"My friends didn't want to eat with me."

He frowned again, a wrinkle creasing his flawless forehead. "I'm glad I found you then."

"Better you crashing my lunch than the other guy who caught me pulling my wedgie." I smirked at the perfect male specimen in front of me and he grinned.

"Your boyfriend won't get mad, right?"

My eyes narrowed in his direction, wondering if he was trying to fish for information like I had been earlier. It seemed really strange to me that out of the hundreds of women here, with prettier faces, and wearing a lot less clothes, he'd chosen me to harass. Pushing the thought to the back of my head, I decided I'd rather focus on the fact that he did, instead of why he had.

"Nah, but my husband will." I said, with a straight look on my face.

Green eyes immediately drifted to my left hand, which was resting on the table. He shook his head as he let his eyes drift back to my face slowly. "You got me, little gold digger." Tristan leaned forward in his seat again, casting a quick glance around.

"Are you... hiding from someone?" I pointed at his head, and then his hoodie.

"Not really."

My eyebrow rose on its own. "Are you balding?"

I realized that Tristan smiled more than I did, and I was known for constantly grinning, especially when I did something stupid or when it was frowned upon.

"No."

"You have a really bad haircut, don't you?"

"No, I have great hair, thank you."

I rolled my eyes and smiled at him. "I've got it, your head is as big as your ego, and your cap is hiding your Jack in the Box sized noggin."

He sighed and looked from side to side again. "I do not," he said with an annoyed and exasperated tone, but the crooked smile on his face said otherwise. Long fingers went up to trace the seam of his cap before he yanked it off his head, his grass colored eyes looking right at me.

The oddest mixture of auburn and gold colored his hair. Tristan ran a hand through his sweaty strandsou807r, the ends went everywhere automatically like he'd been zapped by an electrical current. Of course, he couldn't have normal colored hair like every other human being on planet Earth.

"My hair's really..." he started to say quietly, his voice laced with nervousness.

"Cool," I added with a laugh. I couldn't remember the last time I used the word cool.

"I was going to say recognizable, but I like cool more."

His eyebrows were almost the same color as his hair, I noticed, which just made him cuter. "So you're trying to be anonymous then?"

"Exactly."

"Pussy," came out of my mouth before my brain even registered the word. My verbal filter had officially left the building once again.

Tristan started laughing, and then right in the middle of it, snorted like a pig. I was sure my eyes went wide at the sound that came out of such a seemingly perfect being, so human and unexpected. I started laughing like an idiot and then snorted too, like a full-blown hog for freaking sake. We both laughed so hard at each other for our mirrored noises, that he snorted again, this time louder and I fucking followed as well.

Porn con had officially become a farm.

I'd always kind of hated the fact that I snorted when I laughed. When I was little, kids would call me Miss Piggy for it and even though I liked her because she was kind of a bitch, it still hurt. My mom used to hold me in her lap when I'd come home from school and whisper, "Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind." Even as an adult, Dr. Seuss always seemed to connect with me on a level that no one else ever could. It took me a long time to fully understand what she meant by the words but by the time I finally got it, it was so deeply ingrained in my being I could never forget. So yeah, I hated that I snorted like a pig but oh well. It could have been worse— I could be one of those people who farted when they laughed really hard.