused, but I notice a small electrical sensation running up my spine, and it makes the hair on my arms stand on end.

He nods, leaving his hand in mine for a few seconds longer than necessary and I feel his eyes travel over me again as he leans his head close to mine.

"I'll be downstairs, Libby. Take your time," he whispers in my ear.

My breath catches in my throat as his lips touch my ear slightly, but thankfully he's out the door before he can see me go bright red.

***

Jasper sticks to his promise for the most part.

He allows the radio to be on, quietly, and he engages us in some conversation in the car, but he shuts down again when we get to Walmart. He drops us off at the front and tells us he'll look out for us rather than coming in with us, but to be honest I didn't want him there anyway. He was making me feel uncomfortable in a whole other way now that we had our weird exchange in my apartment.

I could feel his eyes on me while I was looking out the window, and I could still feel his hand on mine, the sensation of it, and it was making me feel really strange. I don't know him, so I don't know why I'm feeling like this, and it's ridiculous. And as he drives away from us and parks up, I shake my head out of the thought of it. I'll never see him again after tomorrow, and my momentary infatuation with him will be just that. Momentary.

I did appreciate him apologising to me though, even if he just did so to me. I wasn't expecting him to for one thing, but it meant something to me that he knew he had to, and that he'd seen the error in his behaviour. He wasn't as bad as he originally seemed.

Steph and I stick together in Walmart, armed with a trolley each. The boys head off in another direction as we head for homeware; sheets, blankets and better pillows. I end up getting too much, I know I do, but I know it's supposed to last me all year. I get three sets of bedding, two pillows and a large comforter, which I've been told is an American version of a duvet. Then, as we head through the food aisles, I pick up some bits, but I know we have our meal cards, so we don't need too much food. I do buy my weight in teabags though. I've been gasping for a cup of tea for hours.

I know the reputation of America though. Everything is delicious and comes in large sizes, even the normal bottles of water are massive. And when I come away after paying for my initial shop, I'm down $140 already. I type the amount into my phone to note down later, but I push it to the back of my mind as we sit and wait for the boys near the entrance. I didn't want to find Jasper before we had to. He made me nervous... and I still wasn't sure if it was a good kind of nervous yet.

"Oi! Girls!" I recognise Jason's call from our left, and I nudge Steph awake. She's taken one of the pillows from my basket and had promptly nodded off, jet lag already hitting her hard. She jerks up as I snatch my pillow and the boys laugh as they come towards us.

"I can't bloody wait till we don't have to see him again," Hamish says to Jason when I spot Jasper coming back towards us again. He's got a pair of sunglasses on now, and I find myself thinking he looks even more attractive with them on than he did before. I flush at my thoughts and hope no one notices my cheeks go red. What is wrong with me?

He pulls up and we each put our shopping bags in the bed of the truck. We try to separate them, but I keep my bag with bedding in with me in the front seat, just in case. The boys looked like they were light on the bedding side of things, so I expected one may try to pinch one of Steph's bags.

I smile at the thought and Jasper seems to notice as he pulls away. "What's funny?"

I look at him, not realising he'd been watching me. "Nothing." I shrug as I look away.

He doesn't press me for an answer, and it's not even embarrassing, but I find my cheeks going red again at the thought anyway. I feel like he's singling me out on purpose again, and I had no idea why. I can feel Steph's eyes boring into the back of my head but I ignore everyone in the car as I lean my elbow on the door and watch the world breeze past us.

***

The rest of the journey back goes by painfully slowly as we get stuck in traffic, and I'm utterly exhausted by the time Jasper pulls into the little car park in front of my apartment.

He insisted on dropping us separately, although Hamish and Jason just jumped ship immediately, and he'd already dropped Amir and Steph closer to their apartments and actually helped with their bags. It proved that he was trying, despite not necessarily needing to, and it makes me smile. But I now felt an immense amount of pressure on my shoulders as he pulls to a stop outside my apartment building.

I didn't want him to help me with my bags. If he comes up, I could do something stupid, or he could do something, and the thought was sending nervous pangs through my chest, making my hands and knees shake nervously.

Unfortunately, being the nervous nelly that I am, I don't throw up any aversions to him coming up, despite me screaming at him not to in my mind. He carries six of the eight bags I have up the stairs with ease, and again waits patiently for me to open the door before entering and dropping it onto the sofa on the other side of the room.

"You didn't have to come up," I say out loud. I'd psyched myself up to say it in my head about eight times, making sure it didn't come out all high and squeaky.

"It's fine," he offers. "I saved you four trips." He laughs awkwardly and rolls up his hoodie sleeves.

I smile. "I would have made it in less than four," I tut and roll my eyes.

I feel awkward. And he looks awkward. He's hanging around, and I have no idea why he's hanging around and what he wants me to do. I don't want to say or do anything that could annoy him, and that could be anything, so I stick to what my instincts are telling me to do, and that is to keep quiet. Or at least that's what I thought I was doing.

It's only when he gets closer to me do I realise that my legs are doing the opposite of what I want them to and I'm moving towards him. Or he's moving closer to me.

And when I'm less than a foot away, my mind takes over and I don't understand why I did what I did next.