“One, and it wasn’t even a real date,” I answer.
“I crashed and burned before I even asked her out,” Dean-o admits.
“See? In the land of the blind, the cyclops is king.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “I am pretty sure that’s not how the phrase goes,” I tell him.
“The hell it doesn’t,” Van scoffs. “I know things. Not like, geography or calc or literature,” he says, eyeing the stack of books next to him, “but things. Like, life things.”
“Are you gonna be our life coach?” I ask.
“Nah, but only because I’ll be too busy studying my ass off just to pass my damn classes. And if I don’t get my shit together soon, Coach is gonna put me in tutoring again. So, this is me, officially shutting up and getting to work.”
We study in silence for a while, which is good, because I get all of my reading done for my class on ancient civ. And I manage to knock out the few remaining problems I had left on my stats homework. I’m pretty productive, but the whole time an idea is brewing in the back of my head. I can’t quite put it into words, but the solution to my problem is on the tip of my tongue.
Dean-o closes his book and tosses it in his backpack as Van stands and stretches. “I’m pretty sure I’m broken,” Van says.
“Um, broken?” I ask. Injuries happen all the time, and some are harder to diagnose than others, but Van seemed fine an hour and a half ago.
“Yeah, like my brain has a crack in it or something. I studied my notes and reread the chapter. Then I took the quiz at the end and bombed it. There’s no way I’m gonna pass this class, which means Coach is gonna sign me up for sessions at the tutoring center. Great—more pointless studying. Awesome. Can’t fucking wait.” He grumbles as he grabs his bag and leaves. I feel for the guy. I mean, school has always come pretty easy to me, but I definitely know what it’s like to feel like you’re behind the curve—like everybody gets it but you. Yeah, my classes are easy, but my drunk-ass date with Mel proves that intelligence only gets you so far. You can be smart and also be a dumbass.
And that’s when it hits me. Van’s not the only one who needs tutoring. All those weeks ago, Cheslie told me I needed lessons in the bedroom. She wasn’t wrong—I definitely do. And I know the perfect person to give them to me. Now, I just need to convince her.
17
Will
Drip is fairly quiet when I walk in, but it’s mid-morning on a Tuesday and I’d bet half the student body is still sleeping.
I spotMel right away because, let’s face it, she’s hard to miss. Even in jeans, a gray tee, a visor, and an apron, she’s stunning. Her hair is piled high on her head, not down in waves like Friday night. She’s beautiful and smart and capable as fuck, and it makes me doubt what I’m even doing here in the first place.
But then it’smy turn to order, so I step up to the counter and ask the barista, Theo, for an iced cinnamon oat milk latte. I scan my app, and step to the side, summoning my courage.
Mel makes my drink and turns to place it on the counter. A momentary look of surprise crosses her face, but she schools her features into a polite smile pretty quickly.
“Hey, how’re you feeling?”
“A lot better than Friday night,”I tell her honestly.
“Good,”she says, offering that same polite smile. It’s clear our transaction is over, but I came here on a mission, and I need to get my ass in gear.
“Hey,Mel, wait—do you, um, have a second?” I ask, motioning toward a table by the window. “Could we talk?”
I can see the “no”before she says it, but just as she opens her mouth, Theo, the guy at the register, butts in. “Mel, it’s time for your half. See you in thirty minutes.” He’s smiling broadly while she shoots him a glare.
“Yeah, I guess I can talk,”she says, hanging her visor and apron on a hook and rounding the corner.
We settle into a table,and I bang my knees as I pull my chair forward. “Shit,” I mutter.
“These tables aren’t madefor behemoths,” she tells me, and now it’s my turn to smile.
“Tellme something I don’t know.”
We sitin awkward silence for a second. Theo interrupts momentarily to drop off a frothy coffee for Mel, clearly a peace offering. She takes it and sips, waiting for me to start talking, which is fair, considering I’m the one who wanted to talk in the first place.
“Look,I’m sorry to bug you at work, but I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“You already have.”
