What It Seems | Wattys 2023

Chapter 23

"Yeah, I can just get Aiden to drop me off." I smiled. I'm surprised he wanted to hang out with me.

"You can just ride home with me," he offered. "Here, let me see your phone."

I pulled it out of my back pocket and handed it to him. The keyboard of my phone made clicking sounds.

"There's my number." He handed it back. "Just text me when you get out of class."

"Alright, see ya." The bell had rung, and the sidewalks were empty. So were the hallways once I entered the English wing from the back.

The next few hours went by smoothly and honestly, I was sort of nervous about hanging out with Baylor tonight. I never was nervous or anxious about hanging out with him, but this time I was.

Out of class, I texted.

I had no idea where he was. I don't know his schedule, his location of classes, or the lot he parks in at school.

Baylor: I'm in parking lot 2, right near the English wing.

Before I exited the English wing, I texted Aiden to let him know I was going over to Baylor's after school.

I spotted Baylor's black Jeep and walked to it. His windows were down, and his head was facing his lap, possibly on his phone. I walked to the passenger side of the Jeep and opened the door. I had no idea how I was going to get in this tall Jeep.

"If you were smart, you'd lower your Jeep. The humongous tires and the seven-foot step-up aren't necessary." I could hear his laughter escape from the driver's side of the car.

"Should I pick you up and place you in the seat, shortcake?"

"Ha-ha," I sarcastically added. I placed my stuff on the floorboard of the Jeep and tried to pick myself up to place myself in the seat. As I was struggling, I glanced at Baylor, who was already staring at me with a big smirk on his face.

"What?" I asked as I managed to get in the car. He shook his head and started the Jeep. The wide console separated our seats. His tan arm was resting on the middle console and his other hand was on the wheel. When I peeked at his face from the side, his eyes were fixed on the road, concentrating on his surroundings.

"You look so serious when you're driving," I said. He looked at me, his big eyes a golden brown.

"I don't want to wreck," he responded.

"Of course not, but your eyes are, like, wide and open when you look at the road."

"Yeah, yeah."

"You should let me drive. I have my license."

"There's no way in hell I'm letting you drive my Jeep," Baylor exaggerated.

"Hey! I'm not a bad driver... I run over curbs sometimes, but other than that, I'm a great driver," I defended.

He glanced at me. "Fine, maybe one day. That day I'll be planning my funeral, though."

"Oh, shut up." He looked at me and laughed. We pulled up to the condo building Baylor lives in.

"Do you need help out?" He had his door open, ready to get out.

"No, I'll just take a risky fall," I joked. Baylor jumped down and I stood onto the step-up just below the doorframe.

"C'mon." Baylor's arms were reached out, ready to pull me from the Jeep. It was easy for him to ease his way in and out of the car without worrying about slipping and falling.

"You're making me feel like an elderly lady."

We made it to the fifth floor of the building and entered his condo. Baylor threw his keys, wallet, and phone on the coffee table once we walked in. I sat down on the couch while he walked to the kitchen. He handed me a Pepsi and plopped on the sofa beside me. I popped the top of the can, and the carbonated drink spewed all over me and the white couch.

"What'd you do, drop it?!" I exclaimed as I wiped my face with my long-sleeved shirt. My clothes were soaked.

"No, it must've turned out like that," he laughed aloud.

"C'mere," I called out, motioning for him to come closer. I threw my hair into a messy bun so my hair wouldn't get wet from the sticky drink. He fell for my trick, and I hugged him.

"You're sticky," he cringed.

"Well, yeah, so now I have to change." Baylor stood up and walked up the stairs to the second floor. At least he doesn't have to put up with the stickiness for long. On the other hand, I'll smell like Pepsi and feel like sticky candy.

I heard jogging from the stairs. "Here," he offered a t-shirt and sweats. "The bathroom is over there." He pointed his finger towards the downstairs bathroom.

"Thanks."

The shirt fell about mid-thigh, and the sweats were baggy and super long. I had to roll up the band of the long sweats.

I heard the T.V cut on once I walked out. "These are, like, long on me but thanks for the clothes," I chuckled.

"It's fine," he shrugged. "Follow me." He stood from the couch, the muscle shirt he had on showed everything.

I followed him to the kitchen. He opened the pantry door and retrieved a can of cool whip. "Have you ever had cool whip with Nutella?" he asked.

I shook my head no, and he placed the can of cool whip along with the Nutella mega jar on the marbled counter.

"Can you get two spoons out of that drawer?" He pointed his finger to a drawer that was not far from me. I opened the drawer and grabbed two tablespoons and handed them to Baylor.

"Is it nasty?" I asked.

"No." He dipped his spoon in the jar and pulled out a spoonful and handed me the jar. I dipped my spoon in the jar to retrieve some. He then added a swirl of cool whip to his Nutella.

As soon as I held my spoon out, the cool whip winded up being on my face instead of my spoon.

His laughter filled the room. I could feel the white cream covering my eyes, nose and my lips. I wiped my eyes with my four fingers and licked my lips.

"Baylor Parker, you're dead!" I screamed, watching him run up the stairs. I began jogging up the stairs, chasing after him until I missed a step, making my heart skip four beats. Once I reached the balcony, everything was steady, as if no movement was visible.

"Don't be a chicken!" I called out.

I ran my hand along my face and gently smacked Baylor when he came around the corner. He had cool whip on his cheeks,

I darted for my dear life. But before I could do so, a sudden snatch from my wrist hauled me back and I couldn't move.

"You look white." Baylor trailed his vast hand down my face, covering my total face with just the width of his hand. He wiped the remainder of cool whip on his pants. He released my wrist and observed me.

"Alright, bad boy," I warned. . I turned around to proceed to walk downstairs. I was caught off guard when there was a tug at my wrist. Baylor pulled me by my wrist and into his space.