“Are you badmouthing Thanksgiving?”
“Ah, what’s so great about it?” he asks.
“Food!” I reply enthusiastically.
“There’s food for Christmas, too.”
“Yeah, but there are presents and whatnot which take away from the holiday.”
“But you still have food.”
“Yes, but there’s just too much going on. Thanksgiving is all about giving thanks and eating.”
“Okay, okay. I guess that’s passable. Next question,” he says.
“When was the last time you climbed a tree?”
“What the…? These questions are really weird and not at all helpful in determining a topic. The last time I climbed a tree was in camp when I was about seven years old.”
“Wow, you have not had much of a life.”
“When was the last time you climbed a tree, adventurer?”
“I climbed a tree when I was a senior in high school. My mom, my dad, and I went back home to the Dominican Republic and I climbed a tree to get some mangoes.”
He looks impressed. “Wow, that’s quite a story. Next time I’m in a Caribbean country, remind me to give you a call.”
“Ha ha, very funny. I’m not climbing a tree for you. Get your own mangoes.” I pop a home fry in my mouth and look at him, challenging him to say something else.
He finishes a spoonful of eggs, but otherwise keeps his mouth shut.
We continue to go back and forth with a few more questions. I laugh at some of his ridiculous answers, like the fact that his weirdest crush is Simon Cowell from the X-Factor.
“Why the heck do you like him? He’s so mean!”
“Well, he tells it like it is. He doesn’t bullshit. He’s honest. He doesn’t deceive. And if you don’t have it, he’ll tell you to your face. I guess I’ve always liked the fact that Simon stabs you in the face, never in the back.”
“Okay,” I respond. Not quite sure what else to say. I clear my throat and move on to the next question. We get through nine of the ten questions the professor has on the list.
“Okay, the last question is, what is something you’ve read or seen recently that has made you upset or angry?”
“I read a social media post from a guy at another school boasting about a girl he’d purposefully gotten drunk so she’d sleep with him. I hate it when people take advantage of others that are unable to stand up for themselves,” Colton responds. I’m left speechless, remembering the guys surrounding Colton’s sister the week before.
“I agree. I think people taking advantage of others is what pisses me off the most.”
“Okay, so if we had to choose a problem, what would it be?” he asks.
“Um, that’s not part of the list of questions.”
“Nope, but that’s the purpose of the questions, and considering we have to hand this in tomorrow, we might as well choose a problem.”
“Okay, well what about something related to sexual assault?” I suggest uncomfortably.
“Sexual assault affecting a vulnerable population? Remember, we have to be global.”
“Yeah, so I know sexual assault is a giant issue on college campuses, but globally I’d have to say human sex trafficking.”
“Why don’t we narrow it down to child sex trafficking?”
“God, now that’s a problem I’d like to solve.”
“You and me both. Fuck people that take advantage of others. But fuck them even more if they take advantage of kids.”
I don’t add anything to his statement. I don’t feel like I need to. “Should we run it by Zack to see if he agrees?” I ask.
“Fuck no, he’s not here. He’ll have to suck it up,” he states matter-of-factly.
“Well, that’s that. I know more about you than I wanted to know, but it all led to the choosing of a good topic,” I say half-jokingly, trying to drag us back from the dark direction our conversation had just taken.
“Oh, shut it, you know you’ve always wanted to know my favorite colors, the last thing I Googled, and if I sing in the shower.”
“You’d like to think that now, wouldn’t you? Plus, I already know you don’t sing in the shower. Remember? I slept with you last night.”
Shit. I did not mean for that to come out the way it did.
“Maybe I was repressing my soul’s song for fear that you’d be more frightened than you were when I walked into the room the first time. Also, I’m glad you’ve admitted to sleeping with me.”
I chuckle and throw a fry at him. “Shut up! You know what I mean.”
“We should probably finish up here,” he says.
“We should, I have some things to do, and I’m sure you do too, so let’s get the check.”
“Alright, yeah. I meant we should leave the diner because we’ve been sitting here for a few hours now and I don’t want to make my favorite waitress mad at me because she isn’t getting tips from other customers since we’re hogging her table.”
“Right.” I definitely thought he just wanted to abandon ship.
“I was going to suggest we go somewhere else, but I know you have plans, and we’re done with the first part of the assignment, so…”
“Plans? What plans?” I ask.
“I thought you said you have some things to do.”
“Oh, those things. Really important things. I should definitely get to it.”
“I’ll drop you off,” he says. Maybe it’s for the better that we cut our time short. The next thing you know, I’ll be getting used to having someone other than Kiya to hang out with. It’s dangerous, but not as dangerous as getting close to someone who will eventually leave me.
Colton makes eye contact with the waitress and three minutes later the check arrives.
“I’ll get it,” we both respond in unison.
“Let me get it.” I like to pick up the tab. I don’t want anyone to get the idea that I owe them anything.
“No, you don’t have to do that,” he counters, holding on to the check and pulling it in his direction.
“Why, because I’m a woman and men have to pay? Will you feel emasculated if I pick up the tab?”
