Page 92 of Bump and Run

“Mag...”

“That’s so cute!”

“Stop it. She helps me with my math homework. It’s an even trade.”

“I thought you said you two were justhaving fun.”

“It’s a little more than just having fun. Can we drop this, please?”

“Okay,” she says, giggling behind her soda cup.

“So…” I stare Maggie down. “You go to all the theatre showcases but you’ve never once been to one of my games?”

She winces, dropping her grin. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice that…” I laugh and she slaps her hand on the table between us. “Oh, speaking of Mom — her birthday is next Sunday. I was thinking we could head over there and see her instead of coming here…?”

“Fine by me,” I say. “Want me to pick you up?”

Her face contorts. “Um, no. I will pick you up and we’ll take my car. There’s no way I’m getting in that shag wagon of yours.”

“Fair enough.”

“Anyway…” She grabs her purse off the back of her chair. “I need to stop by the campus bookstore. Wanna tag along?”

“No,” I answer. “I have some homework to do, I think…”

“I’ll see you next week then.” She stands up but quickly pauses. “You haven’t dragged Eliza into that van, have you?” Her nose scrunches up her face like a withering sponge.

I hesitate. “Well…”

“Ugh…” She doesn’t even try to hide her disgust. “You’re lucky she even likes you at all…”

“I tell myself that every day.”

“Bye, little brother.”

“Bye, Mag — Wait. You think she likes me?”

She grins down at me. “Have you thought of asking her that?”

I shake my head. “We’re not allowed to be together.”

“It kind of sounds like you already are, Junior.”

She squeezes my shoulder as she passes by and I sit back to absorb the situation.

Eliza has been pretty clear from the start that this isn’t serious. It can’t be. That’s rule number one. We hang out, we have sex, we study and read lines. No emotions necessary. No need to second guess anything we say or do because it’s all on the surface. I scratch her back, she scratches mine. It’s a nice arrangement.

But then why did I rush over there like that last night? Why did she even let me in? Why didn’t either of us complain when we were cuddling on her bed?

Because you’re dating her, you fucking moron.

I reach for my phone, instinct driving for me to call her but I drop it back down. I don’t even know what I’d say to her. I just want to hear her voice.

Shit. I really do like her. No, that’s not enough.

I’m fucking crazy about her.

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