The Ivy League

The Ivy League Part 25

           “That’s how,” he said smugly, obviously very pleased with himself.

           I gave him a scowl because it was expected of me, and turned around so he wouldn’t see my flushed face. Rebecca had left before Jake had kissed me, about some delivery, which meant that…

           “THE COOKIES ARE BURNING!” I shrieked, running for the oven. Thrusting my hand in, I yanked out the tray. “HOT!” I yelled, and let go of the tray. It shot out of the oven and skidded across the floor, spraying out cookies everywhere. Jake was in a helpless fit of laughter.

           “You’re…so…stupid, Courtney!” he choked out and this time I gave him a real scowl, nursing my finger.

           “Ow,” I said in a soft, hurt voice, feeling little tears form in my eyes as I examined my blistered finger.

           “Aw, don’t cry!” Jake exclaimed, hurrying to my side. Unfortunately for him, but to my great entertainment, he slipped on a cookie and landed on his muscled derrière. Apparently hot mushy cookies are slippery. “See?” he asked, looking up at me from the ground. “I think I just fell for you.”

           I sniggered as Jake picked himself up, half a moist cookie attached to his butt. I pointed this fact out and Jake swiped his hands across his body, brushing off crumbs and smearing chocolate. He grimaced.

“Bite me.”

           “Not over there, I won’t,” I said firmly, watching as a grinning Jake slowly peeled the cookie off that part of his anatomy.

           Rebecca came in at that moment, holding a package. “Sweet Mary, Mother of God!” she whispered, eyes wide. Jake and I glanced guiltily down at the floor which was tiled with chocolate-chip cookies.

           “These won’t go to waste,” Jake tried to reassure her, “see? I don’t mind!” And with that, he promptly scraped a cookie off the floor and shoved the crumbled chocolaty mess into his mouth. “Tathtes goof!” he announced, cheeks bulging.

           Rebecca and I exchanged horrified glances before she promptly shooed us out, thrusting the package at me.

           “Go on!” she said, flapping her hands at us, “I’ll finish here! Go, and I don’t want to see you in my kitchen until I’m done with the cookies!”

           Jake looked ruefully at the ground. As we left, he stooped low and scooped up a handful of mush. “Oh, I’m sorry!” he said, eyes wide as we climbed the stairs. “Want some?” he offered.

           “Hmm,” I pretended to debate. “Sure!” I took the bottom of his hand and slapped it into his face, getting the doughy mush into his face. Jake blinked at me for a moment through chocolate-smeared eyes. Then his tongue broke free and he licked his lips appreciatively.

           “Still good,” he informed me. I laughed.

           We entered my room and Jake immediately plopped himself onto my bed, stretching out.

           “You better not get it covered in cookie dough,” I warned him. In response, Jake rolled over and proceeded to wipe his face into my comforter.

           “Ahh,” he sighed luxuriously as his faced emerged, slightly browner than usual. His happy sigh turned to a terrified yell as I launched a pair of scissors at him. They landed one inch away from where the sun don’t shine.

           “Jeez!” he said weakly, “I nearly lost my manhood!”

           “I know,” I agreed, “I missed. Now pass the snip-snips.”