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Mental toughness indeed. I can’t help but smile, but Noah moves on without so much as a blink at his own joke.
“What questions do you have from Monday’s lecture?” he asks.
He knew I wouldn’t fail. I guess that’s as close to congratulations as the phlegmatic Noah Jennings gets.
So why does that mean more to me than Ethan’s exuberance?
Chapter 11
Friendboy
There’s nothing worse than aroommate with a boyfriend. Even when he isn’t really a boyfriend.
It’s been more than a month since Ivy and Dave’s first date, and I hardly see the girl anymore. Sure, she’s at the apartment sometimes, but when she is, Dave is usually with her. He’s even brought his guitar over a few times to play for Ivy, everything from Dan Fogelburg oldies and a few of his own compositions to the latest country hits, not that I would recognize them. Country isn’t my thing, but if I had a guy singing to me like Dave does for Ivy, I’d consider adapting.
When she’s not with him, she’s studying hard to make up for time lost to her not-boyfriend. One would think they were committed, if it weren’t for the fact that he hasn’t even held her hand, let alone kissed her. I’m not sure who that’s making crazier, me or Ivy. Not that she’s said anything to me, but I can tell she’s dying for some show of affection.
I’ve picked up some extra shifts volunteering with the after-school kids to fill the empty hours, but I’m getting desperate for company. So when I spot Ivy staring into space at the kitchen table on this Friday afternoon, I pounce. “Hey! Want to go see a movie?”
She startles out of her glazed stare and moves a hand to her idle laptop. “I should study.”
Her phone buzzes, and she reads the text with a spreading smile, then jumps up and clears her things off the table.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Dave wants some help with a song he’s working on.”
“I thought you had to study.”
“I said Ishouldstudy. There’s a difference. I can do that later.”
I try not to feel frustrated at being passed over again for a friendboy. “What’s up with you guys, anyway?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re always together, and you don’t date anyone else. Have you defined the relationship? Are you exclusive?”
Worry lines her forehead. “No. I mean, we’re not even dating, really, so there’s nothing to define. We’re just friends.”
“Just friends? I hardly see you anymore.”
She flushes. “Dave doesn’t like me that way.”
“You’re devoting a lot of time to a guy who only wants to be friends. Don’t you want more than that?”
“Of course I want more than that!” she snaps.
Whoa. Ivy isn’t a snapper. There’s a glint in her expression that dims against my silence.
“I’m sorry.” She sighs, plops back into her chair, and runs a hand through her untamed curls. “He doesn’t find me attractive.”
I’m dumbfounded. Ivy unattractive? Not possible. “If that’s true, he’s an idiot. Is he seeing someone else?”
“I don’t know when he would.”
I can certify that truth.
I think back on the last few times I’ve seen them together. Dave is always the gentleman, opening her doors and that kind of thing, and when they’re together, they both light up. Maybe I need to do some sleuthing.
