“Uh-huh.” She waited as I hurried to catch up to her. “So, do you want to maybe study together sometime?”
I cheered inside my head, and had to stop myself from throwing my fist in the air and doing a victory dance.
“Definitely. I could use the help,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. I knew damn well that I was doing perfectly fine in that class, but if she thought I needed help, she wouldn’t bail on me.
“Okay, good. I always do better if I have a study partner.”
My mind whirled at her words. How many study partners had she had? How could I convince her to only study with me?
I could have sworn that before Jack’s antics with her roommate that Melissa and I were on track toward something. I couldn’t help but want us to get back on that road, wherever it was leading.
“Can I get your number?” I asked while I still had the nerve.
“Oh yeah, of course.” She recited her phone number while I tapped it into my phone. “Send me a text so I have yours too.”
I did as she asked.
Dean: Hi. It’s me. You know, Dean. The other Carter.
When her phone pinged and she read the text, she laughed. “Got it. I’ll just put you in here as the Other Carter.”
“Or the only Carter you like,” I suggested with a smirk, and she smiled back.
“That’d work too.”
“All right. I’ll talk to you later. You know, to set up studying and stuff,” I said, stumbling all over my damn words.
“‘Bye, Dean.” Melissa laughed as she sashayed away.
• • •
When Jack walked through the front door that afternoon, I shot out of my room and walked into his, and plopped onto his bed to wait for him.
He walked in and tossed his bag on the floor. “What are you doing in here?”
“I wanted to know if she said yes or not.”
I didn’t want to tell him that I’d been dying to hear what happened with Cassie after her class. Sure, I could have used it as an excuse to text Melissa and ask her, but I decided to wait for my brother to get home from practice and hear it from him.
“Of course she said yes.”
When Jack smirked, I grabbed his mini basketball and shot it at the net attached to the back of his door. I missed.
“Did you really ask her out in front of everyone?”
“I had to. She’s stubborn.”
“What’d you say?”
I shot the ball again. Damn. Another miss.
“I told her she only had to go out with me one time and if she hated it, I’d leave her alone forever. Something like that.”
He waved a hand at me like it was no big deal, but I knew the truth. Jack didn’t date, and this was definitely a date. And without a doubt, it was a big deal.
“That honestly worked on her?”
“I think she just wanted me to shut up. But it worked, and I took the win.” He shrugged. “Speaking of, when are you going to ask out that feisty little fun-sized roommate of hers?”
I swallowed hard. “Melissa?”
The ball rolled back to me, and I attempted another shot. Missed again.
“No, Matilda the Hun. Yes, Melissa.” He shot me a knowing glance. “She likes you, you know.”
“I don’t know. She’s flirty, but then she’s not. I can’t read her at all. But I got her number today, so we’ll see.”
“Good. Make sure you use it. Now get out of here so I can take a shower.”
Jack picked up the little basketball and tossed it at my head.
He didn’t miss.
Ball of Nerves
Jack yelled for me, I stopped what I was doing to go see what he wanted. But when I stepped into his room, I didn’t see him anywhere. Then his closet door popped open and he stepped out, buttoning up his shirt.
“I can’t believe she said yes,” he said as he finished getting dressed.
“Bullshit,” I said, calling his bluff. “You said you weren’t going to let her say no.”
“I know,” he said with a shrug, and averted his eyes. “But now that she’s said yes, what if she hates me and never lets me see her again?”
I snorted. “She won’t.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because you’re actually taking a girl out on a date, Jack. In public. At dinnertime. I haven’t seen you do anything like that in years.”
It was true. Jack hooked up with girls all the time, but this wasn’t a hookup. This, whatever it was, wasn’t his usual MO. Everything about this was different, not to mention the fact that he actually seemed nervous. Girls didn’t make my brother nervous, but for some reason, this one did.
When he pulled a paper bag from his dresser and rolled it up to stuff it into his pocket, I squinted at him. “What the hell is that?”
He smiled. “Quarters.”
“Quarters?”
“The first time I met her at that party, she told me it cost fifty cents every time I touched her.”
“So?”
“So this right here”—he shook the paper bag at me, and it jingled—“is a shitload of quarters . . . for a shitload of touching.”
I shook my head, both impressed with his resourcefulness and half shocked with his gal. “Nice.”
“She’ll love it, right?”
“Who wouldn’t?”
Jack looked at himself in the mirror one last time before turning to me. “How do I look?”