Page 59 of Promising You
“Whatever.”
He backs away. “I don’t think you can do it.”
“Do what?”
“I don’t think you can go even a day without talking about how much stuff costs or complaining about how much I’m spending. I think there needs to be consequences for you breaking your promise. Otherwise, you’ll just keep breaking it.”
I cross my arms across my chest. “Consequences? Like what?”
He takes a moment to consider it. “Like if you talk about money, you have to wear a skirt. Or some lingerie. Or you have to strip for me like you did in New York.”
I relax my arms. “I’d do those things for you anyway. That’s not a punishment. But if you want to say it is, then fine. I’ll agree to that.”
“Then we’ve got a deal.” He throws his hands in the air. “Finally. No more talk about money.”
I hug him. “I love you, Garret.”
“Really? I thought after that you’d be mad at me.”
“Nope. You piss me off with the money thing, but I still love you.”
“Ha! You brought it up again. You owe me a striptease. My room. Tonight.”
“But it was just a comment, not a complaint!”
“I heard the word ‘money.’ Enough said.”
I sigh. “Okay. Your room. Tonight. Did I tell you I’m not very good with keeping promises?”
“Yeah.” He smiles. “That’s why I made the consequences. I have a feeling you’ll be stripping a lot for me now.”
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
Tuesday morning,the first day of class, I wake up in Garret’s room to bright sunshine seeping through the curtains. I check the clock. 7:40. Shit! I have class at 8.
“Garret, get up.” I shove the covers off us and climb out of bed.
“What time is it?” he asks, still groggy.
“I overslept. I have class in 20 minutes. I gotta go. I’ll see you later.” I throw my sweatshirt on over my pajamas, then yank my shoe on but lose my balance and fall back on the bed.
Garret leans up to kiss me. “See you at lunch?”
“Not on Tuesdays and Thursdays, remember? You have class at noon and I have chem lab at 1.”
I hurry downstairs to my room and quickly change into jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt. I haven’t even packed my backpack for class. I’m so unprepared this semester—a side effect of spending all my time with Garret. Last semester, I was early to my first class and my backpack was neatly organized. Today I’m a total disaster. I’m not even clean. I probably smell like sex.
I need to get focused again. This semester I’m trying to get serious and figure out what I want to major in. I’m considering biology, even though last semester’s biology class wasn’t my favorite. But that’s because my idiot lab partner stuck me with all the work.
I’m still thinking of going to med school, but I haven’t told anyone this yet and I don’t plan to until I decide for sure. To help make that decision, I’m taking the classes my advisor said are typical of pre-med students; chemistry, physics, and microbiology. Those three classes will be tough, so I added some easier electives; sociology and European history. It’s a full schedule that will keep me buried in homework.
When I arrive at the science building at 8:05, my chem class has already started. Moorhurst is a small college so the classes never have more than 30 people. From my quick count, this one has about 25. Everyone turns and stares at me as I walk in. Luckily the professor is writing something on the board and doesn’t notice.
There’s an open seat in the last row so I quickly take it, quietly setting my backpack on the floor. Some guy I’ve never seen before is sitting next to me. I thought I knew everyone at this school, but this guy doesn’t even look familiar.
The professor picks up a thin booklet from his desk and holds it up. “Before we begin, open your lab books to page 10.”
I search my backpack for the lab book. It’s not in there. Of course, because I’m not prepared! That’s it. As soon I get back to my room, I’m getting organized.
