Doesn’t take long to figure out where Blake and his boys live. Their frat house is listed on the internet.
I’m still in my sweats and too-tight shirt, heading for the elevator, when a couple of girls pass me. They both smile and say hello, followed by giggles.
“Did you see the size of it?” one says.
I look down at my crotch. Yeah, this is not a modest look. The gray sweats are practically presenting my dick to the world.
I lift my chin. Maybe it’s a good thing, considering where I’m going. This super chicken has been transformed. Blake needs to know he shouldn’t mess with me.
I make my way down to the lobby, passing several more students. Almost everyone smiles and says “hi” or “wassup?” One guy even high-fives me. “How’s it hangin’, bro?” he says.
Okay. I get that I look and feel different, but I wasn’t expecting this. Girls checking me out? Guys practically saluting me? These are people I’ve never met.
I go outside, and it’s a warm, sunny afternoon. The birds are chirping. The trees and grass seem greener than usual. And wow, everything is so loud.
I start walking toward the frat house, which is all the way on the other side of campus, and I spot a cute girl sitting on the lawn beside the dorms. She and a bunch of her friends are in a circle, tossing around a little rope. There’s a brown puppy with white spots trying to catch it.
One of the other girls glimpses my way and stares like she’s seen a ghost. Or a giant doughnut she wants to eat? Whatever. She looks downright carnivorous.
I look away and keep on going.
Moments later, I hear a scream, “Baxter! No! Get back here!”
When I look over my shoulder, that puppy is running straight for the street. A bus is coming from the other direction, and the driver won’t see the furball between all the parked cars lining the curb.
You know how people say that when there’s a life-or-death situation, time slows to a crawl? I used to think that too. Seconds passing like minutes. The adrenaline flooding your brain, absorbing all the sights, smells, and movements around you. For one short second you’re pulling energy from an unknown place to heighten your senses. People have been known to lift cars or run into burning buildings, coming out completely unharmed by flames.
But me? Now? I blink, and there I am, standing in front of that bus, holding up the front end.
What the? I look to my right as the woman chasing the puppy stops and stares. The dog is all the way across the street now, running toward the lawn in front of the cafeteria.
I glance up to see the face of the bus driver gripping the steering wheel, her mouth gaping.
Oh shit. I carefully set the bus down and step out of the way. The traction of the front tires immediately kicks in, and the bus keeps going.
Once it passes, I notice the woman still standing on the other side of the street, staring at me.
I have no clue what just happened or how I did that. I mean, yeah, I know what River said I did last night—blasting out of the water and knocking those guys to the ground—but I figured it was her imagination. It was dark out. She was in shock.
And she was right. I just lifted a fucking bus. I didn’t decide to do it. I didn’t even think about it. I just…did it.
I’m going to pass out. Or maybe not. I’m breathing just fine. My lungs are filled with fresh clean air. I’m not hyperventilating. But I always hyperventilate and pass out when I stress.
I’m suddenly less concerned about Blake and his bros. I’ll deal with them later. Right now, I need to figure out what happened to me. I’m not entirely in control of my body.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I head straight to River’s sorority house with one thing on my mind. I need to go over what she remembers again. Every detail. Every sound. Every turn the SUV took. I want to return to the scene of the crime so I can figure out what really went down because this situation is way crazier than I thought. And that shock I was in when I woke up is over.
I’m in a new shock now.
Who wakes up ripped like this? Not only that, I apparently go into savior mode when I see tiny furry creatures in distress. I’m guessing about five or six people just saw that display, which means I’m going to have a tough time keeping this quiet.
I march up the steps of River’s sorority house and ring the doorbell. I hear people inside laughing.
The door opens, and it’s Keni, standing in cut-off short-shorts and a red tank top. No bra. My throat goes dry.