Chapter 33 – Sylvia
Chapter Thirty-Three
Sylvia
Clover finally calms down about the DJ situation when she hears the reason Kola and I said yes. Money. The first thing I did when Kit asked was to text his cousin, my sister’s bae, Crispin Barclay and ask for advice. Crispin sent back two words: Extort him.
After dance practice, she heads off to the library to see Thomas, and I head back to Kola’s room for a few.
I have a meeting later tonight, but that won’t happen until long after Kola falls asleep.
Kola’s in a good mood from securing the bag and I’m in a weird funk again.
I miss dad, Denise, Teresa, mom and weirdly enough, I miss Amina.
It might not be completely weird — she is my sister.
But we only grew close over the past few months and I didn’t expect leaving her behind in New Orleans to hurt the way it does.
I think about calling mom and I know I’ll feel better if I do, but I’m not in the mood for a motivational speech. I also don’t want her to worry.
“Want to make Pop Tarts?” Kola asks as she pulls the dorm door open. Heck. Yes.
“Girl, you know it.”
“Pop Tarts make every sad mood go away. I’ll get them from my room.”
I head over to the common room as Kola bounds over her room to get the Pop Tarts. They’re so freaking sweet, but I love making them in the toaster and soaking up that delicious American goodness in between the bangers and mash. Molly, Clover’s roommate, sits in the common room when I get there.
“Hey, Molly!”
“Hey,” she says. “What’s up.”
She shuts her novel and curls her feet under her on the chair.
“Waiting for Kola to bring Pop Tarts. What are you reading?”
It’s not a novel at all, apparently.
“Why Men Love Bitches,” Molly answers.
“Is it any good?”
Molly shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s true though. Men only like bitches.”
“Maybe some guys,” I say. “But there’s someone out there for everyone.”
Molly rolls her eyes. She’s one of those people who takes a lot of work to keep positive, but I don’t think she’s a bad person.
“No way,” she says. “All the hot guys only go for bitches. Look at Martha. She’s all over every guy on the crew team in our chem class.”
“She’s just friendly,” I tell Molly. “And I don’t think she’s dating anyone.”
“She wants to date Thomas,” Molly blurts out. “I can tell.”
Why the hell does everyone want to involve me in Thomas’ business? As for dating Thomas. It doesn’t matter if any girl wants to date him. He’s undateable — his words. Not mine. And considering his confession about Amelia Harrington… I’m not in the place to say he’s wrong about his own assessment.
He should stay far away from women. Including Martha, Clover or anyone else.
At least I know Clover’s only really working on an ethics project with him.
She’s not smitten like half the girls at this school who think Thomas is some kind of brooding bad boy.
He’s dangerous, not brooding. There’s a huge difference.
“Lots of people want to date Thomas,” I respond neutrally.
Molly puffs out air in frustration. “Isn’t that strange? He’s not that special.”
Even if I might agree, Thomas is my friend and I don’t really want to shit talk him with Molly. Kola emerges with the Pop Tarts and a new move to her happy dance.
“I got a sick reputation for handling tarts,” she raps to the tune of Freak-A-Leek by Petey Pablo. I shut her down before she can subject us to more of her rap lyrics. Kola tosses me a pack of two from the box and then offers a couple to Molly.
“No thanks,” Molly says. “I already ate.”
“Cool,” Kola says, eagerly unwrapping hers and sticking them in the toaster. Home girl is starving.
“I talked to Jamal today,” Kola says, unperturbed by Molly’s presence.
“Oh?”
“I think he’s going to ask me on a date soon. I’ve been dropping hints that I really want to go to this restaurant a few miles away.”
After Kola gushes about her crush on Jamal and I make (and eat) my Pop Tart, I have to escape to get homework done. Molly still sits there reading her book and I head back to my room. It’s still weird coming in here after all the vandalism. He doesn’t want me to be alone.
My phone buzzes after a couple hours of homework. I know it’s him before I even pick up. My hound.
“Hey,” I whisper. “Where are you?”
“Early,” he says. “Can you come over?”
“I should finish my homework.”
“I’ll help.”
I giggle at the thought of him helping me with homework. There’s just no way.
“No. Can you just wait thirty minutes?”
“I’ve already waited way too long to see you.”
When he says romantic stuff like that, my heart flutters.
I get so angry with myself for even allowing my body to have that involuntary reaction.
Isn’t there some way to suppress those feelings?
Thinking about baseball? Too bad I don’t know shit about baseball, so I can’t really think about it.
I was more of a football chick. See? Every time he says romantic stuff, I just stop myself from thinking about it. Romance.
“Thirty minutes. Please.”
“We won’t have to be apart like this for long,” he says. “I can’t wait to see you.”
“Is it going to happen tonight?” I whisper.
“Yeah,” he says. “If you’re ready.”
My heart races. I’m ready. I’m finally ready.
“See you then.”
After I get my homework done, I change for the night. I planned this outfit ages ago. It’s not anything crazy, just the outfit I wanted to wear to finally ‘lose it’. He loves me. I love him. I want him to be my first.
I get all dressed up in a special lace black bra and underwear.
Then, I slip into a black Henley shirt that makes my cleavage look amazing, and leggings.
Crispin bought me Ugg boots for the cold British weather and it’s finally not too damp to wear them.
At least this time we aren’t meeting outside.
I sneak out after check-in with my outfit and a hooded jacket to my car.
Another sweet ass gift from my family. I check the directions twice before driving out there.
The cottage sits less than ten miles away and as I approach, it looks familiar, like I’ve seen it in pictures before.
It’s small, quaint, and I recognize the white car outside as I pull up into the driveway.
He’s here. I rush out of my car to meet the man I love for the first time in what feels like so long. I can’t wait for what we’re about to do.
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