Wait for You (5 page)

What the hell was he drawing?

“Now, most of you kiddos don’t care about astronomical units or have never really heard of them,” Professor Drage went on, passing the length of the stage. “What you are familiar with is the term ‘light year.’ Although, I doubt any of you really, truly understand what a light year is.”

I was pretty sure Cam was drawing Big Foot.

The lecture went on until Professor Drage suddenly changed gears at the end, catching me and everyone else besides Cam off guard, and started passing out star maps. “I know today is only Wednesday, but here is your first assignment for the weekend. Skies are supposed to be clear as a baby’s bottom on Saturday.”

“Clear as a baby’s bottom?” I muttered.

Cam chuckled.

“I want you to find the Corona Borealis in the sky—the actual real, honest to goodness, night sky,” Professor Drage explained, smiling as if he said something funny, but we all stared at him. “You won’t need a telescope. Use your eyes or glasses or contacts or whatever. You can view it either Friday or Saturday night, but the weather is looking sketchy on Friday, so choose wisely.”

“Wait,” someone from up front said. “How do you use this map?”

Cam handed me a map that had been passed down our row, along with several grid sheets.
 

Professor Drage stopped in front of the class. “You look at it.”

I bit back a laugh.

The student huffed. “I get that, but do we hold up to the sky or something?”

“Sure. You could do that. Or you could just look at each of the constellations, see what they look like and then use your own eyes and brains to find it in the sky.” The Professor paused. “Or use Google. I want all of you to start to get familiar with stargazing. You’re going to be doing a lot of that this semester and you’ll appreciate doing it now when it’s warm. So get with your partner and pick out a time. The grid will be turned back into me on Monday. That’s all for the day. Good luck and may the force of the universe be with you today.”

Several students laughed, but my stomach dropped out of my butt.
 

“Partner?” I said, voice low as I frantically looked around the classroom. Almost everyone was turned in their seat, talking to another person. “When did we pick partners?”

“On Monday,” Cam replied, closing his notebook and shoving it into his backpack. “You weren’t here.”

My heart thumped in my chest as I scooted to the edge of the seat.
Shit
. Professor Drage had already bounced from the room. Half the students were already out the door.
 

“Avery?”

How in the hell was I supposed to get a partner now? I really shouldn’t have run like a little baby on Monday. This was all my fault.
 

“Avery.”

Where was the Professor’s office? I was going to have to find the dude and explain I didn’t have a partner. I bet his office smelled weird, too, like moth balls.
 

“
Avery
.”

“What?” I snapped, turning to Cam. Why was he still sitting here staring at me?

His brows rose. “We’re partners.”

“Huh?”

“We. Are. Partners,” he repeated, and then sighed. “Apparently, Drage had the class pick their partners right at the beginning of class on Monday. I walked in afterward and at the end he told me to partner with anyone who joined the class on Wednesday or I’d be partnerless. And since I don’t like the idea of being partnerless, you and I are partners.”

I stared at him. “We have a choice to do this on our own?”

“Yeah, but who wants to go out staring at the sky at night by themselves?” He stood and slung his backpack over his shoulder as he started down the row.
 
“Anyway, I know a perfect place we can do our assignment. Has to be Saturday, because I have plans Friday.”

“Wait.” I stood, rushing after him. “I do.”

“You have plans on Saturday?” He frowned. “Well, I might—”

“No. I don’t have plans on Saturday, but we don’t have to be partners,” I explained. “I can do this by myself.”

He stopped so suddenly in front of the doors that I nearly had a repeat of Monday. “Why would you want to do all the assignments—and if you look at his class outline, there’s a lot—all by yourself?”

“Well, I don’t really want to.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the next. “But you don’t have to be my partner. I mean, you don’t owe me or anything.”

“I don’t get what you’re saying.” Cam tilted his head to the side.
 

“What I’m saying is that…” I trailed off. What the hell was I saying? The problem was I just didn’t get him—any of him. He didn’t know me. I didn’t know him and yet he was so… so
friendly
.
 
The next words just came out of my mouth. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

A brow rose. “Is that a serious question?”

“Yes.”

He stared at me a moment. “Alright, I guess I’m just a nice guy. And you’re obviously new—a freshman. You seemed to be a little out of it on Monday and then you ran off, wouldn’t even come into class and I—”

“I don’t want your pity.” I was horrified. He was being nice to me because he thought I was a freshman freak. Oh God, that was…

Cam frowned, and I mean really frowned. “You don’t have my pity, Avery. I’m just saying you seemed out of it on Monday and I figured we’d just be partners.” He stopped and his eyes narrowed. “I can see that you don’t believe me. Maybe it was the cookie? Well, you refused to taste my cookies last night and honestly, I was going to eat the other cookie, but you looked so tired and sad sitting there, I figured you needed the cookie more than I did.”

I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but there was a distinct gleam of amusement in his eyes.
 

“And you’re pretty,” he added.

I blinked “What?”

That frown had faded as he opened the door, ushering me out of the class and into the hall. “Do not tell me you don’t know you’re pretty. If so, I’m about to lose all faith in mankind. You don’t want to be responsible for that.”

“I know I’m pretty—I mean, that’s not what I meant.” God, I sounded vain. I shook my head. “I don’t think I’m ugly. That’s what—”

“Good. Now we’ve cleared that up. ” Tugging on my bag, he steered me toward the stairwell. “Watch the door. It can be tricky.”

I ignored that. “What does the whole pretty comment have to do with anything?”

“You asked why I’m so nice to you. It’s mutually beneficial.”
 

It sunk in and I stopped on the stair above him. “You’re nice to me because you think I’m pretty?”

