Chapter Ten #2
A picture comes through a few moments later. The picture is clear but the handwriting on the page is basically a scribble. Kennedy writes her notes by hand, she says it’s her secret for not needing to study much.
I look at the picture again, struggling to make words out of what I’m looking at.
I know I’m a little tipsy, but I can’t read this.
Not even a little bit. There are familiar multi-colored doodles in the margins, words in half print and half cursive, and the notes don't seem to follow any type of structure.
Things are circled and linked together with other circles via random squiggles.
I scan her notes for a second, deciphering her print, zooming in on all the random scribbles before I say, “Liam,” and turn the phone in his direction, “can you read this?”
He pauses the game, grabbing the phone from my hand, squinting his eyes, stretching his arm out in front of him like a grandpa before pulling the phone back close to his face. “No man, this is horrible. Who wrote that, a Russian Doctor?”
Adrian, now having a piqued interest in what we’re looking at, grabs it. He also looks confused. He double taps the screen and zooms in. “I think this says, events and horizons?” That makes no sense. He tosses me my phone back so he and Liam can continue their drinking game.
Will: Do you expect me to be able to read this? Those are not words
Kennedy: How dare you insult me this way?! I share my notes with you out of the goodness of my heart and you call my handwriting illegible? Not words?!
Kennedy: See if I’ll ever send my beautiful, color coded, and incredibly legible notes to you again
I’m smiling into my phone. I can almost hear her fake outrage and picture her pretend serious face. I’m imagining her squinting her eyes at me and trying to hold back a smile.
Will: You’re right. My deepest apologies. These may be the best notes I have ever seen. I see a lot of words here.
Kennedy: Thank you. I’m glad you’ve seen the error of your ways and recognized my superior note taking abilities
Will: You’re absolutely correct. These are superior notes. It must be my eyes. I think I’m developing some sort of disease or something making it hard to read
Kennedy: Will!! Are you serious? They are not that bad!
Will: I know, It's me. It's my eyes. They’re decrepit old man eyes. I think I might need you to come over and read them to me
Will: Purely for ocular health reasons, of course
Kennedy: Of course
I think I might be flirting with her, and I think she might be flirting back.
And I think I like it. Little typing bubbles pop up and then disappear at the bottom of my screen.
I’m feeling oddly nervous about how she’s going to respond to my invitation to come over.
My phone vibrates in my hand and the low place in my belly is doing that clenching thing again.
Kennedy: Okay. I can be there in like an hour?
Shit. Kennedy is coming over here, to this apartment, in an hour.
Holy shit, I just invited Kennedy over and she said yes.
Adrian and Liam are getting close to black out, I'm four beers deep, and our apartment is a disaster. “Guys, we need to pick up the shit everywhere. I’m having a girl come over.”
“Oh, fuck. Okay,” Liam says. Under the impression this is a girl I’m bringing over, not Kennedy.
He pauses the game and starts to gather up empty crushed cans of beer in his arms. Adrian heads into the kitchen and starts unloading the dishwasher so he can load the dishes in the sink.
I probably should tell them it's Kennedy and not someone else, but instead I heart react to her text message and head into the bathroom to clean it.
Will: Perfect, I was really worried about my eyes. I’m glad I’ll have a professional like you here to make sure I’m not going blind.
Adrian and Liam are useless drunks. The apartment is nowhere near clean, but at least the literal trash is not on the floor. It's been a little over an hour since she texted me and I’m feeling strangely worried that she's going to bail.
“I’ll get it!” Liam says before running to the door.
I didn’t even hear a knock. He opens the door, stepping to the side while Kennedy stands there, a backpack slung over her shoulder wearing a tiny little blue workout dress.
I’ve seen these dresses at the gym or at the golf course and never had a reaction to them before, but on her it looks provocative with its thin little straps and super short skirt that shows off a lot of leg.
It's the middle of October, is she not freezing?
“Oh, hey, Kennedy,” Liam says, holding out a hand, inviting her in and closing the door behind her.
Liam gives me a conspiratorial look over her shoulder at the same time Adrian’s head snaps in my direction. “Kennedy?” he whispers.
“It's not like that,” I say back. She walks into the living room and I stand up from the couch, throwing my arms around her until she steps into my chest.
“Yeah, okay,” Adrian says.
I never noticed before how she’s the perfect height. Her arms hit perfectly around my middle, the top of her head hitting just under my nose; her forehead’s at the perfect height to press my lips against without having to bend down. What the fuck?
I drop my arms so I can step away from her, then bend down to grab her backpack from the floor, grateful for something to do with my hands that doesn’t involve touching her in any capacity. “Do you want a beer? We also have a few hard ciders if you want that?”
“Yeah, a cider’s good,” she says. She looks around the apartment and I feel like I’m being inspected the way she takes in the room.
I watch her profile as her eyes land on the overflowing trash, piled high with crushed beer cans.
She follows me into the kitchen, hanging back a few feet while I open the fridge.
I move a few things around until I can find the hard ciders we have hidden in the back, handing it to her before I reach in and grab a new one for myself, then think better of it and put mine back.
“Come on,” I say, leading her toward my bedroom.
I completely ignore the looks Adrian and Liam are throwing me from the couch.
I hear her following behind me and have to remind myself not to turn around to look at her.
She closes the door behind her before striding across my room to pull out the chair at my desk.
I fall back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling trying to remind myself that us being alone right now is about studying, but my dick doesn’t seem to get the memo.
She wastes no time in pulling out her notes, her laptop, and some other supplies.
I have a feeling she’s purposely avoiding looking at me as I watch her getting everything ready on the desk before her.
She licks her lips, absently, making my dick twitch.
Kennedy looks so good right now. Hot, more than hot, she looks stunning.
The only explanation I can come up with for finding her embarrassingly attractive must be because I’ve conditioned myself into being turned on anytime a girl’s in my room.
Because since when have I been attracted to Kennedy?
At the library with her cold hands, my brain supplies instantly.
Every time you see her for class, my brain supplies again. When she straddled you at the pool.
Her straddling my lap has tormented me for nearly a month, causing me to get random boners at the worst times. I can’t think about her straddling me right now. I definitely can’t think about what her mouth was doing while she was straddling me. Focus. She’s here for school not for anything else.
“Let’s get started,” she says over her shoulder, tossing her hair, before leveling me with a look, “I hope you know I’m making you work on your personal statement today, too.”
“Ugh, noooooo,” I actually groan. I grab one of my pillows from behind my head and toss it at her face. She blocks it easily enough.
She leans back against the chair, crossing her arms and nodding her head, “Yes. You’re getting this done whether you like it or not.
” She throws the pillow back at me and gives me her fake outrage look.
The one with the squinty eyes and her pretending not to smile.
My stomach clenches, she’s so fucking pretty.
“Fine. But you should know I’m a little drunk and I’m going to complain about it the whole time.”
She lets out a laugh, “that’s alright. Now come on.”