The kid didn’t look up. He was a shade or two darker than Shane, with a scruff of kinky brown hair and a broad nose. His bone structure was amazing—high cheekbones, sharp, strong jaw. Shane couldn’t tell for sure, since he was sitting down, but he seemed short. Maybe five foot eight. He wore a white wife beater and a heavy gold chain. Black track pants and a tat on his shoulder? He was trying way too hard to look tough. “That’s all for today.” Professor Boehner flicked off the overhead and wrapped up the Intro to Film class. “Make sure you have those papers in by Monday. We’ll move onto archetypes next week.” The class burst into a round of applause, the over-excited freshmen falling all over themselves to get to the front of the room and swoon over the professor. Shane cleared his stuff off the desk. He hadn’t taken any notes. As one of Boehner’s teaching assistants, he’d sat through Intro to Film three times already. “Mr Roberts?” Boehner called over the heads of his adoring throng.
