Will and I study in his living room almost every day. The term "study" being used lightly because we talk and joke more than half the time. I lose track of the days because they go by so smoothly. Avery has become my best friend and I'm also getting closer with Kira even though I don't see her as much. I've made some friends in my other classes, but I don't hang out with them because that would mean taking away my time with Will. Professor Moore told me long ago that I don't have to continue tutoring him, but I just said okay and pretended that the conversation never happened. I don't know if Will would still want me to come over his house if I don't have to.
He used to bug me all the time in business class, but after the professor called him out for the twentieth time, he settles with just staring at me half the period. We have more freedom in painting, even though his seat is across the room. Last week, we had an assignment to use only primary colors to paint an imaginary animal and he walked over to ask me if I had any extra purple paint he could borrow. Yesterday, we had to use small brushes (sizes 1-5) to paint the "crazy thoughts banging to get out of your ingenious little heads" and he asked me if he could barrow my size 10 brush. He gave up on thinking of good excuses to come talk to me after the first week.
I've tried to ask him more questions when we're at his house, but only one every couple of days. It tends to put him in a sour mood and I never really get any answers like I did the first day I came over.
"Why do you call your Mom by her first name?"
"That's personal."
"Why haven't you talked to your Dad in so long?"
"He's none of your concern, or mine for that matter. Drop it."
"How come you live separate from your parents?"
"I'm an adult."
"Do you ever see them?"
"Hardly."
"Will I ever get to meet your parents?"
"For your sake, hopefully not."
And that's the end of the conversation. It's easier to talk about myself and have him listen. I can tell it's hard for him to tell me things so I'm not very persistent. Once or twice we've heard people in the kitchen but Will pretends he doesn't hear it, so I do the same. I would love to meet his parents, but it seems like a sensitive subject to bring up.
I know he still goes to parties and probably gets drunk and hooks up with girls. I've asked Avery if she's seen him and she says that she has. Will has asked me to go to a few but I always say no. My experience with parties is not very good and I'm honestly a little scared to go to another one.
I hate the knot in my stomach that forms when I think of Will with other girls. Of course I have no say in what he does. I would be stupid to think that he would want to stay with one girl. Especially if that one girl is me. I have no experience in the things he does every weekend and it would just be a big letdown for him if he ever did want to be with me in that way. He never tries anything with me, which is a relief. I think I should feel insulted, but I don't. It's better if we just stay friends and other girls can take care of the rest. Even though it makes my heart drop every time I think about it.
"What are you doing? There isn't even a two in your previous answer!" Our roles of student and teacher have switched since Will started reading his book and statistics got twice as hard.
"I didn't even know I was supposed to be using that answer!" I say back just as irritated.
"Oh my God Jessi," he says rubbing his hands over his face. "How the fuck are you getting an A in this class right now?"
My phone rings and pulls my attention away from the dancing numbers. I look to see that it's my Mom and press ignore. I'll call her when I get back to my dorm.
"I don't really know. I think the professor just really likes me."
It rings again. I press ignore.
"Maybe you should try understanding the class instead of just flirting with the teacher."
It rings again. I'm going to kill her.
"Who is that?" Will asks when I press ignore again.
"It's just my Mom. I'll call her later." I turn off the ringing sound and put the phone back on the table. "So if I take the two and put it in the next equation, it still doesn't balance out because-" The vibration of a text message interrupts me and Will grabs my phone off the table.
"Will! No! Come on. Give it back." I stand up but he does too and my height is no match for his. He seems to think it's hilarious when I jump up only reaching as high as the bottom of his wrist.
"The teacher takes all phones that are distracting to the class," he says in a voice that sounds exactly like Mrs. Frizzle. Laughing is just making my mission to retrieve my phone ten times harder.
"It's just your Mom again," he says looking at the screen. I know it is. And I know why she keeps calling me.
"Hi honey!" He starts reading.
"Will!" I try to get him to stop but it only encourages him.
"I'm sure you're busy with your friend Will right now," he stops and gives me a sly smile. "You told her about me." I try to take the opportunity to grab my phone but he brings it up above his head again.
"Don't flatter yourself," I say my face suddenly feeling really hot. "I tell my Mom about everything." His smile widens like he's caught me in a lie but he really hasn't. To an extent. I tell my Mom about my classes and all my friends, but I might have left out the part about being drugged at a party.
He continues reading, "I hope you're having fun. I just wanted to say how sorry I am for not calling yesterday. I had a big art convention, but that is still no excuse for forgetting my daughter's..." He stops and his expression goes serious.
"It was your birthday yesterday?" He asks and I blush even more. I absolutely hate birthdays. I would rather suffer through a whole day of doing impossible statistics problems than random attention and awkward singing.
"Yeah," I say quietly and snatch my phone back. "But back to my homework-"
"Why didn't you tell me?" Because it's the most uncomfortable thing in the world to bring up. What am I supposed to say? 'Hey! On November 13th, make sure you celebrate the fact that I'm alive.'
"It's no big deal." I say mocking his words from when we first came to his house.
