Creeping into his room, I wince as the floorboards creak once I’m over the threshold. Which is ridiculous. He’s not home. He won’t be home for hours. I could stomp in here like King Kong and it wouldn’t matter. I don’t know why I’m trying to be sneaky or stealthy. Habit, I guess. When you Pig someone in the locker room, you have to be quick and quiet so they don’t catch you, hoping the other guys don’t give it away with their giggling. I’ve gotten caught a few times since it started, but not at all this season or last.
I wrinkle my nose at the evidence of Ellie spending time in his room as I scan for a good hiding spot for Piggy. I really need to get over my hangup about them. I know it. But seeing one of her cardigans hanging over the back of his desk chair and a stack of her books sitting on his nightstand makes it obvious that they’re in here banging at every opportunity. And regardless of who she’s dating, I don’t want any reminders of my sister’s sex life. At least no bras are dangling from the lampshades.
As I tuck Piggy under the corner of Simon’s pillow, my phone vibrates in my pocket. A jolt of adrenaline shoots through me. Could Piper be texting me back?
I pull out my phone as I leave Simon’s room, careful to leave the door cracked as much as it was before I entered, and a strange lightness fills my chest at the sight of Piper’s name on my screen. While I’d like to tell myself I’m only this excited because it means I’m a step closer to regaining my spot as the starting quarterback, I’m not in the habit of lying to myself.
The idea to do this was a mix of anger at Simon dating my sister, a desire to get back at Kilpatrick somehow, and also because Piper’s fucking hot and I wouldn’t mind getting with her anyway. After that kiss last week? That part’s quickly climbing the priority list and edging out the revenge fantasy. Or it was last week. Then this weekend when she never responded to my text and I had to spend more time with her brother, the revenge fantasy started winning again.
With her finally responding, well, hot Piper is in the lead again. I can’t wait to get my hands and tongue and other body parts on her. In a more private location. If I weren’t holding my phone, I’d rub my hands together in anticipation.
But when I unlock my phone to actually read her text, that lightness bursts, my stomach plunging.
Piper: This is a really busy week
That is not the answer I was expecting.
Narrowing my eyes, I open up my contacts and tap on her name. I have an easier time convincing people to see things my way over the phone than I do over text. A fact that my sister has caught on to, so now she won’t take my calls if she thinks I want something. She sends me to voicemail and texts me back. Or pretends her phone is dying or she can’t get a signal. Little brat.
Piper, however, is unaware of those ridiculous tricks. Or maybe she just wants to talk to me, because she answers on the second ring. That thought makes me smile.
“I’m in the middle of writing a paper,” she says by way of greeting.
“Take a break.”
She blows out a frustrated breath. “It’s due tomorrow.”
“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take a break. Let me take you to dinner. You’ll be refreshed when you get back to your paper.”
“Dani and I have already ordered dinner,” she says. “Taking a break with you would mean I don’t have time to finish my paper tonight, plus I have five chapters to read by tomorrow.”
I grunt, mulling over my response. I’m not sure I’m going to be able to win this one if she really has that much work to do. “Did you put off all your homework until tonight just to have an excuse not to see me?” I ask before I can think better of it.
She lets out a disbelieving chuckle. “Wow.”
“Wow?” I’m pacing the living room, my rising frustration not letting me sit still. “You’re the one who seems like she’s trying to get out of a bet.”
“Oh my god, Cal. I hate to be the one to break it to you—actually no, no I don’t. I’mthrilledto inform you that the world does not in fact revolve around you, your desires, or your schedule. I’m taking twenty-one hours this semester. I literally have a paper, project, or test due every other day from now until finals week. I’m busy.”
My jaw works as I mull that over, both annoyed and turned on by the attitude she’s throwing my way. And annoyed that I’m this turned on. I usually like chicks who are upfront about what they want—and what they want is me. We have mutual amounts of fun and pleasure, and then we go our separate ways. It’s easy and drama free.
And now I’ve gone and entangled myself with this chick who can’t seem to decide if she wants me or not. Or, that’s not true. She definitely wants me, but she’s trying to deny herself for some reason. Maybe it’s because she knows her brother and I don’t get along.
But I feel like bringing him up right now would backfire on me.
I let out a slow breath, trying to decide on the best tactic. But before I can say anything, she sighs again, this time sounding more resigned and less frustrated.
“Look, I promise I will go out with you. But tonight’s not gonna happen. Thursday is always booked. Pick another night, and I’ll make it work.”
Tamping down the swoop of elation her words evoke, I pick, “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” she squeaks. “How about Tuesday?”
I’m not gonna back down on this, though. “You told me to pick a night and that you’d make it work. You just said that.” I’ve been waiting for days. I’m not willing to wait a second longer than absolutely necessary. “Besides, if youliterallyhave something every other day, and you have a paper due tomorrow, that means your next major thing shouldn’t be until Wednesday.”
She sighs again. “Fine. Tomorrow it is. My last class ends at four, but I have a bunch of reading to get through. Pick me up at six, and no keeping me out all night.”
“I promise to have you back at a reasonable hour.” It’s not ideal, but I can make it work. I’ll just have to make the most of the time I have. And if it’s not enough to get through everything on my list, I should at least be able to make it good enough for her to want an encore.