“Um no, because I ordered a shit ton of food and you only got coffee so it wouldn’t be fair for you to pay when you didn’t order as much.”
Fair point. “Oh, well… I also had French toast,” I argue pathetically.
“Yes, and again in the grand scheme of things, I ordered it. Even if you had, it still makes it two items to fifteen.”
“You didn’t get fifteen things.”
“Will you just let me pay?” he says, sounding a little annoyed.
“Okay,” I concede. “But let me at least get the tip.”
“You won’t let it rest, will you?”
“I don’t like feeling like I owe people.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to pay me back. Plus, if you pay, I’d be owing you. I don’t want to owe you.”
“Alright. I’ll get the tip, you get the check.”
“I’ll get everything this time, and you can get everything next time.”
“Next time?” His words light up a tiny match of hope within me. There will be a next time. He wants to hang out with me again.
“Yeah, we have to work together to finish this project. You’re stuck with me for the rest of the semester.”
Oh yeah, I forgot. The only reason he’s even here with me is homework, but even knowing that, I can’t help but smile.
11
Our ride back from the restaurant is probably a little worse than our drive to it. We don’t talk much and I don’t really think he wants to, so I stay quiet too. With a quiet “goodbye”, I open up the front door and shut it behind me, letting out a deep sigh of relief.
Thank God that’s over.
“You’re back! Where have you been?” Kiya practically screams when she comes out of her bedroom.
“Doing homework,” I say nonchalantly. Like it isn’t a big deal, because it isn’t.
�
�Considering I just saw Colton pull out the driveway, I want to know what kind of homework you were doing,” she says with a wicked grin.
“I’ll have you know we were working on our group project.”
“What group project?” Kiya asks, and I remember I haven’t told her I’m in a class with Colton.
“We’re taking Junior Seminar together,” I respond while keeping my eyes down. I’d do anything to avoid the look I know she’s giving me right now for not telling her.
“You have a class with Colton?” she squeaks excitedly. She starts jumping up and down like a child hopped up on sugar. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I gesture at her. “Do you have to ask?”
Once I get through her cross-examination about my whereabouts and my class with Colton, I start on her. She did stay with Blake after the party, and with a little pressure, she tells me she shared his bed.
“But nothing more happened,” Kiya insists.
“Really?”
“I mean, I like him—obviously. I’ve been crushing on him for a year now, but I refuse to act on it.”
“Why?”
“Blake has a reputation of not committing to one girl. Plus, he has a tendency to get into trouble. But the thing is, he texts me every day, and he’s always at whatever party I’m at. He even tells me he’s ‘feeling me’ every time he sees me.”
“And?” I prompt when she hesitates.
She shrugs. “It’s not enough. If he’s only after one thing, he won’t be getting it from me.”
I’m actually proud of her for not giving in.
“Are you hungry?” Kiya asks, artfully changing the subject. She walks into the kitchen and takes some chicken from the fridge.
I nod and sigh. “What am I going to do without you when you leave?”
“For starters, starve,” she responds, adding seasoning to the meat.
“You can say that again. Would you mind teaching me?”
“How much time do we have?”
“Funny,” I deadpan. “I’m a quick learner.”
“Yeah, you learn what you want to learn really quickly. How will you feed your husband?”
“I don’t want to learn for a husband. I’m more concerned with how I’ll feed myself.”
“My family says unless you know how to cook, you can’t get married.”
“Seriously? My grandfather used to say the same thing. Mom, too.”
“Yet you never learned?” she says as she turns on the oven.
“Well, I’d like to believe my husband will cook for the both of us. Plus, I don’t subscribe to these roles. Why do I have to cook? Can’t I just be the bread-winner?”
“Equality means you both learn, Mia.”
“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, speaking of food, when will it be ready? I’m starving,” I say.
“Didn’t you have food at the diner?” she asks like she just caught me in a lie.
“Barely. I had coffee. And a little bit of Colton’s food, but not enough to fill me up; my stomach wasn’t up for it.”
“Aw, you guys shared food and everything. You withheld important information from me, Mia!”
“How’s that important? And, no, we didn’t share food. He didn’t feed it to me, Ki. He ordered too much and told me to eat some.”
“Sharing his bed, now his food. I wonder what else you’ll be sharing.” She hip-checks me while wiggling her eyebrows.
“And you wonder why I didn’t tell you I have class with him,” I mutter under my breath, but still loud enough for her to hear.
“Don’t remind me of your indiscretion. I should just make food for myself to punish you.”
“I should stop being your friend for getting super drunk and leaving me alone at his house,” I retort.
Kiya’s smile fades. “I’m so sorry about that, Mia.”
“I was joking.”
“No, you’re not. I messed up. I had one job.”
And we’re back to this conversation.
“Kiya, its ok—”
“No, it’s not, Mia. I made you go to the party with me. I knew how you felt about them. And instead of making sure we weren’t separated, and that one of us was sober enough to get the two of us home, I got plastered. And, well, you woke up in a stranger’s room. I’m so sorry. I am a terrible friend.” Her eyes are watering now.