"What did you do on your birthday?" He asks like he's going to get a really exciting answer. Yesterday was Wednesday, and Will decided to go to a party, which means that I stayed in my dorm and watched The Great Gatsby while eating cheese popcorn.
"Just stayed in," I say casually. "I don't like making a big deal out of it."
"We need to celebrate." If he throws some sort of party, I'll cut all of the hair off of his head in his sleep.
"Will please. We don't have to-"
"Shhhh," he puts a finger to my mouth which immediately shuts me up. "Don't say anything." I roll my eyes as he continues. "You don't have a choice. Follow me." He stands up and walks out of the room and I hesitate before following.
As soon as we're in the kitchen, he pulls out a big book from the cupboard and slams it down on the table.
"Pick one." He scoots the book closer to me and I read the title. The Hastings Family: Favorite Cakes. I open the front cover and see little messages handwritten by family members. Will flips the page for me before I get a chance to read any of them. I look up at him, but his eyes are fixed on the first recipe. Don't push him, Jessi.
Vanilla is the title of the first page.
Chocolate is the next. "How about this one?" I say pointing to the page.
"You would pick the most boring cake in the whole book," he says flipping to the next page. "Be a little creative, Rosie." I've learned that he only calls me Rosie when he's joking around and in a good mood so I let it go from now on.
I make a big deal of taking fifty pages at a time and flipping to the back of the book where the names seen just as long as the recipe.
"This one," I say pointing Old Fashion Milk Chocolate Fudge Cake With Triple Dark Chocolate Chips Layered With Swirl Chocolate Frosting.
"Perfect. I think we'll need some chocolate," he says going into the fridge. I read through the list of ingredients and start my hunt around the kitchen for anything I might stumble across that we would need. They have a crap load of food for a family that hardly spends any time in the kitchen.
Once everything is out on the island, we get to work adding and mixing and folding and tasting. Will is a terrible baker and I'll be surprised if it actually comes out as an edible cake. I'm almost on the floor laughing when I see him trying to measure out two cup of sugar with a 1/16 cup.
"What happened to the 1 cup measuring cup?" I say when I can catch my breath.
"Some dumb ass used it to measure the flour," which just makes me laugh harder.
"You can't rinse it off?" And he pauses for a second, thinking.
"I can make this cake however I want, damn it." It seems like the world doesn't exist during times like this. Just me and Will and an overly chocolaty cake. It's so nice to be able to forgot everything and just laugh. That's what happens whenever I'm around Will.
I tune out the rest of the world so he's the only thing I'm focused on. It frightens me in a way, putting all my time and energy into someone who has mentioned multiple times that he will never date anyone, but I like this too much to overthink anything. For once in my life, I do something illogical just because I want to. And if hanging out with Will is the most illogical thing I've ever done, then I think I've pretty much got everything else under control.
"I'm amazing at catching chocolate chips in my mouth," I say while he's mixing the batter.
"Prove it," he challenges. I pick a piece of chocolate from the bag and throw it up into the air. It falls perfectly into my mouth.
"Impressive Rosie. But you've got to throw it a little higher than that." I repeat the action, throwing it so it almost touches the ceiling, and catch it in my mouth.
"Throw me one." He opens his mouth and takes a few steps back. I throw it and it bounces right off of his nose. "You have terrible aim!"
"You have to move to catch it, genius," I say. He grumbles something under his breath about excuses and opens his mouth again. I try to aim better but he moves his head so it completely misses his face.
"Okay it's my turn," he says grabbing a handful of chocolate chips and throwing them all at me at one time.
"Hey!" I yell and grab a little bit of flour to throw onto his face. I can't help but to laugh at his glare when it gets all over his nose and mouth.
"You want to play that game?" He says filling both his hands with flour and covering me before I can run away. I shake my head back and forth and watch flour fly around us.
"Oh Rosie, you have a little something on your chin, let me just wash it off.." he grabs a bowl of measured water and pours it over my head.
Now dripping wet and half covered in flour I look up at him, "You asked for it." We had a lot of a chocolate/butter mixture left over because of Will's poor measuring skills and I pick up the bowl smirking at him. He starts to back away.
"Don't even think about-" And I throw everything in the bowl at his face. Most of it meets its target and the rest drips onto his shirt and the floor. He freezes and for a moment I think he's actually mad until he wipes his eyes and take the first thing he sees to throw back at me. It's just a cup of sugar that sticks to me where the water is but runs onto the floor everywhere else. I pick up an egg as he turns around knowing it's my turn to act. I jump onto his back laughing as I crack the egg over his head.
"You're such an ass," he laughs as he runs around the kitchen. He keeps going in circles until I'm laughing too hard and he wiggles out of my grip. I pick up an egg and throw it at him across the kitchen being careful not to throw it near anything that might break. He surprisingly catches it and throws it back. I duck and it hits the fridge behind me. I pick up another one and he jumps out of the way when I throw it with a little more force. It breaks against the opposite wall right next to somebody's head and I freeze.
"What's wrong?" Will asks when he sees my face but I'm unable to respond. He follows my gaze and drops the egg that he was holding.
"Leah."
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