DRENCHED clothes droop from our shower rod like unwanted houseplants, the water pooling beside my feet and soaking my toes through my socks.
Two nights ago, the dryer in our apartment decided to retire early, leaving Shannon and me to resort to this unsightly temporary solution. But sadly, the novelty of our makeshift clothesline is quickly wearing thin.
And now, all I want is to take a shower without tossing my sopping-wet T-shirts on the cold tile floor.
As I mull over my new morning routine, my phone chimes incessantly from the bedside table. The culprit? My big brother, Mica.
ACE
Apple Pay – $500
Rolling my eyes, I immediately shoot the money back. He’s been trying to fund a new dryer since ours quit on us, but accepting his money just feels wrong. I’d rather not exploit his generosity any more than I already have. I mean, he already covers more than my fair share of the apartment’s rent.
Before I can contemplate further, Mica’s name flashes on my screen once more. This time, he’s chosen a more direct approach—a phone call.
“Stop sending back the money, Lili.” My brother’s demanding voice elicits another eye roll.
“Stop giving me money,” I insist. “I’m just gonna start saving up for a new dryer. In the meantime, we can just hang our clothes up or go to the laundromat.”
“That’s unacceptable.”
“What?” I laugh incredulously. “What do you mean ‘unacceptable’?”
“What if I need to do laundry when I visit next month? I can’t just twiddle my thumbs waiting for my clothes to air dry.”
His words jolt me, and a knot forms in my stomach. “Wait, are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
“You’re really coming to visit?” The corners of my mouth lift into an automatic smile.
“How does three weeks from Saturday sound?”
“Um, incredible!” I nearly shriek, unable to contain my excitement. “Wait, you didn’t tell Mom and Dad yet, did you?”
“Not yet.” A hesitation lingers in his voice, stretching the silence a second too long. “Why?”
I groan, foreseeing the familial tsunami his visit might trigger. “You know Mom’s gonna want to come, too.”
“Are you suggesting we don’t tell them?”
“I mean, we’ll tell them . . . but maybe just at the last minute.” I can’t help the sly grin that pulls at my lips. “You know, so Mom can’t possibly book a flight in time.”
“Lili the liar! I can’t believe my ears.”
“Come on, Ace. It’s been ages since I last saw you, and you know how they can be.”
“I’m just messing with you. Of course I want to spend the weekend just with us,” he assures me, his voice softening. “I need my little-sis bonding time.”
“Then we’re in agreement.” My grin stretches wide. “We’ll just tell them it was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”
“Fine by me.”
Usually, my brother has his own room when he comes to visit me at Dayton. We stay up all night eating junk food and watching our old favorite movies. With Shannon around, I guess that changes things.
“Now that I finally have a roommate, you’re gonna have to sleep on the couch.”
“Also fine by me. I’m just glad you actually listened to me for once,” he teases. “How is that going, by the way?”
“It’s actually great,” I confess, voice muffled as if I’m admitting to a crime. “Shannon is an awesome roommate.”
“Well, I’m glad it worked out,” he says gently. “I won’t even say ‘I told you so.’”
“Good.” I chuckle. “Oh, and you have to promise me you won’t flirt with Shannon when you’re here.”
Shannon’s the quintessential girl my brother would go for—tall, confident, effortlessly pretty, and a cheerleader to boot. I couldn’t tell you why, but it’s like all straight football players are biologically wired to want them.
“That depends . . . what does she look like?” “She’s beautiful, so don’t even try it,” I warn.
“Oh, come on, Lili.” He draws out my name. “Isn’t she like . . . your age?”
“Yeah, and you’re only twenty-six,” I remind him. “Dating a college junior wouldn’t exactly make you a cradle robber.”
“I mean, I guess. But, like, you’re my baby sister. It’s weird as hell to even think about.”
“Good, then it won’t be a problem.”
He snorts, the indignation clear in his voice. “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”
“You’d better,” I fire back. “Also, don’t think I didn’t see that TMZ post this morning. Are you actually dating that Instagram model?”
“No, I wouldn’t say that we’re dating,” he says, a note of smug satisfaction in his voice. “But we did have some fun together last night.”
“Ugh, ew!”
“Hey, don’t ask ridiculous questions if you don’t want ridiculous answers.”
I groan again, my face contorting with displeasure. “I’m hanging up now.”
“I love you, Lil. I’ll see you in three weeks.” “Three weeks,” I echo. “Love you, too.”
After flinging my phone onto the bed, I’m left wearing an irrepressible smile. I soak in the happy thoughts before disentangling my clothing from the shower. Seems like I’ll have to bite the bullet and get a new dryer after all.
It may be ridiculous, but I should have just accepted the money from the start.
One way or another, I need to accept that Mica Jennings, NFL pro and star cornerback, always gets what he wants.
 |
OUR USUAL LITTLE study nook is cluttered with an hour’s worth of academic chaos. Shannon’s calculus assignments sit neatly stacked beside my strewn-about textbooks and notes. And as the last slivers of sunset slant through the high windows, the contrast between our study habits couldn’t be starker.
Lost in a sea of torts and constitutional principles, the sound of West’s voice jolts me back to reality. He stands, arms crossed, with a teasing grin on his face. “Hey, you two. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you girls were stalking me.”
The sight of him here, amidst the quiet rustle of turning pages and the murmur of low conversations, is disarming. I blink at him, my mind still tangled in my studies.
