Chapter 6 Hey, Baby, You Eighteen?
SIX
HEY, BABY, YOU EIGHTEEN?
SARAH
UNKNOWN
Hi Sarah! Mona gave me your number for tutoring. Are you still available?
I am. When can you meet?
It’s short notice, but does now work for you?
I glanced down at my trash bag dress and laughed. We’d been getting ready for an anything but clothes party, and there was no way I wanted to cut myself out of the intricate neon duct tape and plastic bag creation only to recreate it later.
Why not go to the student union in frat party finery?
Sure. Meet you in 10. I’ll be the blond wearing a trash bag.
UNKNOWN
Also blond, also wearing garbage. Wild. See you there.
I chuckled and rushed down to the living room. “Hey! That freshman texted about tutoring. I’m meeting him at the SUB. I’ll see you guys at the Gamma house later.”
Mona nodded, ripping another piece of neon pink duct tape off the roll. “Bye!”
“Newspaper was a bad idea,” Kat said, lifting her tattooed arm so she could get a better look at the black smudges on the inside of her elbow.
Mona laughed and added another piece of tape to the Xena-esque chest plate.
Racing down the shaky back steps, I avoided the spot where Emma had fallen.
Despite their best efforts, the landlord hadn’t been able to get all the blood out of the gravel, so they just poured new gravel on top.
In the middle of the worn gravel parking lot, the new rocks stood out just as badly as the blood.
The setting sun behind the row of run-down houses offered flashes of warm light in the gaps between buildings. Morning rain showers had broken the terrible humidity we’d had all week, so the trip to the Student Union Building was actually pleasant.
Walking into the massive SUB, I first checked the general sitting area, but there was no blond in a garbage dress.
I went across the hall to the food court, and there, sitting in the middle of a crowd of other people, was a blond guy in a red shirt.
He looked familiar, but I was sure I didn’t know him.
Then another blond guy popped into my head, and I swatted the errant thought away.
I was starting to worry that all blond guys would make me think about Connor.
That’s so unfair to the rest of the blond, male population.
I stood a table away and kept my eyes locked on who I assumed was my pupil as he went still. The guys around him noticed and slowly went silent. Based on their baby faces, it was obviously a table of freshmen. “Freshman?”
He put his hand on his chest. “Jamie.” He muttered something under his breath that made the guys closest to him burst into laughter and nod.
“So.” I flipped my wrist.
He gathered some wrappers. “Shit, sorry.” Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he waved at his table of bros and tossed his trash. We went across the hall to where there were couches, chairs, and tables for studying. “What’s with the dress?” He gave me a confused smile as he sat.
I took the chair across from him and tactfully crossed my legs.
Should’ve gone with four extra-large bags.
“I’m going to an ABC party after this.” He frowned in confusion, so I added, “An anything but clothes party.”
His brown eyes drifted down my body, and he nodded. “Gotcha.”
“So, what do you need help with?”
He shook his head, pulling out a folder and handing it to me. “I messed up the first quiz. Apparently, I don’t show my work right.”
Letting out a low whistle, I went over the quiz that had a big red D on the front. “You have Dr. Slash.”
“Yeah, and they’re already kicking my ass.”
I looked over every page and noted the comments written in red. “Good news is, I’ve taken this class with them. Bad news is you’ve got a lot of work to do.”
“I’m more than ready.”
“I don’t want to sound condescending, but you reaching out now was smart.”
Jamie smiled, pleased with the praise. “Failure isn’t an option, so I called in the big guns.”
I flexed my bicep, kissing the tiny bump of muscle there. “Thank you for noticing.”
“How could anyone miss it?”
I liked this kid. He was effortlessly confident, something I wished I would’ve had at any point in my life.
“Can I see your syllabus?”
Another minute of paper shuffling, and he handed me a wrinkled packet. “Sorry about that. I usually check it online, so that’s been living in the bottom of my backpack for the past couple of weeks.”
“No problem.” I flattened the page out, looking for the next assignment’s due date. “Perfect. You have another week before your next quiz. We can work on the practice set together and make sure you don’t get another D.”
“Awesome. Dr. Slash is letting us redo the first quiz for any grade below a C. Could we start there and work up to the next assignment?”
“Sounds good.”
Jamie eyed my dress. “Are you going to be comfortable in that? We can do this tomorrow if that works better.”
I adjusted the non-breathable material, ignoring the sweat pooling in my bra and panties. “I’m good.”
