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“I don’t want you to starve.” She put her backpack over her shoulders. “Obviously you’re going to wither away if you miss a meal.”
“There you go fat shaming me again.” He opened the door and held it for her. His stomach grumbled. “I burned all my calories at practice. I feel like my stomach is going to eat itself.”
“I was afraid you were going to eat me.” As soon as the words left her mouth, her cheeks turned pink as if she’d realized how it sounded only after she spoke.
“Would that be so bad?” He couldn’t help but tease as he fell into step beside her.
Her intake of breath was audible. He wasn’t sure how much experience she had. Maybe that had been too much? She didn’t look at him as they continued toward the dining hall. Her hands hidden in the front pocket of her hoodie. The silence made him want to remove the foot from his mouth. They’d been having a good time. The last study session, running together, the date, and the start of this session. He hadn’t meant to make her uncomfortable.
He lifted his hand to put it on her back, it was right there, close enough to feel her body heat, but then he dropped it to his side.
Finally, she spoke. “You’re going to have to write another draft after I comb through it.”
“I figured.” He was happy she was talking again.
When they reached the dining hall, he held the door for her to go first.
“I’ll get a table and start reading the paper while you get your food,” she said.
He didn’t mind that. The thought of watching her read his paper sounded as fun as having to run drills all practice. He didn’t want to be wondering if she thought he was a complete idiot while she read.
After grabbing a tray and loading it with food, he joined Autumn in the back booth. He wondered if sitting at a booth meant she wanted him to slide beside her in the bench seat or in the chair across from her. Beside her sounded better. When he slid onto the bench, his tray on the table, she looked up and smiled. His heart warmed. That was until he caught sight of all the red marks on his paper. Autumn pulled the paper to her chest, hiding it from him.
“Eat your dinner. Worry about this after.”
“If you say so.” He lifted a milk carton and began to shake. She flattened the paper on the table and began putting more marks on it.
Really? He wasn’t sure if he was irritated with her for being particular or himself for being so dumb that he couldn’t even write a paper correctly. Then he was embarrassed at the thought of how much smarter she was. Finally, she sat up straighter, put the cap on her pen and shuffled the essay to the first page.
“So?” He took a bite of spaghetti.
“It has potential.” She sat the pages upside down so he wouldn’t see.
“I’m just trying to pass.” He turned toward her.
She lifted a brow. “Don’t sports scholarships have to maintain a certain GPA?”
“That’s what I mean.”
She smiled and he didn’t care if she was chopping his homework, he could sit here and look at her smile all day.
“You have some changes to make on your next draft, but yeah, I think you’ll pass.” She nudged him with her shoulder.
He liked that after the nudge she seemed to sit a little closer.
