For the next two hours I worked on the algebra questions. I worked harder on them than I’d ever worked on anything, even though I knew that beyond high school, algebra was useless. Honestly, I’d never heard an adult say the words ‘polynomial’ or ‘integer’ or ‘quadratic equation.’ Ever.
I mean, yeah, I get the need for basic math, the kind I used in the kitchen (sometimes using pen and paper if I was doubling recipes) but this stuff? This stuff was for nerds only.
Being on my uncle’s entourage was sounding better and better...
I still had several questions left, but my brain was getting full and I was starting to feel cross-eyed, so I knew a break was in order. Anyway, I’d earned it. I grabbed my water bottle from the fridge and took a big swig as I looked around the dorm room. Kaylee was at the library working on a term paper (and leaving me to study undisturbed) so I had no one to chat to. My eyes drifted over to my bookshelf where rows of my favorite paperbacks stood, taunting me.
I have been studying for two full hours, I told myself. Not to mention the time before Shane texted me—that had to be a record since I’d arrived at Rosewood freshman year.
I totally deserved a little break. But grabbing one of my books meant my little break would turn into a big break that could last hours. Hours I couldn’t afford to lose. Especially when looking at my books made me think about the project Brooklyn and I were going to start: our own romance novel. The thought of it got me really excited because while I’d read a ton of romances, the thought of writing one—creating the perfect guy and making him do whatever I (or we, since I guess Brooklyn should have some input) wanted—sounded like a ton of fun. Second only to actual kissing.
Except we’d never get to write it if I flunked out and the dean sent me packing.
Suddenly motivated like crazy, I grabbed the laundry hamper Kaylee and I shared and emptied it out on the floor before I stacked every single novel I owned into it. Including the three that had just arrived that had yet to be read. My heart ached when I held them in my hands, sniffing the pages before setting them lovingly into the hamper. “I’ll get you back,” I promised the books as though they were babies I was putting into a basket to leave on church steps (something that incidentally happened sometimes to heroes in historical romance novels before they grew up to become hot alpha dukes determined to claim their birthright).
Once the hamper was full and weighed a thousand pounds, I opened the dorm room door and held it open with my foot as I dragged the hamper through and into the hall. Using my muscles that had thankfully healed after hauling five tons of food up from the cold cellar, I lugged the hamper down the hall to Brooklyn and Emmie’s room, knocking on the door as I huffed and puffed.
Brooklyn opened the door and her eyes went wide as she looked from me down to the hamper. “Hey. What’s all this?”
“Can you hold onto these for a while?” I asked, hoping I didn’t look as desperate and panicked as I felt.
“Of course,” she said, holding up her arm, gesturing for me to bring the hamper into her room. If she knew I was freaking out, she didn’t let on; just one of the reasons I liked her so much.
“You can read them,” I said, dragging the books in and looking around for the best place to put them. “I just...I can’t have them around while I’m trying to study.”
Brooklyn nodded in understanding. “I get it,” she said. “Don’t worry about it. Anyway, it’ll be good to have them around—maybe I’ll read a few so after mid-terms we can get started on our project.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. What was with all this stupid emotion all of a sudden?
“Just shove that in the bottom of the closet. Emmie just shipped out a bunch of gowns, so there should be room.”
“I think I need my hamper back,” I said. “I uh...dumped all our laundry on the floor.”
Her eyebrows went up but she didn’t say anything and simply started removing the books from the hamper and placing them on her bed. I loved her extra just then.
I sat down beside the pile of books and started separating them by genre. “These are historicals...contempora—.”
“What are we going to write?” she asked, like it was my decision. Although I guess of the two of us, I was the expert.
I looked down at the paperbacks and then back up to her. “I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it. The only thing that really matters is the happily ever after.”
“What’s your favorite genre?” she asked.
My gaze returned to the novels. There were the dark covers of the paranormals, the bodice-rippery historicals, hot dudes in suits (or shirtless) on the contemporaries. I loved them all. Did I have a favorite?
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, they all have their pros and cons.”
She nodded decisively. “All right. We have exams anyway, why don’t you think on it and I’ll read a few. Pick out your favorites in each genre and I’ll start with those.”
“You may as well ask a parent to pick their favorite child,” I said, scanning over the covers. But I really did have a few favorites, so I pulled them together and nodded toward them. “These. Hot guys, swoony romances, really hot kisses...and more.”
She smiled and said, “I look forward to living vicariously.”
I liked that she got it. We were the last of our friends to be single. Well, sort of single; I was still convinced that she was going to get with Brady, and I had Shane. Almost.
Speaking of, if I got more studying done, I’d take my next break down in the kitchen.
“I’d better go,” I said, getting up off her bed and grabbing the empty hamper. “I have some more studying to do.”
“How’s that going?” she asked as she followed me to the door and opened it for me.
“Better,” I said. “The tutoring is helping. A lot.”
She nodded, her eyes hopeful. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I guess I just need someone who can really explain it in a way that I get it. Not that you didn’t or aren’t good at explaining...” I added, trailing off when she smirked and put her hand on my arm.
“It’s okay, Celia. I get it. You needed someone objective.”
I blew out a relieved breath. “Exactly.”
“I’m so glad she’s helping you.”
I almost asked her who she meant by ‘she’ but then realized she meant my tutor, because she assumed—like I had—that it would be a girl.
I didn’t correct her, but didn’t exactly want to lie, so I just thanked her and left her room.
Back to studying.