Shannon giggles in response to his taunt, pushing a strand of honey-red hair behind one ear. “Didn’t you just get here? Besides, we always come here on Thursday afternoons. It’s tradition.”
“Well, isn’t that just the perfect coincidence?” West’s grin widens. “I meet my tutor here on Thursdays.”
“Tutor?” My curiosity is piqued. “Yeah—for English Lit.”
“With Professor Hartman?” My question hangs between us. Memories of late-night paper writing and intense class discussions come flooding back. Despite her reputation for being a hard-ass, Professor Hartman’s class was where my passion for writing took root.
West sighs, looking almost defeated. “That’s the one.”
“Cool,” I say, albeit a bit awkwardly. “I took that course freshman year.”
He lets out a surprised snort. “So did I. We must have had class together and didn’t even realize it.”
Caught off guard, I say, “I guess so. So, you’re retaking it now?”
“Yeah, unfortunately, I failed the first time around,” he confesses, looking even more deflated.
Shannon, ever the empath, reaches out to pat his arm. “I guess it’s good you found a tutor.”
West grimaces. “Yeah, except he bailed on me today. We have an assignment due on Monday, and our next session isn’t for another week. So, basically, I’m screwed.”
“That sucks,” Shannon murmurs sympathetically.
Noticing my quietness, West turns to face me. His eyes, filled with a mixture of desperation and hope, meet mine. “You’re a writer, Jade. Could you take a look at my paper?”
“Oh, um, I don’t know that I really have time for that.” I mean, I have an exam in Mass Media Law tomorrow, another article due for the Daily, and then there’s my third date with Freddy. Normally, I wouldn’t mind helping someone out with editing, but I’m honestly kind of swamped.
Undeterred, he says, “I’ll pay you. I mean, I can’t really pay you, but . .
. what about coffee? I’ll bring you coffee from the Grind . . . every day for a week if you help me out.”
Well, I do love coffee. And I’m kind of strapped for spare cash at the moment, so it’s not like I can afford to buy my own lattes on campus. “Yeah, okay,” I finally relent. “Maybe I could swing it.”
His response is a whoop of joy. “Yes! Thank you!”
I quickly interject, “But I can’t do it right now. I have an exam in the morning, and I need to finish this study guide.”
“That’s fine,” West concedes, his fingers combing through his disheveled hair. His lips curve into a small, appreciative smile. “How about after your exam tomorrow?”
“Yeah, sure,” I say, returning the smile, the tension in his posture easing. “We could just meet up here again, say around two o’clock?”
He nods, relieved. “Okay, perfect—give me your phone.”
I rummage through my bag, retrieving the device and handing it over to him. His fingers fly over the screen, entering his contact information before passing it back. “Just text me if you need to bail or something.”
“I won’t bail,” I assure him, our eyes meeting for a brief moment. And there’s that warm caramel again, something strangely comforting in the intensity of his gaze.
“I’m serious.” He meets my incredulous stare with a look that’s both earnest and grateful. “You’re really saving my life here, Jade.”
I roll my eyes, suppressing a full-blown smile. “So dramatic,” I say, sliding my phone back into my bag.
His gaze flickers to Shannon, a soft smile gracing his features. “Shan, it was great to see you again.” He reaches out, giving her shoulder a light, friendly squeeze. “Jade, see you tomorrow.”
He saunters away, his presence slowly fading into the hum of the library. Impassively, I turn my attention back to my study guide, dutifully highlighting the section on intellectual property.
A few minutes pass, and now I’m squirming in my seat. I can tell that someone is staring at me, so I lift my eyes from my notes to meet Shannon’s questioning gaze.
“What?” I ask, a hint of defensiveness edging into my voice.
A mischievous glint twinkles in her eyes. “You know, West’s a good guy, Jade. But he’s definitely a player.”
I frown. “And why are you telling me this?”
With a shrug and a cryptic smile, she says, “No reason.” Suspicion creeps in. “Shan, are you trying to imply something?” “No, not at all. I was just observing.”
My mind whirls to catch up. “Wait, do you like him, Shan?”
“Nah, we’re just friends. He did kind of hit on me the other week, but I’m sure he does that with everyone.”
“So, you don’t want to sleep with him, then?” I ask, working to read her dubious expression.
“I don’t not want to,” she confesses with a slight blush. “But I’m looking for something more serious right now, and West isn’t the guy for that.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
The guy definitely seems like the hit-it-and-quit-it type, not that there’s anything inherently wrong with that. If Shannon’s not interested in a one- night stand, then she’s right—she probably shouldn’t go for a guy like West.
“So, um, do you want to sleep with him?”
Grinning, I echo her words. “Well, I don’t not want to.”
“Jade!” Her eyes widen comically, a playful smirk curling her lips.
“I’m joking, Shan.” I can’t help but laugh at her reaction. “I barely know him. He’s your friend. He seems decent, but he also comes across as a bit too cocky for me.”
“Well, if you ever decided to go there, I wouldn’t mind.”
I raise a brow. “Yeah?”
She nods, her green eyes twinkling with amusement. “West is totally fair game.”
“Good to know,” I say, unable to hold back a full-on chuckle. “But remember, you still owe me that official athlete introduction. West doesn’t count.”
She rolls her eyes, gently tapping my hand in mock annoyance. “Patience, Jade.”
“Hmm,” I muse, looking back at my study guide, “I’m not really a patient person.”
Her laughter echoes in the quiet library. “Yes, I think I’m starting to see that.”
