She snorted. “Sure, you are.”
“Love you,” I sang, making her laugh. “Go have fun on your date and text me when you get back just so I know you’re alive and still not a mother.”
“I love you too,” she said with a wink. “I’ll tell you what it feels like dating a dad, if you tell me how it is to have a football player on-call later? Dirty detailed version? For research, of course.”
I shook my head and gave her a playful eye roll. “Goodnight, Ari.”
She giggled. “Talk to you soon, girl.”
Chapter 19
“Covee,what’s the ETA on those posters?” Yara chewed on her sweatshirt drawstring. As President of the Black Women Development Club, she was always an enormous ball of nerves. I had met her in our African Folklore class where she constantly chewed on her nails - even when asking questions.
During a group discussion, she learned about me being a graphic design major and begged me to be her temporary designer because she needed to revamp this slowly dying student organization.
“It’s for my mom,” she had explained with dark circles under her eyes. “I’m a legacy. She was the president of BWDC for three years. I can’t let her down. Our posters suck.”
I offered to sit in on meetings. Not because I wanted to join, but because her dark circles matched my own. I could sacrifice one night a week to help a fellow anxious black girl.
“I can send a rough draft now,” I opened my design folder on my computer.
“Perfect. Send them to everyone on the executive board group text too, please.” She was now typing quickly on her phone. My own buzzed with a text from her in the group chat.
Where is everyone???? We only have to meet for an hour!!
I shot her a sympathetic look, but she was too busy staring at her phone, waiting for a reply. We were usually the only two to show up early, so there wasn’t any surprise there. What’s surprising was we’d waited a good half hour with no communication from the rest of the members, and Tessa, the secretary, forgot to book a meeting room.
We were waiting in the lobby of the Parker Student Center as students buzzed by and sat around us in loud groups, talking and joking around with one another. We looked out of place - two black girls with bitten nails sitting in silence and bathing in anxiety.
I glanced at the table across from ours and saw a couple of girls laughing. Their voices were loud enough for me to figure out the conversation was centered on the football game coming up. One of them wanted an invitation to the after-party. Another swore the pre-game party was just as fun.
“God, can one thing be simple?” Yara grumbled to her phone. “I’ll be back. I think I just came on my period. Sorry. TMI.”
I smiled and shook my head. “No worries. Need a tampon?”
She picked up her bag. “I got one. Watch my stuff?”
She left her laptop and a Chemistry textbook. I leaned back into my seat, waiting for my photos to load into my email. The girls were still talking about football, reminding me of a certain someone.
Since the scrimmage night, I hadn’t texted Weston. I needed space and time to make sure my head was screwed on tight enough to not float when he smiled at me. He’d kept to his word, letting me be the one to lead.
Just as I texted the group, I noticed the girls near me adopted hushed tones. Curiosity got the best of me as I slyly glanced in their direction. They focused on someone out of my sight. Their giggles quickly annoyed me because it was impossible to make out any words when the squeaky sounds coated their every word. You’d think we were on a playground in the first grade. I decided turning back to my work would be the best use of my time. I got enough giggly secondhand gossip from Taylor to last me a lifetime.
I turned around too soon. If I had waited for a second longer then I could have prepared myself for the encounter.
“How’s it going, Covee?” a smooth voice asked me. At my side, Weston placed one hand on the back of my chair. He was so close I could feel the heat of his body on my own.
“Hey.” I tried to make the word sound as casual as possible. “What’s up?”
Kevin was in tow. He glanced at the gaggle of girls who were now gazing at me with envy and longing. When he gave them a charming wave, they turned away as if they weren’t gawking.
Weston turned the chair next to me backward, sitting to face me. “Got time to talk?”
“About?” I raise an eyebrow.
“The other day.”
We both glanced at Kevin, who has now directed his attention to us.