~ ♥ ~
When Kaylee returned form the library, I was actually so focused on the algebra that her coming in the room scared me half to death.
“What?” she said, letting the door close behind her. “You look spooked.”
I shook my head. “Nothing. I was just really concentrating.”
“Sorry. I would have stayed later at the library but they kicked us out. There’s some sort of party there tonight.”
“That’s the one the dean’s holding. Some sort of fundraiser.” The one I should be cooking for, I didn’t say.
Kaylee came over and looked down at the pages in front of me. “That’s math,” she said, sounding surprised.
“Yes, it’s math. I told you I was studying today.”
She must have heard the edge in my voice because she sat down beside me on my bed. “I’m sorry, Celia. I shouldn’t have doubted you were taking this seriously.”
I shrugged, my anger diffusing quickly. “I’ve given you plenty of reason to doubt me being serious. But the dean freaked out and she’s very serious, so I figured I’d better be.”
She reached over and squeezed my hand. “I’m glad. I wish I could help you, but we both know how that would turn out. Whatever it takes to make sure you do better and stick around, though. I couldn’t bear even the thought of having to break in a new roommate.”
I gave her a smile because losing her would be one of the hardest parts of leaving Rosewood.
“So it’s working out with that guy?”
For a half a second I thought she was asking about Shane, but then realized she meant my tutor. “Oh, yeah. I mean, it’s just been the one time, but he’s—what?” I broke off and asked because she was looking at me funny.
“What do you mean just the one time? What happened today?”
Shoot. I put my algebra aside and scooted to the edge of my bed so I could grab my phone and fiddle with it. “I may have been late for today’s session.”
Her silence was worse than if she’d yelled at me. Finally, when it became obvious I wasn’t going to explain, she prodded. “What do you mean?”
I explained about Shane’s text and losing track of time.
I could feel her disappointment like a weight on my shoulders, but then she seemed to shake it off suddenly. “You know what? I just walked in here and you were studying, which I’m not sure has ever happened before. I think you are serious this time, so I’m sorry for being a cow.”
I would never admit how much her saying that meant to me, but my throat was tight so I simply leaned over and hugged her.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” she said, laughing. “You’re welcome. Come on, it’s almost time for dinner. I’m going to grab a shower; I’m meeting Declan in the lounge right after.”
“I’m going to go down now,” I said. “My brain is mush and I’m sure Shane could use a bit of help.”
I left the room and headed down the stairs, surprised when my brain returned to the algebra problem I’d been working on when Kaylee had come in. It was like it wanted to figure it out, which was a new thing. Whatever. I wasn’t about to question it.
When I got to the dining room, a few girls were scattered around at the long tables, using the room to study in. It was a bit noisy, but there was always coffee and snacks available, so if you were in it for the long haul, it’s not a bad place to be. I passed through to the kitchen, standing just inside the door to assess who was doing what and where I could best help out.
Like he’d heard me come in (not possible with everything going on) Shane looked up and smiled at me, waving me over to where he stood at the counter, arranging an antipasto platter. He sure loves his cured meats, I thought, making me smile.
“Hey,” I said as I approached. “I can help a bit. What do you need me to do?”
He looked around, surveying the counters full of trays and ingredients. “How about the deviled eggs? The filling’s made, I just haven’t had a chance to pipe and garnish them yet.”
“Got it,” I said, reaching for an apron. “Eggs are in the walk-in?”
He nodded. “Yeah. There’s more fresh basil and sundried tomatoes that need slicing for the garnish.”
I was about to tie my apron, but before I got the chance, Shane came toward me, so close I actually thought he was going to kiss me right there in the middle of the busy kitchen. But while he leaned toward me, it was only to grab the apron strings so he could tie them around my waist. I looked up at his face, wondering if he knew he’d just taken my breath away. He was smirking, so maybe he had a clue.
“Shane,” I whispered.
“Thanks for helping out, Sugar,” he said, his eyes drifting down to my mouth.
“You shouldn’t...” I said.
An eyebrow winged up as he looked at my eyes again. “Shouldn’t what?”
“I don’t know,” I said, feeling dumber than usual with him this close.
He glanced around before he said, so softly that I almost didn’t hear, “Did you think I was about to kiss you?”
“No,” I lied.
The corner of his mouth turned up, his hazel eyes dancing with mischief, making me both love and hate that he had me so rattled. “Well, I wasn’t,” he said, scanning his eyes around the busy kitchen. “I can’t kiss you in the middle of all this.”
“Of course not,” I agreed, because he was right, though I was still disappointed.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to,” he added.
I had no response for that, but just as well, as the kitchen door opened, bringing in some chatting girls. I glanced over and recognized them as fellow students who did their CSAs in the kitchen, though while I was there to cook, their assignments were to serve meals to the rest of the students. Most of them were freshman, some sophomores.
“Hey, Celia, Shane,” one of them said as she passed us.
“Sloan,” Shane said with a nod. “You’ll see tonight’s dinner on the board. Just a simple service tonight—we’re busy with the dean’s party.”
The girls nodded and as one went over to the rack and took down their serving aprons and I suddenly felt smug about how Shane had tied mine on. Except that now, with more people in the kitchen there was even less chance I was going to get kissed.
“Celia?” Shane said, bringing my attention back to him. “I need those eggs.”
I nodded and began to turn toward the walk-in fridge when I heard him say under his breath, “Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.”
My back was already to him, so I didn’t have to hide my smile.