“It’s a two-minute walk,” I mutter.
She pushes out the double doors, then spins to face me as I follow. “That’s two minutes I could be munching on shrimp pasta and baclava. I’ll probably have to eat ramen for years once I get out of this place so I can pay back my loans. Let me enjoy my free food for a little while.”
“You didn’t have to wait for me.”
“Yes I did. Who else besides me would dare to disturbMr. Gravlin?” she teases. The fact that it doesn’t affect me at all when she says it is proof Waylynn has a hold on me. I can’t explain it, nor do I even care to try. As if thinking about her makes her appear, I notice Waylynn walking up the street with a brown bag in her hands.
Her face lights up when we make eye contact. “Don’t look now, but I think you have an admirer coming this way.” Bethany shoves her arm through mine and curls her fingers around my bicep.
Waylynn’s smile slips a little, but she covers it well. “Hey,” she says softly, unsure.
“My office hours are over for the day. You can leave an email if you need help.” My voice is tight because I hate that I’m doing this to her.
“Oh, I wasn’t—”
Bethany interrupts. “He’s a stickler for the rules. Plus, I wrangled him into a lunch date.”
My first instinct is to deny it, but that would just make Bethany ask questions. “I think she’s friends with my brother,” I blurt out, like admitting that is going to somehow make anything that is happening better, but once it’s out, I realize it sounded worse.
“Pardon me. I didn’t mean to hold you up. Enjoy your date.” Waylynn steps to the side while averting her gaze, then she continues down the sidewalk as if I didn’t just treat her like a stranger whomightknow my brother.Shit.
“You’re welcome,” Bethany singsongs and pulls me forward with her arm still locked through mine. The doors to Munger are less than two hundred feet away. If I would have taken the time to text Waylynn instead of allowing Bethany to rush me, we might not have even run into each other.
Once we get inside and meet up with the other TAs from several different departments, I slip to the side and pull my phone out. I don’t even know what to say, so I end up just staring at the screen until Bethany calls me again. “Gravlin, let’s nom.”
Hastily, I type a message.
Me:It’s not a date.
Me:I’m sorry.
It’s only after I send it that I realize I should have switched the order. I slip the phone into my pocket and spend the entire time I’m eating feeling my pocket for phantom vibrations, waiting for her response that never comes.
I’m the first to leave after a brief thank you to Professor Daniels. Everything tasted like shit, and it was because of my mood, not the food. I don’t even wait until I’m back in the office before I’m dialing her number.
When she doesn’t answer the first time, I call her right back and leave a voicemail. “Sorry, I should have… It’s just, you’re a student in my class. Oz is usually with us, and I can…pretend you are with him. It was not a date. It was lunch with several other TAs and a law professor. Call me.” I hang up the phone and snarl, “Fuck,” under my breath, but the person walking next to me clearly hears it when he turns his head to glance at me.
I ignore him and shut myself in the office behind a locked door. It’s bad enough she saw me at dinner the other night with Makayla, but now Bethany told her we were on a date, which might force me to explain that Bethany and I do have a history of hooking up. It hasn’t been since last year, and there were never any strings attached, but that might make it worse.
“Fuck!” I repeat and toss my phone on the desk, pissed I allowed this to happen when it would have been a simple conversation to explain to Waylynn that while she’s in my class, she’s just my brother’s girlfriend to me when we’re out. Then I wouldn’t have freaked out, thinking she was going to say something that would get us both in trouble and this shit could have been avoided.
I look at my computer on the desk, noting the extra emails I didn’t get to yesterday because I shortened my hours, and I want to put it all off again, but I can’t unless I want to spend the weekend grading papers and answering emails from days earlier.
My replies are professional but even more cross than usual. I glance at my watch, noting I was able to get through three in a matter of minutes and hoping they are all simple, but the next one requires more attention, and it’s the beginning of a slippery slope. Before I know it, hours have passed, and I still haven’t heard back from Waylynn, nor am I done for the day. I can’t even have Oz message her. He has commitments all day, and I don’t want to explain what a fuckup I am, though he would probably find it funny that I’ve been sitting here in knots all day because a girl didn’t return my call.
An hour later, I snap the top of my computer shut and reach for my phone in the same movement. I dial her number, and she picks up on the end of the fourth ring, right when I’m about to hang up and drive straight to her house.
“Hello.” Her voice is a little raspy, like she hasn’t used it in hours.
“You picked up.”
“You called.” Those two words make me feel a little like an idiot and are well deserved.
“Did you get my messages?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t call me back,” I tell her, even though that’s obvious.
