I give her a mock expression of shock, then scribble down, “To do homework, obviously. The rest of the guys will be there too.”
Her eyes say she’s on to my game, but she merely smiles and nods.See, fun!She leans over, her shoulder brushing my chest, and writes on my paper, “I don’t have a car.”
“I’ll give you a lift,” I reply quickly, both of our hands now hovering over the same page.
“Cool. Need to pick up my books first,” she pens back.
I jot down my phone number with “Text me when you’re ready” written after.
At this angle, Callie’s head is tucked under my chin, and to any outside observer, we look pretty cozy.Ah, I can practically feel the death lasers being shot from across the room.A smart person would presumably not want to antagonize the wicked witch in Prada, but I’ve long since stopped giving a shit. It appears Callie might give even less shits than I do. I should at least give her the hazard warning about Gina. Might be important to know what she’s dealing with even if it’s probably too late.
I don’t know how to feel about what happened at lunch today. On the one hand, even though Callie just met me, she stood up for me-- in a rather epic fashion. On the other hand, being in the middle of two witches is a bad place to be.Christ. Too late now.
Callie nudges me, and scribbles, “Do your work!” then leans back to return to her notebook. On a different page, she quickly jots down my cell number.
We have a sub today, so the class assignment is to answer the questions listed at the end of the chapter-- aka, write all the bold words down and the sentences they’re in. Takes absolutely no brain power.
I rest my chin on her shoulder and whisper in her ear, “I’ll just copy yours.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s called cheating,” she murmurs back, turning the pages of the textbook so she can write down the next question.
I shake my head, my chin digging a little into her shoulder. “Nope, being considerate.”
She chuckles quietly, her whole body shaking against mine. I like making her laugh. It’s genuine and free. I also enjoy antagonizing her for the same reason. In her frustration there’s humor, like she can appreciate the joke even when it’s on her. I swear I’m a hairstyle away from tugging on her pigtails.
Once she’s in better control, she mumbles, “How’s copying my work considerate?”
“Well,” I answer, like it should be obvious, “you’re clearly farther ahead of me in the assignment…”
“Because you haven’t started it,” she interrupts with a snicker.
“And we’re sharing a book,” I continue evenly. “If I started the assignment now, I’d just be getting in the way of you doing the assignment.”
“Uh huh,” she replies. I’m pretty sure I can feel her eyes roll.
I can’t help myself and give some of her hair a playful tug. “Is there any actual thinking required for this assignment?”
She sighs knowing I got her. “No.”
“And if I was looking for different answers, would it interrupt your work?” I inquire, taking the strands of her hair I nabbed and wrapping them around my fingers, the damp tendrils sticking to my skin.
Another sigh. “Yes.”
I smirk. “So…”
“Fine, Casanova,” she grumbles and turns her notebook in a way so it’s easier for me to see.
“Thank you,” I croon into her ear.
Still playing with her hair, I flip to a clean sheet of paper and begin copying down the assignment. Her writing is neat and easy to read. Definitely stealing her notes from now on; Connor’s chicken scratch is impossible to translate.
Class moves at a snail’s pace but poking and teasing Callie passes the time well. I get her to snort once, which earned me another elbow to the gut.Worth it.
When the bell rings, Callie moves her desk back over and gives me an exasperated look. She doesn’t say anything, just shakes her head like she doesn’t know what to do with me, then starts collecting her things into her backpack.
I grin. “What’s your next class?” I ask, while tossing my stuff into my messenger bag.
“Jewelry 1,” she answers, checking her schedule.
