Page 6 of Changing Lanes

“No, ma’am. Can’t say that I did. When did the game start?” I feign surprise, trying to play cool.

“Oh, well played, country boy. Well played.” With a coy smile, she pushes her thigh into mine as the lecture begins and our flirting ends.

Fifteen minutes in, her hand touches mine, drawing my attention to it. Beneath her fingers, a white piece of paper. Passing notes, cliché or adorable? Who the hell cares? I slide it from her onto my desktop.

Do you like me? Yes or no? Circle one.

Completely cliché. I’m okay with that, so I circle one before passing it back. And yes, it was yes. I place the paper lightly under my hand so she has to work her fingers through mine to retrieve it. If she wants to play, game on.

She smiles and begins to scribble something else out, passing it between us once again. My pulse races at the simple act of sharing our thoughts in such a way. Simple but intimate. I take the scrap of paper from her, spreading it open to reveal its words.

Don’t you want to know if I like you?

The smirk is plastered on my face before I have a chance to gather myself. There’s no way I want to give myself away too early. One quick glance at her and she already knows the jig is up. I’m busted. Sprung. She has me, and she knows it. Not a bad place to be in, if I say so myself.

No.

Folding the note, I pass it without hesitation. Her response is lightning fast and to the point. There’s no pretense to her actions. She’s just ever so perturbed at me. I bite my cheek with a little more vigor than I should have. The taste of blood makes me cringe.

NO?

Her one word makes me chuckle out loud. Causing people close to us to turn, looking. My face flames red, slightly embarrassed, and she giggles, earning us the attention of the professor and her friends. I’m not sure who is more surprised.

We steer clear of any more disturbances during class. Her friends gather around us before I realize the class is even over. I stand from my seat and work my way through the crowd. I soon walk away, knowing how this will play out.

To my surprise, she catches up with me outside of class. Jogging across the courtyard, her ponytail swaying behind her. She may be country club, but she looks country girl with her cutoff denim and a plaid shirt. Although the Timberlands tells the tale.

“Country boy. Hey, country boy. Hold up,” she yells as she jogs toward me.

“Country club. What’s up? Didn’t think your posse was gonna let you slum.” Throwing my backpack over my shoulder, I shove my hands in my pockets.

“You wreck me, country boy. So, where you off to, library?” She raises her brows in expectancy of my response.

“Naw, my room.” My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to see Ava’s name across the screen and automatically answer. “Hey, Ava. I’m just getting outta class, can I call you back?”

“Yeah. I didn’t mean to bother you,” Ava answers quietly.

“No bother, sweetheart. I’ll hit you back in a few,” telling her to soothe her need of my attention.

“Sounds good. Love you,” Ava says it off handed, but we both know what she’s doing.

“Me too.” I hit end before another word can be spoken. I hope Ava can’t tell something was going on, she’ll drive me crazy if she does. In the meantime, the woman in front of me didn’t miss a thing.

“Girl back home, country boy?” She steps around me as she begins walking in the direction of the dorms.

“Naw, friend. Known her all my life.” I nod as we walk in sequence.

“Well, do tell. You going to marry her?” She hesitates on the word ‘marry’ as if it might upset her to know the truth.

“No. I’m waiting for the ‘one’, ya know?” Hedging at the invitation for more.

“A romantic, country boy? I think I might like that.” She knocks into me as we walk.

“Naw, not romantic. Realistic. I want the kinda love my parents’ shared. Lasting. Too goofy?” I cast my eyes to the darkening sky, afraid to look at her.

“Goofy? No. Insightful. And to be forward, rather honest. Country boy got feels.” Glancing over at her, she’s looking everywhere but in my direction.

“Are you gonna keep calling me country boy or ask my name?” I chide, trying to lighten the moment.