Heartland (True North #7) - Sarina Bowen Page 0,39
I admit. “Haltingly. Like the bumbling fool that I am.”
He flinches. “And what did she say?”
“Nothing. She just sort of stared at me like I’d suddenly grown a really bad handlebar mustache. And then I yelled at the sky like a sad sack and wandered off.”
Rickie holds my eyes as he takes a sip of his coffee. “She’s either mad that you kissed her, or mad that you stopped. My money is on door number two.”
“What? No. Who’d want a slobbering-idiot kiss?”
“Well, I would.” His grin widens. “So long as it’s from the right slobbering idiot. Why did you stop, anyway? I practically get a contact high off your sexual tension.”
“That’s just the dope you’re smoking,” I mutter. The last thing Chastity needs is a visit from my overeager libido.
But I can’t help glancing over at her. She’s bent over her notebook, penciling in another equation on the page. Then she taps her eraser on the paper and shows it to her friend.
“There you go!” says the girl with the frizzy hair.
Chastity’s smile is so bright that for a second I forget how to breathe.
“Hmm.” Rickie says beside me. “Interesting.”
“What is?”
“You, that’s what. Are you going to talk to her?”
“Of course I am. I’m going to apologize again. When you’re a dick to your friends, that’s what you do. Besides, I have a present for her.”
“Is it your dick?” Rickie asks with a snicker.
“No, asshole.”
He shakes his head. “Too bad. I’m going to score us a table. At a safe distance.”
“You do that.”
Sixteen
Chastity
“I don’t know, Chastity,” my new friend says as I start on problem number seven. “You might not be as bad at algebra as you think. I barely even helped you.”
“No, you did,” I insist as I solve the last problem. “My brain just doesn’t bend this way. I need to be shown what to do.” Sometimes three or four times.
But at least this assignment is under control. I’ll survive one more week of algebra, thanks to Ellie.
A couple hours ago I’d been sitting at a computer terminal in the library, where I submitted my composition.
I’d checked my email and found a message from Dylan.
Hi C! Are we on for algebra today? If I don’t hear from you I’ll head for the library.
I promise to be 100% sober. I’m sorry I was so out of line this weekend. That was completely inappropriate. It won’t happen again.
-Love, D.
A perfectly nice email, but it had crushed me anyway. It won’t happen again. Did he have to make that point so loudly? Like I don’t already know that?
I’m ashamed to admit that I’d felt a little teary right there in front of a borrowed Macintosh computer. I’d grabbed a paper napkin out of my backpack to dab at my eyes.
“Are you okay?”
I’d looked up to see Ellie watching me carefully from the next terminal. “Yes,” I’d croaked. “I’m fine”
“You don’t look all that fine.”
“True,” I’d admitted. “But it isn’t as bad as it looks.” I’ve never been one to complain.
“If you say so. Turning in the composition?”
“Just did.”
“Same. My computer is in the shop getting the keyboard replaced.” She’d let out a sigh. “It’s the second time my letter E got stuck.”
“Oh, I bet that’s annoying.” Not that I’d know. “I’m still saving up for one.”
“Jesus lord, I’d die.” She’d laughed. “Okay, fine. I wouldn’t die. A stuck E key is a first-world problem. But I’m used to my creature comforts. I’m Ellie, by the way.”
“I know. Chastity,” I’d said quickly. “That’s, uh, my name.”
God could I be any more awkward?
“Do you want to get a hot chocolate after this? It might cheer you up.”
I’d almost said no. I couldn’t afford to buy overpriced hot chocolate at the coffee shop. But talking to Ellie was the best distraction I’d had all week. “I want to. But I’m supposed to meet my algebra tutor later.”
“Which one?” she’d asked, brightening up. “I tutor math in the lab on Saturdays and Sundays.”
“Really?” I knew there was a tutoring lab, but I’d never been there. Because I have Dylan. “How much do you cost?”
“Well.” She’d crossed her arms. “It’s one problem set? In which course?”
“Math 101.”
“Well, shoot. That will cost you a hot chocolate.”
I’d taken her up on it immediately. And then—because I avoid confrontation at all costs—I’d called the house on Spruce Street, knowing Dylan wouldn’t be there. It had worked like a charm. Rickie had said, “No problem, hon. I’ll text him.”
So here I sit in the lap of velvet sofa luxury with