Page 26 of Easy Out

“I think we should expose the library. We can write a story about what really happens in the alcoves and dark corners of this place.”

I study Lauren for a moment as she chews her bottom lip. “If you had something else in mind. I’m all ears.” I don’t have anything. I haven’t thought past the fact that I’m being forced to spend more time with Lauren.

“Fine. The library.”

“Great. Perfect. I can put together an outline. Then we can meet up a few nights a week to investigate. According to the syllabus,” Lauren pulls out the packet we received last week from Morelli's TA, “We have six weeks to pull this off.”

Six weeks isn’t a lot of time to do all the research and write something worth a decent grade. On the other end of the spectrum, it’s too much time with Lauren.

“And the other assignment?” Lauren questions. “I don’t want to be difficult or anything, but there are a lot of things I don’t talk about. Especially with strangers.” She looks at me behind a frame of dark lashes.

“I’m a stranger?” Why do I find this insulting? Even though she isn’t far off base. Lauren doesn’t know me, and I don’t know her, but I’m not a stranger.

“Nothing personal. I don’t talk about myself like that.” Lauren just became a lot more interesting. What is she trying to keep secret?

“Too bad.” I’m being an asshole. I don’t care. “I’m not going to get a bad grade because you don’t want to talk to me. Weren’t you complaining about me not talking to you at lunch? You’re being a little hypocritical.”

“Yes, but this is different.” Lauren clutches onto the pen in her hand so hard her knuckles go white.

“How?”

“It just is, Hart.”

“I have my reasons for my silence, and you have yours. I don’t see how one reason is better than the other.” Lauren closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Fine. I don’t want a bad grade, either. If you don’t want to do a questionnaire, then you will have to talk to me too.”

I lean in closer to Lauren. Two more inches, and I could run my nose up the slender column of her neck. Something that seems more appealing by the second. “You want me to talk brujita? Make me talk.”

“About what?” Lauren asks.

“Anything.”

“That is a dangerous word.” I raise an eyebrow as if to say, ‘try me‘. “Why did you come to Newhouse?” She asks tentatively.

“Scholarship.”

“You only got one offer?”

“No.”

“Then why Newhouse?”

“I grew up around here. My familia is still here. I didn’t want to go far away. What about you?“ I figure it’s safe to throw the question back at her.

“Scholarship.” She smirks, copying my answer.

“You didn’t get an offer for a school in Seattle?” Lauren tenses at the mention of Seattle. She had a similar reaction when Enzo brought up the city. She left for a reason. I want to find out why.

“How did your parents feel about you going to school across the country?”

“They didn’t care,” she answers quickly. Too quickly. “What’s your major?” She asks before I can dig deeper into her parents.

“Journalism. You?” Lauren turns toward me in her chair. Her short legs nestle in between mine. Even without touching, the position is cozy.

“English with a minor in journalism.”

“Why?”

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