And Then There Was Victor

Chapter 19

I took extra time with my hair and makeup the next day and it had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I was meeting Jackson to go over his notes. I also put perfume between my boobs because you never know where a man's nose might end up. I chose my highest wedges so that I looked the height of a normal human being plus for reaching tallboys whose neck I might want to grab. Earrings were dangly, the tank top was moderately see-thru, and I had manhandled my hair to the point of being tame.

Florida heat was, however, putting up an excellent offense.

I had to ensure the boys did not see me before my little rendezvous. I knew what they would say, and I knew they would notice. I avoided them entirely by arriving an entire hour before they did, and I hid in the upstairs computer lab. It was a 100% quiet space where web chatters went to meet their digital paramours. The boys hated that area so I knew I'd be able to avoid them entirely. I there in between classes and I even ignored when Victor called me my cell. Then he called me again and I hobbled outside to pick up the call.

"Hey what's wrong?" I whispered.

"Are you here?"

"Yes, big project, I'll see you tomorrow," I said and hung up.

Yes, I felt rather guilty but honestly, I knew they were just going to make fun of me, I looked like I put an effort. I had to look nothing like I had looked in the 5K, all sweaty and dying. I found Jackson in the library, he was setting down his things, waiving at some people that passed by him when I arrived.

"Hey gorgeous," he smiled.

"Hi!" Too bright. Too desperate. Be alluring. Count to three before speaking.

He sat down and gestured to the seat next to him which I calmly took, making sure my back was straight. He pulled out his notes and I watched his arms. He was fit, not fit like Victor was, but a soft kind. He was talking and gesturing to his notes. His handwriting was chaos, a mess, not messy like mine but harsh lines jutting out in various directions, no rhythm, no sense. For a moment I wished his letters were neat and tidy like Victor's. Wait why was I thinking about Victor? I had a guy who liked me three inches from my boobs and I was thinking about my best friend?

"So, I'm thinking the final project is going to be the really important bit of this class," he said and I nodded.

"Right, worth 60% of the grade," I said.

He smiled then he touched his hair, scratching at the buzzed hairs by his ears. "So, I'm glad you're no longer good friends with Manning. That was really bizarre."

The brilliant, flirty smile dropped from my face. "What do you mean of course we're still friends."

"Oh," he looked away. "Hadn't seen you guys this week together, I figured that was finally over."

"I don't understand," I said.

"I mean, I'm not looking for anything serious to begin with," he said, scratching his eyebrow making him look a little arrogant. "But even if we were just messing around, I wouldn't be comfortable with that friendship."

I stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. What he was insinuating.

"Are you..." I sighed. "Are you saying that if you were ever to mess with me, even a casual grope in the back of the building, I would not be able to be friends with Victor because..."

"It's strange, babe. It just is," he shrugged.

I handed him back his paper and stood up, he looked up at me stunned. "Oh my god. You're an asshole! Like a real one." I laughed and zoomed my eyes on him. "I cannot believe I straightened my hair out for you. Go to hell."