–Mom: Are you being a prude? I know you have sex. I’d be worried if you were still a virgin because that would mean you’re suffering from erectile dysfunction or some psychological disorder.
I’d rather have Starfire sit on me for an hour than get a text on sexual dysfunction from my mother.
–Me: It’s one thing for you to KNOW, and another for you to SAY IT!
–Mom: How many times have I told you? Reality doesn’t care about your hang-ups.
Time to end this before I get some kind of PTSD.
–Me: I gotta go. Thanks for the offer of the mansion. And the bag. I’ll take both.
–Mom: Okay. I’ll have the property manager get in touch.
–Me: I have her number. I’ll text her.
Mom doesn’t respond. She’s probably just happy she doesn’t have to bother with her property manager. And I’m relieved Mom’s done traumatizing me. At least she’s letting me use the beachfront home and gave me the bag. The ones those fancy event organizers hand out aren’t something you can buy on the street. Aspen will look rad carrying it. Griffin’s mom says a woman should always have a great purse, even if she’s dressed in rags. She’s a fashion model, so she should know.
I throw the empty ice cream carton into the trash and stretch. My muscles are a bit achy, but they’re always a little sore after a match. I change out of my soiled T-shirt and shove my feet into a pair of sneakers. After grabbing my phone and wallet, I head to the library. It would suck to be in my dorm like a loser on a Saturday night when I could be hanging at the library, where Aspen is.
Professor Pettit told us to read up on—and analyze—the events leading up to Black Monday. I already know a lot about the stock market crash, but I can always get more material…with Aspen’s help. A quick refresher would be great.
Clemson Library is only about fifteen minutes on foot. It’s a four-story structure with red brick walls and windows set into white wooden frames. It’s one of the original buildings at the college, but the interior is brand new, with over thirty computers right as you walk in. There are also comfy couches and armchairs for reading. The second floor has a huge area for group studying, and the third and fourth floors have individually partitioned desks. Although the first floor smells like fresh air and plastic, the rest of the building is musty from all the old books.
Aspen is at the information counter opposite the entrance. She’s so pretty, her hair glinting like spun fire as she studies something on her desk. She purses her full lips. The sight makes me think of the kiss, and how soft and sweet she felt against me.
I let out a rough breath. Shit, it’s hot. The A/C here must be broken.
A trio of girls approach her—Sadie, Bronte and Tanya.Oh fuck.Now what?
Sadie says something to Aspen I can’t quite catch. Aspen shakes her head, which is not a response Sadie likes. She doesn’t handle rejection well.
“I don’t know why you won’t let me check outThe History of Medieval Mathematica,” she says loudly, her voice high-pitched with annoyance.
Does she know the phrase “silence is golden” was invented for her?
“It’s for my Medieval Europe class!” she adds.
“I understand,” Aspen says, “but we only have one copy, and Professor Levine specifically instructed the library not to let anybody check it out. You can snap photos with your phone.”
“I’m not studying on this tiny screen!” Sadie says.
“Then there’s the old-fashioned way.” Aspen points at a copy machine.
Go, Aspen!I love it when a girl can handle herself so well.
Sadie stamps her foot. “She told me I could check it out!”
“Last time you said that, it turned out you lied and we had an unpleasant situation. Plus, you had the gall to tell the professorwewere the ones who made the mistake, not you,” Aspen says. “So, no.”
Does it make me a perv that watching her take charge is turning me on?
“Are you calling me aliar?” Sadie hisses. Tanya and Bronte put their hands on their hips and move forward. I have no idea what they’re trying to do. There’s a counter that comes to my chest between Aspen and them. They aren’t athletic enough to jump over, although I’d love to see them try and break something.
“If the shoe fits,” Aspen says blandly.
Sadie huffs. Nobody treats her like this, and she probably doesn’t know how to handle it.
Aspen pulls out her phone. “If you really want to check it out, just say into my phone here that you received permission from Professor Levine to check outThe History of Medieval Mathematicafor the Medieval Europe class.”
