"Everyone I need your design ideas by the end of the week! As soon as you get me them the sooner I can approve and you can start. Remember you will have a little over 6 months to complete your final project. It is worth 70% of your grade."

The class murmured at the new information. 70% was insane and just added to the pressure of making the best designs ever. I gazed around the room at all the talented designers the class had, anxiety washing over me. I was nowhere near as good as half the people here.

"You can either hand them in or send me them over email. You have until Friday." The professor dismissed us. Great I now only have 4 days to come up with an idea and send it in. No pressure.

"What was I thinking taking this class." One of my friends, Elisa, in the class muttered. I whole heartedly agreed with her. As much as I hated to hate on this class it was one of my favorites. I loved designing and this was the perfect place to do it.

Gathering our stuff we slowly left the classroom, everyone around us buzzing about their own projects. We've known about this project since the beginning of the year but apparently everyone, including me, hadn't put much thought in to until now. It's like it snuck up on us.

"Do you know what you are doing?" I asked Elisa.

"I think I'm going to do a couple of things. Maybe some rompers, swimsuits, and springy dresses." Her tone suggested she had no clue what she was going to do either. "How about you?"

"I honestly have no clue." I spent a good two hours looking up ideas the other night on what I wanted my final project to be but nothing caught my eye. Through out the year we've done little projects, designing pieces of clothing, but I didn't feel like doing one of those again. A lot of the students were probably going to include techniques and styles we've already done. Kind of like what Elisa was doing.

The thing was at the end of the year Mrs. Anderson will pick the best design and submit it in to a company to get a chance for that person to intern for that company. It was literally a dream come true for any fashion designer to intern for a big company right after college. It was everything I've worked for over the past four years.

So yeah no pressure at all.

"You'll figure something out. You always do." Elisa sent me an encouraging smile. I wanted to believe that but with the deadline looming my nerves were getting the best of me. "Want to get something to eat later?"

"Sure." It was only 2 but my classes were done for the day and I didn't have a shift tonight at the bar. Maybe I'll try and find some inspiration while I had the time.

"Text you after my last class." Waving bye we both branched off.

I aimlessly walked around campus trying to come up with ideas as I walked. I was so lost in my own head I didn't notice the group of guys off to the side. It wasn't until I heard someone yell that I was jerked out of my thoughts.

"Watch out!"

I heard it a second too late as I turned my head. Suddenly something hit the side of my cheek, hard enough to make me stumble and let out a cry. I was so caught off guard I fell down to my knees, the hard concrete scraping the skin through the holes of my jeans.

"Shit." I heard someone curse. The side of my face pounded from where I guess the football hit. The ball managed to hit me directly in the cheek and sent a zing all the way up the side of my face.

I sat there on the ground, holding my cheek as I groaned in pain. I wasn't expecting to get hit in the face with a football that's for sure, and damn did it hurt like a bitch. For now the pain over rode my embarrassment.

"Are you okay?" A deep voice asked from above me. Opening my eyes I found a pair of feet in front of me as the person squatted down. Tilting me head up I met the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes that were filled with concern.

Unconsciously my eyes roamed the guys face. Light brown hair was ruffled on top of his head, making it seem like he's run his fingers through it recently. It was slightly shaggy like he needed to cut it. He had high cheek bones and a jawline that I knew was sharp enough to cut your finger if you ran it across it. He was clean shaven but I could see a 5 o'clock shadow starting to form.

Although he had a nice looking face I could tell it wasn't perfection. His nose was slightly big and crooked from being broken I assume. Being this close I could see a few little scars near his eyebrow, lip and cheek. But none of that took away from how handsome the guy in front of me was. He was gorgeous.

If my face wasn't already red from being hit it would be now. I've never in my 20 years of life been this close to a guy as hot as this one. Quite sad I know.

"Are you okay?" The guy repeated, his words breaking me out of my staring.

"Uh." I couldn't seem to find words. Mia speak damn it! "Yeah I'm okay." At the moment I actually wasn't quite sure about that. My face throbbed and my knees burned.

"Can I see?" He asked gently, gesturing to my face. I bit my bottom lip and nodded, pulling my hand away from my cheek. A gasp escaped my lips when the guy gently grabbed my chin and tilted my head to the side, exposing more of my cheek. He let out a hiss through his teeth.

"We are going to need to ice that." By the look on his face I knew my cheek was bright red and maybe even swollen. "Here." He extended his hands for me to grab. It took a second for my brain to comprehend what he meant, leaving me kneeling there like an idiot staring at him. The corner of his lip tilted up as he waited for me.

Mentally slapping myself for acting like an weirdo I grabbed his hands in mine. His hands were rough and calloused but they were gentle as he lifted me off the ground. With my knees now off the ground the burn intensified. I hissed at the feeling.

"What's wrong?" His eyes looked me up and down before catching onto my knees. I followed his gaze and saw my knees were bleeding pretty good. They probably wouldn't have been as bad if I didn't have holes in the knees. Damn fashion!

"Lets get you cleaned up." It took me a minute to realized he meant he was coming along, and by time I realized it he was already bending down to grab my bag throwing it over his shoulder.

I wasn't sure how to respond. Do I accept his offer to get cleaned up or go back to my own dorm beyond embarrassed and clean up myself?

A hand on my back made me look back at the guy. He patiently waited for me to start walking beside him. My decision already made.

"I'll see you guys later." The guy called out. My eyes found the group of guys he was talking to and I instantly groaned seeing them all staring at me. God could I be anymore humiliating.

"What is it?" He questioned, gazing back down at me in confusion.

"I just literally embarrassed myself in front of a group of 20 guys." I groaned covering my face.

"Don't worry about it. This is all my fault anyways." He said while steering me down a different pathway. I know he was trying to be nice but it was still embarrassing.

As we walked I noticed just how tall the guy was. He easily towered over my 5'5 frame. I wasn't the shortest person but he had to be at least 6'1 or 6'2. I easily had to tilt my head back to see his face.

"Just through here." He murmured, drawing my attention to the set of doors in front of us. Just like everything else in the last few minutes, it took a second to realize we were heading into the football stadium.

Maybe I did get a concussion from the ball cause it was taking me seconds longer to comprehend what was going on around me. I was almost in a haze as he lead me through the building to another door. Or maybe it was the fact that he was still pressed into my side and his hand was on my lower back.

"Here we go." We came into an empty room that was filled with tables with padding on them. It almost looked like an examination room at a doctors.

With such gentleness I didn't expect he lead me towards one of the tables, dropping my bag to the ground. When he moved away to stand in front of me I felt a bit nervous at his huge frame. I was seriously in an empty room with some guy I didn't know. Yeah this doesn't scream murder does it.

"I'm just going to grab some ice and some bandaids." He spoke softly but his voice echoed through the empty room. When he stepped away I let out a breath. He was standing so close I smelt his cologne and it was doing things to my head. Yep, I'm positive I have some sort of brain injury.

While he went to the other side of the room I gently hoisted myself onto the table. My feet dangled over the side as I waited for him to come back. When he did he brought over a chair as well.

"I'm sorry for hitting you. I didn't mean to." He said, his tone sounding genuinely sorry.

"It's not your fault, I should have been paying attention." He couldn't take all the blame. I should have watched where I was going. "And maybe you need to practice on your throwing a bit." I joked to break the tension.

"I think so." He chuckled. "Here hold this to your cheek." He handed me cold pack wrapped in a towel. I winced as I pushed it against my cheek.

"Didn't realize a football to the face would hurt so bad."

"It can sting." I watched dazed as he sent me a smile. He looked down at my bloodied knees. "Lets get this cleaned up."