Libby heard the clicking of her teacher, Mrs. Vanderhyde’s, shoes coming down the hall and the class instantly quieted. The formidable woman entered the room seconds later followed by a student—the student. The one everyone was talking about.
Libby couldn’t help but stare at him. He had a slender build and light blond hair—so light it looked practically white, and Libby briefly wondered if he bleached it. It was worn shaggy, the bangs grown past his ears. He was certainly everything Molly said he was. While not overtly handsome, there was something that made you want to stare at him and not look away. He also seemed incredibly uncomfortable as he kept his eyes intently on the floor in front of him, his hand tugging nervously on the shirt sleeve of his left arm.
“Class, this is Vincent Nichols,” Mrs. Vanderhyde announced, giving everyone a stern look. “This is his first day, and I hope you’ll make him feel more than welcome.” She pointed to an empty seat in the middle of the room. “Vincent, you can sit there.”
He sat down where instructed and the teacher began roll call. The entire class was gawking at him. The girls especially were sending flirtatious smiles his way that he didn’t seem to notice. Libby realized she was still watching him herself. She was about to look away when Vincent turned his head, his gaze locking immediately on hers. Libby couldn’t stop staring then even if she wanted to. Now that she could see his eyes clearly, she noticed they were the color of steel—cold and unrelenting.