that saying? Faith chewed at her lower lip in thought. A person is only limited to what they think they can do.
Chapter 1
The college was bustling with students rushing to find their classrooms. Faith was pretty certain she had never been as nervous as she was at that moment. She made her way across the main lobby and headed for student registration.
The young man behind the booth announcing itself as student information gave her a broad toothy smile as she approached. He was so full of energy he reminded her of an out-of-uniform male cheerleader.
"Your name please, and are you in the business or arts department?" he asked, flipping through his sheets to find her name.
"Faith Veates and I believe trades. Welding," she replied, leaning forward to see if she could assist in finding her name on the papers.
He looked up at her, the generic toothy grin fading slightly. "Welding?"
"Yup," she shrugged and gave a sheepish smile. She motioned to the oxyfuel cutting manual she had just gotten at the bookstore.
He gave a half laugh, turned to the correct sheet and found her name. "Well, what do you know, here you are." He pointed to the long corridor behind him. "Head all the way to the back, it's the final room on the right. Room 549A. Good luck."
"Thanks." She gave him a final nod and headed off down the seemingly endless corridor to her classroom.
Walking in the direction she’d been instructed to go, she worried about fitting in. Being the only female in an all-male class was rather intimidating. The deeper she walked into the college, the types of student changed. She strolled past the business students whose wardrobes consisted of suits and business casual attire. Next to come were the liberal arts students wearing various styles of trendy clothing, very similar to what she was currently wearing.
She looked down at herself. She had on a pair of designer jeans and a red button-down blouse that hugged her curvy frame. The spiked heels of her black leather heeled boots clinked as she walked, drawing some attention. She had been told when she had registered the first day that it all going to be classroom work for the first week or so, so she figured her attire would be appropriate, at least for now.
Drawing closer to her classroom, the amount of females she saw dwindled to zero. All she now saw were men of varying ages with one thing in common... Beat-up blue jeans, scuffed steel-toed boots and t-shirts that by all rights should have been thrown away months ago, at least in her opinion.
She kept her head down and quickened her pace until she reached her destination.
"Room 549A. Finally," she muttered under her breath as she strolled inside.
There had been a symphony of male voices chattering as she walked into the room. Nearly all the voices immediately quieted as twenty sets of eyes turned to look at the newcomer. They seemed more curious than anything else as they watched her. While there were a few men who appeared to be over the age of thirty, the majority looked to be directly out of high school.
As she looked around the room she noticed all the seats full, with the exception of one. Front row center. So much for blending into the background , she thought, hurrying over to the chair and sliding behind the desk.
Several of the guys within her vicinity nodded or said their hellos, but for the most part all she received were blank stares as if she were some sort of rare animal they’d never seen in real life until just then. Taking a deep breath she opened up her backpack and pulled out a ringed notebook and a couple of pens. If she kept herself busy then perhaps she could ignore the fact she was the momentary attraction.
The talking around her finally began again, but this time the voices were more hushed. She looked over at the man to her left, a blond-haired man she would guess to be about her age, perhaps twenty-one or twenty-two. He caught her eye and smiled.
"Hey there, I'm Mike." He gave
Chapter 1
The college was bustling with students rushing to find their classrooms. Faith was pretty certain she had never been as nervous as she was at that moment. She made her way across the main lobby and headed for student registration.
The young man behind the booth announcing itself as student information gave her a broad toothy smile as she approached. He was so full of energy he reminded her of an out-of-uniform male cheerleader.
"Your name please, and are you in the business or arts department?" he asked, flipping through his sheets to find her name.
"Faith Veates and I believe trades. Welding," she replied, leaning forward to see if she could assist in finding her name on the papers.
He looked up at her, the generic toothy grin fading slightly. "Welding?"
"Yup," she shrugged and gave a sheepish smile. She motioned to the oxyfuel cutting manual she had just gotten at the bookstore.
He gave a half laugh, turned to the correct sheet and found her name. "Well, what do you know, here you are." He pointed to the long corridor behind him. "Head all the way to the back, it's the final room on the right. Room 549A. Good luck."
"Thanks." She gave him a final nod and headed off down the seemingly endless corridor to her classroom.
Walking in the direction she’d been instructed to go, she worried about fitting in. Being the only female in an all-male class was rather intimidating. The deeper she walked into the college, the types of student changed. She strolled past the business students whose wardrobes consisted of suits and business casual attire. Next to come were the liberal arts students wearing various styles of trendy clothing, very similar to what she was currently wearing.
She looked down at herself. She had on a pair of designer jeans and a red button-down blouse that hugged her curvy frame. The spiked heels of her black leather heeled boots clinked as she walked, drawing some attention. She had been told when she had registered the first day that it all going to be classroom work for the first week or so, so she figured her attire would be appropriate, at least for now.
Drawing closer to her classroom, the amount of females she saw dwindled to zero. All she now saw were men of varying ages with one thing in common... Beat-up blue jeans, scuffed steel-toed boots and t-shirts that by all rights should have been thrown away months ago, at least in her opinion.
She kept her head down and quickened her pace until she reached her destination.
"Room 549A. Finally," she muttered under her breath as she strolled inside.
There had been a symphony of male voices chattering as she walked into the room. Nearly all the voices immediately quieted as twenty sets of eyes turned to look at the newcomer. They seemed more curious than anything else as they watched her. While there were a few men who appeared to be over the age of thirty, the majority looked to be directly out of high school.
As she looked around the room she noticed all the seats full, with the exception of one. Front row center. So much for blending into the background , she thought, hurrying over to the chair and sliding behind the desk.
Several of the guys within her vicinity nodded or said their hellos, but for the most part all she received were blank stares as if she were some sort of rare animal they’d never seen in real life until just then. Taking a deep breath she opened up her backpack and pulled out a ringed notebook and a couple of pens. If she kept herself busy then perhaps she could ignore the fact she was the momentary attraction.
The talking around her finally began again, but this time the voices were more hushed. She looked over at the man to her left, a blond-haired man she would guess to be about her age, perhaps twenty-one or twenty-two. He caught her eye and smiled.
"Hey there, I'm Mike." He gave
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