“If you say so.” Jamie leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Before we start, can I get you a coffee?”
“A latte would be great.” Digging in my purse, I found a few bucks. “Here you go.”
He stepped away, shaking his head. “My treat.”
Shrugging, I dropped the money back in my bag. I no longer refused free coffees. I couldn’t afford to. “Fine, but don’t think you won’t be paying me in cash for the tutoring too.”
“Obviously.”
We spent an hour reworking the problems, properly showing his work in the way Dr. Slash wanted.
“So, why don’t you give this set a go by Tuesday? That’ll give us a few days to go over it and study for the next quiz?”
“I can do that.”
“Great.” I closed Jamie’s textbook and slid it toward him. “Well, I’m going to head out. You have my number. Use it if you’re having trouble.”
Jamie opened his mouth, then closed it, his cheeks turning pink.
Squinting, I pointed at his face. “What just happened there?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Nothing.”
“No, now you have to tell me.”
“I was going to hit on you, but then I remembered the whole ‘don’t shit where you eat’ thing and stopped myself.”
“I appreciate you refraining from shitting near me. I didn’t specify that as one of my conditions for tutoring, but I’ll be sure to add it for future pupils.”
Shaking his head, Jamie smiled, his eyes crinkling. “I like you.”
“I like you too. Now I’m going to leave, and you’re going to get to work. At least that’s the lie I’m telling myself.”
“I will absolutely be working on this problem set and not going to a party.”
“Good boy.” I patted his arm and turned to leave.
“It’s already dark. Can I walk you to the party?”
I glanced over my shoulder and said, “Nah. I’m not going far. I’ll be all right.”
Jamie’s face twisted in concern, his mouth opening and closing until he shook his head and said, “Okay. But text me when you get there?”
“Aye, aye, Captain!” I gave him a half ass salute and left the SUB.
Oh, I should have let Jamie walk me to the Gamma party. Instead, I took my phone out and was so busy texting Olivia that at the corner of Franklin and Normal, I ran straight into the broad, muscled back of Connor.
He, of course, turned around, frowning.
Holding my hands up, I said, “I’m so sorry.” I took two big steps backward, making some space between us. “I—” My heel went off the curb, catching on a crack in the concrete. For a split second, I thought I was about to fall into the street and be run over.
With reflexes I would never possess, Connor caught my elbow, yanking me from certain injury and into his warm chest. “Watch where you’re going,” he spat out, wrapping his burly arms tightly around me.
His heart raced under my ear as he curved around my body, shielding me from the street. I could only imagine how we looked—me done up like some dystopian whore, and him in his simple t-shirt and perfectly fitting jeans.
The traffic light changed, but Connor didn’t let go.
“Uh,” I murmured into the cotton of his t-shirt. He smelled fresh out of the shower, and I wondered where he was going.
Cars drove past, their headlights illuminating our embrace, every new high beam counting off the seconds until Connor came to his senses.
Why is he still holding me?
A big, shiny, black pickup honked, setting off a chain reaction of the other cars honking. The light turned red, and the catcalls started.
“Get a room!”
“Kiss her!”
“Hey, baby, you eighteen?”
Connor let out a deep sigh and let me go, much to the disappointment of our audience. “Where are you going in such a hurry?” he asked through the booing.
The light turned green, and I waved as our fans pulled away.
“The Gamma house on Davis. It’s an anything but clothes party,” I said, gesturing down to my little black trash bag number.
“It doesn’t matter how many of these parties I go to, I always forget how sweaty these trash bag dresses get.
” Connor’s eyes traveled down to the duct tape hem I’d added for a little flair.
“But I guess it’s better than being sweaty and covered in ink.
Last ABC party, I wore a cardboard box, and—”
“I need to get to the Welkum,” Connor interrupted, glancing at his watch. Adjusting the worn black band, he looked over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
Talk about whiplash.
When he started walking, I didn’t follow. He made it all the way to Kum & Go a block down before he noticed. Hands on his hips, he shouted, “Come on. I don’t want to be late for my shift.”
My feet moved without my permission. “What’s that have to do with me?” I said when I caught up, confused by his demanding tone.
Connor frowned, reaching his hand out only to let it drop to his side. “I don’t like the idea of you running around Kirksville in the dark.”
I rolled my eyes and walked past him. “It’s not like I’ll get lost.”
“Yeah, but you might not make it where you’re going alive.”