“No, Kiya,” I begin, immediately feeling guilty for putting so much pressure on her. “I chose to go to that party. You asked me to go with you, but I made the decision. It wasn’t your job to keep me safe. We both got too drunk. I somehow ended up upstairs talking to Colton. Blake assured you it would be okay. And although Blake may be a lot of things, you think he’s a good person. We couldn’t drive back home, and although it would have made more sense to stay in the same room, you knew nothing bad would happen to me.”
“I will not pressure you to go to any more parties. Shoot, I think it would do me well to not go to any either.”
“I probably won’t be going to any anytime soon. But you,” I point at her and in the most dramatic way I can, I add, “I’d love to see the day you turn down a party.”
“Shut up! I can be a homebody.” She puts the chicken in the oven.
“I have to work hard and play harder,” I say, mocking my roommates’ earlier words.
“Will you ever let that go?”
“Nope. Anyway, you should still have fun. I had fun.”
“You did?” She grabs a pot from the bottom cabinet and starts to fill it with water.
“Yeah, I loved that you and I got to just talk, and for a moment, I was able to let loose and enjoy myself. Drinking was fun, dancing in the middle of the dance floor was exciting. Playing beer pong was cool, though if I ever do that again, you will not be my partner.”
“Me?” she gasps. “But I was wonderful. You sucked.”
I laugh. “That’s not how I remember it; we both sucked.”
“Maybe it’s for the better we never team up,” Kiya says while measuring the rice and adding it to a plastic bowl.
“Agreed,” I state, watching my roommate wash the rice. I’d seriously die of hunger without her.
“Anyway, even the short conversation with Hayes was fun. And even more surprisingly, I had a decent conversation with Colton.”
“Did you now?” she asks.
“Well, it must have been an okay conversation considering I fell asleep.”
“That’s probably the first time that’s ever happened to him.”
I don’t doubt it. I’m sure most girls hang on his every word.
“When I realized you hadn’t come back, I went up to check on you, to see if you needed me to hold back your hair,” Kiya says.
“You did?” I ask, remembering how the two of us held back Kaitlyn’s hair weeks before.
“I saw Colton come down from the stairs and asked him if he’d seen you.”
“You expected him to know who I was?”
“I described you as the girl who had lost terribly to him at beer pong,” she laughs
“Very funny!”
“He told me you fell asleep in the hallway and he took you up to a room.”
“That sounds real creepy.”
“I thought so too, but he showed me what room you were in. I saw you passed out on a bed, fully clothed. He assured me you’d be okay and that no one would come into the room.”
“Well, he lied because he slept there.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Yes, he did. He told me he slept on the couch. I saw the sheets there.”
“That’s odd,” Kiya says. “No, he slept in the room next door to Blake’s. It was empty because they had kicked out one of the athletes last month for ‘questionable behavior’.” She says the last part making air quotes.
“If that was the case, why not put me in that room?”
“He said no one would go into the room you were in because it was his.”
I am relieved by her words. I feel a sense of gratitude towar
ds Colton for trying to make sure nothing bad happened to me. I also feel like kicking him in the shins for making me think we shared a room.
“He told me he slept on the couch.”
“He was probably just trying to see how you’d react. Busting your chops.”
“I want to bust his chops,” I mutter before thinking about how that sounds coming out of my mouth.
“More like jump his bones,” Kiya responds. I roll my eyes and start setting up the table.
* * *
Like clockwork, Monday arrives.
Yes, Monday from hell, where my alarm clock sounds like an ambulance, firetruck, and ice cream truck all at the same time.
I stop whining and turn to my right, smacking the clock and making it stop.
It has once again done its job because I am awake.
I run through my morning routine, and get a coffee from the student café. I arrive to class fifteen minutes early, and I’m about to take a seat, when I remember I now have a new one. Because I’m in a group that sits in the back. I can’t even see too well from there, but that’s where I’m stuck.
I sit down and briefly consider switching my seat to take the one next to Colton instead of Zack, but think better of it; I don’t think Colton and I are actually friends now.
I distract myself by playing on my phone again. A few minutes later I look up to see Colton making his way towards me. I lick my lips instinctively. His hair is still wet, and my fingers itch to run through it. He’s wearing a flannel shirt, which does a bad job of hiding his bulging biceps, and jeans. I suddenly wish I was back at my regular seat, so I can take a look at his likely glorious ass. He reaches the top of the stairs and takes Zack’s seat. I glance around the room, seeing it’s still relatively empty.
Why is he here so early?
He pulls out a binder and begins studying it intently.
I want to say hello because it seems like the reasonable thing to do considering I spent a large part of yesterday and the night before with him, but I’m afraid. What if he ignores me like he did the other girl?
In the end, I decide to woman up and speak first.
“Hey,” I say, my voice a little shaky.
His piercing gray eyes meet mine. My breath stops and I can physically feel the weight of his gaze. If I wasn’t already sitting down, I’d have likely fallen judging by the way my knees are shaking. I wait, wondering what will happen next. Will he dismiss me or acknowledge me?
Better With You: A Bragan University Novel Page 8