B: That’s a promise, Miss. Ricci. A very delicious promise.
Me: I look forward to it.
B: Coming around I see. I knew you were a smart girl.
Me: The smartest ;)
B: Study session at my house tomorrow 4:00. Be there or be square. You can show me how smart you really are.
Me: I’ll be there. See ya later, Romeo.
I sat in the cafeteria, intently focused on pieces of folded paper that were strewn about. Blake made them for me yesterday, but for some reason the information didn’t quite sink in the same when he wasn’t with me. I smiled softly, reminiscing on our afternoon.
Ringing my nervous fingers together, I crossed the threshold into Blake’s apartment. Without a glance at them, he took my hands in his and slid a hazelnut coffee between them. My body instantly lost its stiffness and a smile skimmed across my face at how easily he always relaxed me.
Guiding me to the dining table, where he already had books and notes sprawled out, I noticed his apartment was surprisingly tidy for a bachelor pad and secretly wondered if he was a neat freak or if it was for my benefit.
A slice of yellow tape caught my eye and I paused, looking down the hall. What I assumed was Blake’s bedroom door was cautioned “off limits”. I raised a questioning brow at him.
“Just taking the necessary precautions.” A smirk donned his gorgeous lips as he led me to my seat.
I laughed around my cup, loving his cute quirkiness and his ways of slipping himself under my skin every chance he got.
“Don’t be boring.”
Jace’s voice pulled me from my daydream as he plucked my study sheets from my fingers and threw them down.
“Hey, I need those.” I swiped my hands across the table, trying to put them back in order.
“You can have them back later, fuddy duddy.” Jace grabbed my notes once more and shoved them into his bag.
“You’re such a bad influence.” I stuck my bottom lip out in a pout.
“Hey, I gotta live up to my name. How can I be called the corrupter if I don’t cause any corruption? Where’s the fun in that?” He winked.
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered. “So what’re you up to besides ruining my academic career?”
“Although that sounds like loads of fun,” he rolled his eyes, “I actually missed your ass, though I’m starting to regret it already.”
“Oh stop. I missed you, too. I’ve just been busy.”
“Think fast,” was all I heard before an apple flew at me. I instinctively reached out and snatched it with one hand before it could bounce off my forehead.
Blake’s eyes were animated as he turned the chair next to me around and straddled it, crossing his arms over the back. “Nice catch. You play softball or something? Not many girls can catch one-handed.”
I dropped the apple to the table and scraped my palms on my thighs to try to rid them of the offending fruit. “That wasn’t at all sexist,” I said sarcastically. “No, I don’t play softball. I’m just talented. And why, might I ask, are you throwing food at my head?”
He grinned back. “I told you it’s my duty to feed you. You were looking a little frail sitting there, and I figured you could use a pick me up. You know what they say, an apple a day . . .”
Jace snorted out a laugh somewhere in the back of his throat. When I snapped my head in his direction and shot him a warning glare, he looked away, whistling. I glanced back at Blake. “For your information, I’m perfectly healthy. And I’d prefer to remain concussion free. Not exactly the softest object to throw, wouldn’t ya say, killer?”
“Sor-ry.” Blake put up his hands as if I’d offended him.
Jace and Blake fell into back and forth banter about something, but I couldn’t concentrate. The apple sat on the table, staring at me. I tried with all my might to hold a conversation and ignore it, but my eyes repeatedly wandered back to where it rested, taunting me with its shiny glare. The harder I tried to ignore it, the more I could feel my eyes itching to glance at it again.
My focus was now locked and I was trapped far away.
I’m sixteen and it’s Halloween. Quarters shoved into apples peek out of a basin of water that’s stained with murky costume makeup. I stare at the red, blue, and brown swirls, dreading my turn. That thing has to be unsanitary.
I wrap my hair into a knot and try to be conscious of the constraints of my Dorothy outfit. I hadn’t wanted to stand out, showing up to my first high school house party as a nun, and this was the least revealing of the assortment at the costume store. It seems they make everything slutty these days.