“I’m just walking in the library. I’ll let you go dance in the rain or something.”
“No, wait. I called to ask you about today. What did you think? Do you think she likes me?”
“Yes, Riley, I do. She laughed and smiled when you were talking to her. When you wrote Riley in glue on her arm and covered it with glitter she practically swooned. And she wouldn’t have come to lunch with just us or kissed you on the cheek if she didn’t like you.”
“But what about the guy from home?”
“I heard they aren’t going out. So let her figure that out. If she likes you, he’ll be history.”
“But what if I’m history instead?”
“Speaking of history, you need to work on the script for our project tonight or I’m not letting you copy my worksheets any more.”
“Answer my question first.”
“I think she needs to see you shirtless. She won’t care about any other boy.”
Riley makes a satisfied noise. “I do have a good chest.”
“Yes, you do.”
“So how am I going to get her to see it?”
“I was sort of joking, Riley. Text her tonight. Be sweet. No player lines whatsoever. You understand me?”
“Yes, Mom.”
I find Aiden sitting in the back corner of the library. It seems to be becoming our corner. It’s behind some stacks and one of the more private tables in the library. He told me it was so we could quietly talk without bothering anyone.
I think he’s just trying to be sneaky.
Like maybe there is some time warp, or a valley of the gods under a secret seal below the carpet. Maybe the table rests on it, and when he needs his aura recharged by the gods, he just sneaks down there. Or maybe he goes down there to see his mother, Aphrodite. Come to think of it, that’s probably why Aiden messes with me, he’s got that spitefulness of his mother, who thinks love is some cruel, manipulatable game.
Whatever.
Okay. Tutor face on.
“Hey, Boots,” he says to me. “How was your weekend?”
“It was good. Really good.”
“Good for you. Okay, so, I don’t get this at all.”
We go over the workbook pages, and I start to think maybe he does need to go get his aura recharged or something because he doesn’t make fun of me and Dawson. He doesn’t slam me in any way.
“What’s wrong with you?” I finally ask.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re being nice to me. It’s kinda scary.”
“I’m always nice to you.”
I look at him, eyebrows raised, calling bullshit.
“I just thought it would be nice if we could try and be friends, so I guess, yes, I’m trying to be nice.”
“That’s cool.”
“Well, it may be cool, but it sucks. I wanna hear your weekend with Dawson sucked. I want to be tutored in my room, so we can have some privacy. I also want you to stop flipping your ponytail around. Your hair smells like cotton candy and it reminds me of the stupid Ferris wheel.”
“Ha! There’s the Aiden I know and love.”
He cocks his head at me and grins. “You love me?”
“It’s just an expression. It doesn’t mean anything.”
He leans a little closer toward me. Thank God there is a table separating us.
“Still, there are lots of expressions out there. You picked that one. You’re just trying to tell me you love me, it’s okay. I already know.”
My phone buzzes on the table and up pops a text.
Dawson: I miss you </3. Will die if I don’t get a kiss before bed.
Aiden reads it. “Wow, if only it were that easy.”
“What?”
“I vote for letting him die.”
“Oh my gosh! You are so mean! I think my work here is done anyway.” I pat his shoulder and say the words he did to me after the dances. “See ya later, Aiden.”
My heart mated with his.
9:22pm
As I’m walking over to Dawson’s dorm for a quick good night kiss, I get a text from Aiden.
Hottie God: I miss you </3. Will die if you don’t meet me in my dorm room.
Me: I’ll be right there, baby.
Me: Bahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!
Hottie God: You’ll be sad when I’m dead.
Me: Doubtful, I’ll have more free time. Actually, I do have something I want to talk to you about, if you promise to be nice. Five minutes in your room?
Hottie God: I’ll be there :)
I go kiss Dawson for about six minutes straight and try to keep him from attacking me for the millionth time this weekend.
Not that I minded at all. This weekend was amazing. It really was.
I say goodbye then run up to Aiden’s room and knock on the door.
“Entrer,” he says, using the French word for enter. “So, I turned on the twinkle lights just for you. Just getting ready to start the iPod. I think you owe me something like ten dances.”
“If you’ll do something for me, I’ll give you your dances.”
He’s taken aback by my agreement. “Uh, sure, what?”
“Look, I’m being nice to you and spending an awful lot of time helping you with French. In return for that, I got on what was supposed to be the very cool Social Committee.”