“I’m sure.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I repeat. “We’ll leave Saturday, then?”
“Saturday,” he agrees.
Taking a sip of my coffee, I peek over the top at him, watching as he swallows thickly and looks down at his lap. It’s probably so boring here at the library with me if he’s already memorized all of his notes; I’m not the most interesting person.
“You don’t have to meet me here every day, by the way.”
This time, he lifts his head and frowns at me.
I huff out a feeble laugh. “I’m sure you have better things to do than sit here with me for an hour.”
“Uh, n-no,” he scratches the back of his neck, “I don’t, really.”
His words immediately pique my curiosity. Whatdoeshe do when he’s not here? Especially if he doesn’t even need to study because he already knows everything. He doesn’t have any family to talk to, and it doesn’t seem like he has friends…but I shut that thought down because it makes my stomach churn uneasily to assume something like that. I just met him a few days ago, it would be mean of me to think that gives me any place to make hurtful assumptions about his social life.
“Well, since you have nothing better to do than to watch me study, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
He nods swiftly. “Yes.”
A ghost of a smile resides on my lips as I start to stack my books together, scooping them up as I try to balance everything in my arms. I really need to invest in a bag big enough to hold all of my stuff, so I don’t have to keep embarrassing myself in front of him. Seeing me flinch like a bomb had just gone off next to us earlier was embarrassing enough.
With my arms full, I turn to leave, but not before shooting him a look over my shoulder.
“Oh, and Tate?”
He hums expectantly.
“If you murder me, Iwillhaunt you.”
CHAPTER FOUR
TATE
Thursday, December 16th
My knee bounces so quickly that I feel the table moving faintly beneath my elbows, which are propped up as I fist my hands together against my mouth. I shouldn’t feel this nervous to see her again, more nervous than ever, but I did something entirely,whollyidiotic. At least, I think I did.
I made Maeve color-coordinated flashcards.
Whodoes that? She’s going to think I’m a freak.
After seeing her notebook yesterday, and the amount of highlighted sections and parts that didn’t even look legible, I thought it might be easier for her to study if she had flashcards on the basics. Something simple yet effective, so she could spend less time worrying about her notes and more time making sure she was confident in knowing everything. But now that I wait for her to enter the library so I can give them to her, I already feel embarrassed.
I contemplate throwing them in the nearest trash can, but just as the thought flickers through my mind, I see her. She’s dressed in her usual workout clothes with a winter coat over top, a latte in one hand with her books teetering in the other.
Hot vanilla latte.
Sub almond milk.
Two extra shots of espresso.
Yes, I memorized her coffee order. The same label on all her coffees has been in front of me for the last three days, so…of course I memorized it. The photographic memory didn’t give me much of a choice.
And like I want to permanently ingrain the feeling of embarrassment into my veins, as she sits across from me, I slide the flashcards over to her. Her brows raise questioningly as she glances down at the bright cards that feel like they have a giant spotlight on them.
