“The only class I got higher than a C in was P.E.”
“That was my most dreaded one. The rope climbing they made us do in middle school was the worst.”
“Really? I wish they would have done that at my school. I would’ve aced it.” He smiles at me, something so comfortable about the action, like we’re pals, it brings me back to why we’re actually here.
“I have to go,” I blurt out, standing and packing all my stuff away.
“Oh, okay,” he says, startled at my abruptness. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you.”
“No, you didn’t. I just, um...” Why is my social awkwardness rearing up its ugly head now? I’ve been getting along great with Jake, to the point where it’s almost suspicious. It’s like my brain has a driving need to self-sabotage. “It’s my turn to make dinner tonight,” I lie. “I have to get home and prepare.” Tonight is actually the one night a week Dad teaches a late class, so yes, I’m responsible for my own meal, but there’s no time crunch. But now that I’m thinking about being awkward, I’m sure to mess something up somehow. Better to get out while I’m ahead.
“What’re you making?”
“What?”
“For dinner. What’re you having?”
“Um... goulash.” Goulash? Why would I say that? I’m not even sure what’s in it.
His brows raise. “Are you Hungarian or something?”
“Yes... okay, bye,” I rush to say, getting out of there before I blurt out something even more idiotic. I knew things would turn weird if I stayed longer.
People rarely want to continue a conversation with me, especially a guy, so I keep getting thrown off by him actually seeming interested in me, asking me questions... it’s disconcerting. If I’m not thinking about it I’m fine, but once I focus on the fact I’m talking to a guy, especially a handsome guy - and let me say that Samantha’s description of merely hot doesn’t do him justice - my brain gets in the way of my mouth. Something about attractive people flusters me. That’s why I’m nervous at the idea of talking to Michael. Not that he’s anywhere near the same level as Jake, if I’m being honest with myself, but the premise is still the same.
I’ll go home tonight and practice in the mirror some more until I get it down, until the words roll off my tongue and I’m not overthinking it anymore.
And after that, I’ll see what Jake has in store for me next.
5
Jake
“What did you get for question four?” Logan asks, a furrow between his brows as he stares at the quiz Dr. Chan returned earlier. “The one about global stratification.”
Around us in the student center, a group shrieks in laughter as a guy picks up a girl and tosses her over his shoulder. Freshmen from the look of it.
“Colonization,” Rachel and I say in unison. She looks over at me, surprise on her face.
“What? I can’t get an answer right?”
She holds her hands up in defense. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Damn, I put colonialism. Okay, what about seven?” Logan asks. “I had no clue what it was talking about.”
Rachel glances down at her quiz and bites her lip. “I don’t know, I got that one wrong too.”
“It was intergenerational social mobility.”
Now they both stare at me in astonishment. “What grade did you get?” She snatches the sheet out of my hand and holds it between her and Logan on the other side of the table. “A ninety-four? What the hell, Jake? Did you cheat?”
“You should’ve shared the answers with me, man,” Logan says. “Don’t hold back next time.”
I grab the paper back, smoothing out the now wrinkled edges. “Fuck you both. I didn’t cheat. Eden helped me study. She took this class last year.”
“Who’s Eden?” The furrow is still in Logan’s brow, giving him a Neanderthal-like quality.
“His new biology tutor,” Rachel answers, observing me carefully. “So that’s working out then? You’re not failing Bio anymore?”
“She’s great. Like the smartest person I’ve ever met. I haven’t got back my test from last week yet, but I know I did a hell of a lot better than the last one.”
She props her chin on one hand, a smile playing about her lips. “Do you like her?”
What? Where’d she get that from? “She’s my tutor.”
I shift my eyes. I never told them about our deal. Not that it’s anything to be ashamed of, but it’s definitely unconventional. They just assume I’m paying her, and I haven’t corrected that assumption.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“She likes this other guy. Some brainiac like her.”
“Are you jealous?”
“Why are you always trying to put more meaning behind my words? I know you’re a Psych major and all, but sometimes what a person says is what they actually mean.”
“Yeah,” she says, setting down her quiz, “but there are all these other things that are going on besides the actual words themselves. The way you say it, the nonverbal cues you’re giving off, past context.”
“What the hell kind of past context do I have to make you think I’ve got a thing for her?”
“Guys,” Logan interrupts, “as much fun as it is listening to the two of you argue, I have to get going. Practice starts in an hour.”
“Sorry, baby.” She settles a hand on his arm. “And sorry, Jake. I didn’t know you’d get so worked up over this. Very interesting,” she says slyly.
I roll my eyes at her. With anyone else, I’d be mad, but I know she has my back when I actually need it.
Logan rises from the table and kisses the top of his girlfriend’s head. “I’ll be home around eight, okay?”
“See you later,” she smiles, blowing him a kiss. She then turns to me and asks, “So when can we meet her?”
“You’re usually trying to warn me off from whatever girl I mention. Why the change of heart?”
“Because this one is smart. I need another girl to hang out with I can have an actual conversation with.”
“That’s what your own friends are for.”
“Well, they all have boyfriends already. You need someone Logan and I can double date with.”
“So whoever I date has to meet your standards?”
“Exactly,” she smirks. “I’ve known you, what, three years now? And you’ve never had a good, solid girl hang around. We have the whole rest of the school year left before we graduate. Don’t you want to find someone before then?”
“What is it about people in couples that are always trying to pair everyone else off?” I ask, ignoring her question.
“So about setting up a time we can meet her-”
“Rachel!” It comes out more harshly than I intended, but it doesn’t seem to phase her at all. “It’s not happening, okay? She likes 4.0 scholars, I sleep with sorority girls. That’s the natural order of things. Stop looking for connections where they don’t exist.”