How to Fail at Flirting(15)

I told him that? Farewell, gin. It’s been real.

    Naya: I was so drunk last night. I shouldn’t.

Jake: You left your sweater in my room. I could give it back to you.



The squeak of boat shoes on the tile pulled me from my phone as Quinton or Quenton slumped toward me, handing me his exam with a sullen expression.

“Is there, like, any extra credit?” he asked without making eye contact.

“This is the last day of class,” I said, my eyes doing a quick skim of the slashes and scratch marks across the first page. I added, adopting the kindest tone I could, “Sorry, but there aren’t any opportunities for extra credit at this point. Maybe you did better than you think.”

“I doubt it,” he mumbled, turning to saunter out of the classroom. “See ya, Dr. Turner,” he called over his shoulder with a two-finger wave. His swagger only faltered for a moment, then he adjusted the sunglasses on his head and strode out into the world. Maybe I could learn a thing or two from Quinton or Quenton.

    Jake: I could sweeten the deal with a joke.

Jake: Who tells the best egg jokes?

Jake: Comedi-hens.



I shook my head and gathered the exams in a pile to walk the short distance back to my office. As I stood, I felt a little taller and, just a little bit, like things might be okay.

    Naya: I’m convinced.



As I stepped into the hall, my phone rang. “Hey, Joe. What’s up? How’s the conference?”

“Naya! Thank God. Are you free tomorrow evening?” He sounded flustered. A cacophony of chatter raged in the background.

“Everything okay?”

“I’m supposed to attend an event hosted by President Lewis tomorrow night. All the department chairs are required to be there, but I’m stuck in Miami. I doubt I’ll get out in time. Can you attend in my place?”

“What kind of event?” I stepped inside my office. I wanted nothing to do with a stuffy gathering of department chairs.

“He’s keeping it hush-hush, but every department needs to be represented, and it’s at the Barth.” Joe sounded frustrated, his words clipped, and he said something away from the phone. Barth House was the president’s mansion. An opulent, columned monstrosity that I tried my best to avoid. The university was a little bit like my high school cafeteria. I learned quickly where I belonged and rarely ventured into the orbit of the popular crowd.

“I don’t know. Shouldn’t someone more senior go?”

“Normally, I’d say yes, but no one is in town. I’m begging you, Naya.”

Maybe being seen at the event would show others on campus I was trusted and important. It couldn’t hurt to mingle with the people who might have a say in my promotion, especially not knowing what was coming. “Okay, boss.”

To do: Figure out what to wear to this thing.





Six





Wait, he asked you out after you threw up on him?” Felicia’s voice rang out through my phone. “Is this a fetish or something?”

I pulled the device away from my ear while trying to keep my towel from slipping. My anxiety at full throttle after arriving home late, I pushed the clothes hanging in my closet aside as I grew frustrated with my lack of date-appropriate apparel. “I didn’t throw up on him. Just . . . near him.”

“Oh, Nay.” Felicia adopted her you’re hopeless tone. “Where do I start?”

“I don’t have time for the lecture, Fel. We’re meeting in, like, an hour, and I’m freaking out.”

“Okay, okay,” Felicia laughed. “What has you so riled?”

“What if he expects sex?”

“Isn’t that why you’re going out with him?”

“No!” I paused in my comparison of two sweater sets. “I mean, maybe? That’s all I wanted the other night, but then he was sweet.” And he’s funny and has kind eyes and I felt safe with him.

“Candy is sweet, but dick is better.”

I laughed, despite my rising panic. “God, Fel. Who says that? Please, be serious. I’m minutes away from losing it.”

“Calm down. If the guy wants it and you don’t, he can go home alone and get acquainted with his right hand.”

“That’s not what has me worried.” I sighed, hanging both sweater sets back in my closet. Shapeless cardigans for a date? C’mon. “I don’t know. You guys talked me into that list, and now I kind of want to try.”

Felicia was silent for a beat, and I imagined her biting her lip, brows knit on the other end of the line as she weighed out how to best advise me. “Here’s what you do. Take a few deep breaths when you start to get worked up. You said he’s here just for the weekend, right? You’ll be careful, so best-case scenario, you have some consequence-free fun. Worst-case scenario, you have an awkward, sexless date. Either way, he leaves town in a few days and life goes on.”

“You’re right,” I huffed, pulling a mint green tank top from the back of my closet. It was a relic from a shopping trip with Felicia, and I’d never even taken the tags off. Stroking the thin knit fabric of the back and letting the sheer, wispy overlay slip between my fingers, I nodded my head. “You’re right. I’m overthinking this.”