As sweet as his offer is, caffeine is the last thing I need. I know from experience that if I get a burst of energy now, I’ll never find peaceful sleep tonight. “I’m okay,” I tell him, holding up my water bottle. “I’m just going to hydrate and focus.” And cross my fingers, but I leave that part out.
“You know what you need?” he asks, pulling back from the desk and standing up. “A change of scenery. Are you in?”
“Uh…”
***
Ty
For a minute, I’m afraid she won’t come along with me. And I can’t blame her. She’s tired AF, I’m usually an ass, and she has a paper due.
“C’mon,” I coax. “A walk might wake you up. Besides, I assure you this is content-related.”
At that, she smiles. “Are we going to England? I may have to call off work, but it would be worth it.”
“Not quite, but you won’t be disappointed.”
“Excellent,” she says. “Lead the way.”
We walk through campus, passing dozens of other people all going about their days. Professors in suits are hurrying along the path, there’s a pick-up basketball game over on the outdoor courts by the Student Union. And couples are freaking everywhere. Maybe love is in the air or maybe this is the first time I’m noticing it, but more than half the people we see are holding hands. My palm itches to reach for hers, but I refrain. Hell, we’re barely friends. The fact that I’m crushing hard is on me and I need to rein that shit in. I shouldn’t even be taking her to my favorite campus spot, but I can’t resist. And something tells me Phoebe could use this place.
We bear left just before we reach the art building.
“I don’t think there’s anything back here,” she tells me.
“Trust me,” I say, meaning those words in every conceivable way.
“Ok…” she says, following me, but clearly unconvinced.
We walk for a bit and when we’re close, I turn to her and smile. “Check this out.” I nod up ahead at the canopy of trees.
“Oh my gosh, it’s like a tree tunnel.”
“That’s exactly what it is, but look to your left.” And just there, as we crest the slight hill of the path we’re on, we reach our destination.
“Wait, is that a freaking waterfall?” she asks.
“That’s it exactly. A freaking waterfall. Worth the walk, right?”
“Totally.”
“To be fair, it’s not much of a waterfall, but I always thought it was cool,” I say, leading her to a pair of tree stumps. We take a seat and watch the waterfall, small though it may be, rush into the brook below.
“This is amazing,” she says. “And conspicuously absent from the tour you gave me.”
“It’s not on anyone’s tour. I think of it as my spot, even though I’m sure a few other people have been here. I love this campus, don’t get me wrong, but this is for sure my favorite place.”
“I can see why. It’s like something out of a fairy tale.”
“I’m glad you like it,” I tell her honestly. “And now, for the textually accurate portion of our afternoon, I present…” I throw my hoodie on the ground as a makeshift blanket, and pull a crushed pack of Pop-Tarts from my bag.
“It’s the picnic at Boxwood!” She squeals with delight and my day--no, my whole damn week--is made.
“See? You are totally getting this stuff. Because this,” I point at my shirt and crumbled snack, “is a pathetic picnic.”
“It’s kind of wonderful,” she tells me, sitting down on my sweatshirt. “Now, tell me something clever,” she requests in a terrible British accent. It’s so bad I wince, but I’m smiling.
“All right...something clever… let’s see...got it. Dreamt is the only word in the English language that ends in the letters ‘mt.’”
