“I thought you were…”Actually into me?Did I really think that? No. I wasn’t completely dense. But a small part of me ran away with the fantasy that he’d perhaps been harboring some sort of crush on me all semester. And now, when we were paired together for this project, he finally got his chance.
“Thought I was what, Covee?” He raised one bushy eyebrow. His grin revealed a set of perfectly straight, white teeth.
I silently wondered if he was one of those kids that needed tons of dental work when he was younger. I had but my family couldn’t afford it. It looked like he might have had more than enough money to dedicate to whatever he needed. Instinctively, my tongue brushed across my slightly crooked front teeth. I tugged my well-worn cardigan around my body, suddenly growing more self-conscious about my appearance. It was silly to let him make me feel this way.
“Nothing. Let’s just get out of here,” I decided.
“Back to studying?”
I shook my head. “Let’s reschedule. It’s getting late. We’ve wasted too much time.”
Weston opened his mouth as if he was going to object. Instead, he gave me at a simple nod. I followed him as we weaved our way through rows of bookshelves. Each step we took reminded me of how ridiculous this all was. Not only did we waste time, but I possibly missed the last bus that went to my side of campus.
“You’re kidding me.” Weston halted right in front of me. I slammed right into his back and it felt like hitting a brick wall. He reached behind himself to steady me. His arm wrapped around my waist, enveloping my side like it was second nature.
“Well, look at who we’ve got here.” The security guard shone the flashlight directly into our faces. He clicked it on and off like a jerk. Weston shielded most of the light. “Weston Briggs. With…”
“How’s it going, Craig?” Weston asked. His body felt stiff, but his words flowed without a hitch. He stayed in front of me, not simply blocking the light, but protecting me from view.
“Oh, you know, the usual. Escorting drunks to their dorms, answering prank calls, and catching you loitering,” Craig responded.
“We should work on your productivity,” Weston teased.
“So, what should we do about the loitering? Because I’m pretty sure it violates your probation.” Craig finally removed the flashlight from our faces but kept clicking it on and off as though it was an unconscious habit. Weston didn’t move an inch from blocking me.
“You’re on probation?” I questioned in a barely audible voice.
There was so much I assumed about Weston just from my observations of him in the classroom. I thought he was an athlete, dedicated to his sport. And a decent student when he showed up for critiques because his work looked solid. Because he was quiet, I thought he was the strong, silent type. Turns out, I just needed a proper introduction to learn none of those descriptions had fit.
Weston wasn’t some shy football player. This guy offered to get on his knees for a girl he just started talking to a few hours ago. This guy “scratched backs” - whatever that meant. I wasn’t sure what he did to people when they gave him a name. Did I want to find out?
“It’s debatable,” Weston told me at the same time Craig said, “He is.”
“Debatable?” I reached down to remove his hand from my side. “What happened to the no bullshit rule?”
“I’m not bullshitting. It’s complicated,” he promised. Weston quickly turned to me. There was sincerity in his voice that I couldn’t ignore. And no matter how much my brain wanted to step away from him, my body wanted to do the opposite.
“Sorry to ruin this touching moment, but we’re going to have to talk about punishment,” Craig said as he flicked the light in Weston’s face again. “You’re on probation. That’s not debatable, kid.”
“And you are…” he said as he switched the light on me.
Ready to accept my fate, I opened my mouth to share my name.
“Let her off with a warning. God knows I’ve gotten a million of those,” Weston said.
Craig scowled. His clicking resumed as he declared, “Fine. I’ll let her off with the disclaimer to never spend time with you.”
“That’s fair,” Weston agreed.
There was another pause before Craig sighed and looked at me, “I don’t know who you are, but from the looks of things you’re more of a stay-at-home kind of girl.”
I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest. That sounded like code for, you can’t possibly be Weston’s type.
“Don’t try to impress anyone by being different,” Craig continued. “It’ll backfire.”
Weston snorted. “Okay, relax. Saying it’ll backfiring seems a bit strong, don’t you think?”
“Oh, really? From what happened last month, I’d say otherwise.” Craig directed his last statement to me. “Don’t go down the rabbit hole, kid. This guy’s stuck there.”
