The Deal

“Oh. I didn’t know you guys were friends.”

I smile impishly. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

Holy shit. I’m flirting with him.

He smiles too, and the sexiest dimple I’ve ever seen appears in his chin. “I guess you’re right.” He pauses meaningfully. “Maybe we ought to change that.”

Holy shit. He’s flirting back.

And as much as I hate to admit it, I’m starting to think Garrett’s hard-to-get theory actually holds water. Justin seems curiously fixated on the fact that I left the party with Garrett.

“So…” His eyes twinkle playfully. “What are you doing after cla—”

“Wellsy!”

I swallow a groan at the cheerful interruption from—who else—Garrett. A slight frown touches Justin’s lips as Garrett strides up to us, but then he smiles and nods at the unwelcome intruder.

Garrett holds two foam cups in his hands, and he thrusts one at me with a grin. “Got you a coffee. I figured you might need it.”

I don’t miss the strange look Justin shoots in our direction, or the flicker of displeasure in his eyes, but I gratefully accept the cup and pop the lid, blowing on the hot liquid before taking a tiny sip. “You’re a lifesaver,” I breathe.

Garrett nods at Justin. “Kohl,” he says in greeting.

The two of them exchange a manly hand slap type of thing, not a shake, but not quite a fist bump either.

“Graham,” Justin says. “I heard you handed St. Anthony’s asses to them this weekend. Nice win.”

“Thanks.” Garrett chuckles. “I heard you got your ass handed to you against Brown. Bummer.”

“There goes our perfect season, huh?” Justin says ruefully.

Garrett shrugs. “You guys’ll bounce back. Maxwell’s arm is ridiculous.”

“Tell me about it.”

Since I rate sports talk on the same level of boring as politics and gardening, I take a step toward the door. “I’m heading in. Thanks for the coffee, Garrett.”

My pulse continues to race as I enter the lecture hall. It’s funny, but my life suddenly seems to be moving at lightning speed. Before the Sigma party, the most contact I had with Justin was one measly nod from ten feet away—and that was over a two-month span. Now, in less than a week, we’ve had two conversations, and either I was imagining it, or he was about to ask me out before Garrett interrupted.

I slide into my usual seat next to Nell, who greets me with a smile. “Hey,” she says.

“Hey.” I unzip my bag and grab a notebook and pen. “How was your weekend?”

“Brutal. I had a huge chem test this morning, and I pulled an all-nighter to study for it.”

“How’d you do?”

“Oh, I definitely aced it.” She smiles happily, but the joy fades fast. “Now I just need to do better on this makeup on Friday, and all will be right in the world again.”

“You got my email, right?” I had sent Nell a copy of my midterm earlier in the week, but she hadn’t emailed back.

“I did. Sorry I didn’t respond, but I was focused on chem. I’m planning on reading through your answers tonight.”

A shadow falls over us, and the next thing I know, Garrett slides into the seat beside me. “Wellsy, you got an extra pen?”

Nell’s eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling, and then she stares at me like I’ve sprouted a goatee in the past three seconds. I don’t blame her. We’ve been seat buddies since school started, and not once have I even looked in Garrett Graham’s direction, let alone talked to him.

Nell isn’t the only one who’s fascinated by this new seating arrangement. When I look across the aisle, I find Justin watching us with an indecipherable expression on his face.

“Wellsy? Pen?”

I shift my gaze back to Garrett. “You came to class unprepared? Shocker.” I reach into my bag again and rummage around for a pen, then slap it into his hand.

“Thanks.” He offers that cocky grin of his before opening his notebook to a fresh page. Then he leans forward and peeks over at Nell. “I’m Garrett.”

She gapes at the hand he’s sticking out at her before reaching over to shake it. “Nell,” she says. “Nice to meet you.”

Tolbert arrives just then, and as Garrett turns his attention to the podium, Nell shoots me another WTF look. I bring my lips close to her ear and murmur, “We’re kinda friends now.”

“I heard that,” Garrett pipes up. “And there’s no ‘kinda’ about it. We’re best friends, Nelly. Don’t let Wellsy tell you otherwise.”

Nell giggles softly.

I just sigh.

Our lecture today focuses on some seriously heavy issues. Mainly, the conflict between an individual’s conscience versus responsibility to society. Tolbert uses the Nazis as our example.

Needless to say, it’s a depressing hour and a half.

After class, I’m dying to finish my conversation with Justin, but Garrett has other ideas. Rather than let me linger—or rather, let me make a beeline for Justin—he firmly takes my arm and helps me to my feet. I steal a look at Justin, who walks briskly down the aisle as if he’s trying to catch up to us.

“Ignore him.” Garrett’s voice is barely audible as he guides me out the door.

“But I want to talk to him,” I protest. “I’m pretty sure he was going to ask me out before.”