Page 164
“Honey. It’s Christmas.”
“I know what it is. It’s not some big life decision. It’s one Christmas. I don’t want to see him.” My voice doesn’t come out like I want it to. “I’m at class.”
“Nash—”
I hang up.
I walk the rest of the way to the science building with the phone in my fist and my ears ringing. I sit down in the third row of a lecture I’m already two chapters behind in. I don’t look at my phone again. I don’t go find something to break. I sit there and don’t learn anything for fifty minutes.
Class lets out, and my phone buzzes. I don’t want to look at it, and I look at it anyway. Kylie. It’s a picture of her eating a banana, and every muscle in my body tightens.
Kylie: Bananas for you.
I stare at the picture. The banana is peeled halfway, and her lips are wrapped around a good third of it. I’m still furious, and now I’m horny.
Another text comes through. A picture of an orange.
Kylie: That’s an orange.
I heart them both and start typing.
Me: Lucky banana.
I put my phone away and head to my next class, and it buzzes again before I’ve made it down the stairs.
Kylie: Could be you.
I stop in the middle of the stairwell.
Me: Tonight.
She sends a laughing emoji.
Me: 9.
Kylie: Bossy boyfriend.
35
My Boyfriend, Apparently
Kylie
Wednesday night, I’m on Nash’s bed with my laptop on my knees and my paper open, watching him pack for the away games. Everything comes out of the bag first, and then it goes back in, in an order. He rolls his socks. He checks the side pocket twice. There’s a little bag inside his big bag with tape in it, and he opens it, looks at the tape, and closes it again.
“That’s a lot,” I tell him, watching his process.
“You should be writing your paper,” he says, not looking at me.
“I’m taking a break.”
“You’ve been taking a break for twenty minutes.”
He pulls his shirt over his head on his way to the drawer for a different one, and I lose my entire train of thought.
That’s my boyfriend.
I’ve been doing that all day. It’ll happen in the middle of something completely normal, like him checking a skate lace or telling me my intro’s too long or eating, and my brain will just go, that’s your boyfriend.