“And because you have brown eyes. I’m a sucker for big old brown eyes.” He laughed. “I’m a shallow, shallow boy. Hey, it helps that you’re pretty. It brings out the nice guy in me. Makes me what to share my cookies with you.”

I stared at him. “So if I was ugly, you wouldn’t be nice to me?” Cam pivoted around, facing me. Even a whole step below, he was taller than me.
 
“I’d still be nice to you if you were ugly.”

“Okay.”
 

A wicked grin slipped over his full lips. He bent his head down and whispered, “I just wouldn’t offer you any cookies.”

 
I folded my arms and tried to ignore the close proximity of our faces. “I’m beginning to think cookies is a code word for something else.”

“Maybe it is.” He tugged on my bag again as he took a confident step back, forcing me down another step. “And just think about it. If cookie was a code word, whatever it symbolizes, it’s been in your mouth, sweetheart.”

Part of me was slightly disturbed by that and the other part? A laugh bubbled up my throat and came out, sounding a bit hoarse. “You are really…”

“Amazing? Awesome?” He paused, brows raised. “Astonishing?”

“I was going to go with bizarre.”

“Well, hell, if I had feelings that might actually hurt.”

I grinned, falling into the easy banter with him. “I guess it’s a good thing that you don’t have feelings then, huh?”

“Guess so.” He went down a couple more steps and stopped on the landing. “You better hurry or you’re going to be late to your next class.”

Holy shit! He was right.
 

Cam laughed at my wide eyes and stepped out of my way as I charged down the steps. “Damn, if only you moved that fast for my cookies, I’d be a happy guy.”

“Shut up!” I tossed over my shoulder as I hit the next set of steps.
 

“Hey!” he yelled after me. “Don’t you want to know what cookies is a code word for?”

“No! Good God, no!”

His laughter followed me into the hall and all the way to my next class.

Chapter 5

“Your apartment is really nice,” Brittany said from my couch. A history text lay open, but unread in her lap. “I would love not to have to live in a dorm. My roommate snores like a banshee is her sleep.”

I hovered between the coffee table and the TV, really unsure on how Brittany and Jacob had ended up in my apartment after class. At lunch, we’d talked about getting together and exchanging notes from history and somehow my place was offered up. I really think it was Jacob’s idea, and since both of them were here we were getting absolutely no studying done.
 

Anxious energy buzzed through me like a hummingbird. It had been so long since I had people in my space. Back home, no one but family came around and only the maid entered my bedroom. Not only had I been a virtual pariah in my town and at school, it had been the same way inside my house. But before that Halloween party,
everyone
hung out at my house, especially the girls from the studio. Everyone had still talked to me then and I’d still danced. Before that party, things had been normal.

I fiddled with my bracelet, nervous. I liked them here because it was normal and reminded me of the
before
. It was what people in college did, but it was so… different to me.
 

Jacob resurfaced from my kitchen, a bag of chips in hand. “Forget about the apartment. Don’t get me wrong. It is a nice apartment, but I want to hear more about Cam’s
cookies
.”

I took a chip from the bag. “I should’ve never told you about that conversation.”

“Whatever,” he replied, mouth full.
 

Brittany giggled. “I am so dying to know what cookies are slang for.”

“Probably his cock,” Jacob plopped down on the arm of the couch.
 

“Oh my God,” I said, taking a handful of chips. I needed the calorie fortitude for where this conversation was heading.

Brittany nodded. “Makes sense then. I mean, with the whole not sharing cookies with ugly girls.”

“I don’t think he really meant that,” I said, popping a chip in my mouth. “So, back to our history notes…”

“Fuck history. Back to Cam’s cock.” Jacob said. “Do you know, if cookies is a code word for cock, then that means his cock was in your mouth.”

I choked on the chip and grabbed my can of soda, inhaling the liquid as my face burned.

“Theoretically speaking that is,” Jacob added, grinning like a total shithead. He hopped up. “I don’t know how you do it, Avery. If I lived across the hall from him, I’d be plastered to his front door noon to midnight. And I’d be all over his
cookies
. Yum.”

Waving a hand in front of my face, I shook my head. “You can have his cookies.”

“Oh, honey, if he swung batter-batter for my team, I’d be all over that in a heartbeat.”
 

Brittany’s eyes rolled. “Big surprise there.”

“What I don’t understand is how come you aren’t all over his
cookies
.”
 

I opened my mouth, but Brittany shook her head and said, “I don’t think cookies mean cock. I think it might mean his balls being that its plural and all.”

Jacob burst into loud laughter. “Then that means his balls were in your mouth theoretically speaking! Damn, that’s some dirty baking.”

I gaped at the two. Was this typical conversation? “Oh my God, can we please stop talking about his cock and balls or I’ll never be able to eat cookies again. Like ever.”

“No. Seriously. How come you aren’t all up on that.” Jacob climbed onto the back of the couch like an overgrown cat. “He’s obviously flirting with you.”

“So,” I replied, believing it might be safe to eat another chip without dying.

Jacob’s jaw dropped. “So?”

Brittany closed the history book and dropped it on the floor with a loud thump. Guess there went studying completely. “Jacob is like a sex-starved woman in her mid-thirties, so he can’t possibly understand why you wouldn’t want to take a ride on the town bike.”

I glanced at Jacob, and he just shrugged and said, “Very true.”

“Even I have a hard time understanding that. Cameron is really good looking,” Brittany continued. “And I have never heard any girl talking crap about him, so he must treat them good.”

Having no idea what to say, I dropped into the black moon chair near the TV. Explaining to them the why behind it all was a big fat no go. “I don’t know. I’m just not interested.”