Page 7 of Call Me Teach

Hayes is going to lose his shit.

We have one rule at the apartment, and it’sno parties.

Tell me why Van has a plethora of people surrounding him in the living room with music spilling out of the Bluetooth speaker and multiple bottles of hard liquor laid out.

“Bro, really?” I rest my palms against the counter. “What are all these people doing here?”

He smirks. “Celebrating.”

“Celebrating what?” I slide my gaze to the blonde on the couch who keeps staring at me.

Van pauses, and I bring my attention back to him. He thinks for a moment and then shrugs. “Life?”

I snicker and reach for something less potent than the vodka and tequila. “Hayes is going to kill you. You know he hates parties.”

Van rolls his eyes and grabs a bottle. “Hayes is at the library, getting tutored by some nerd he secretly wants to fuck between the aisles of books. He won’t be home for a while.”

As if on cue, the front door opens.

I prepare for Hayes to immediately throw everyone out the second he walks into the living room, but to my surprise, it’s not Hayes.

It’s our other roomie: Hannah.

“Hannah!” Van strides over to her and throws his arm around her shoulders. Confusion blankets her face until she eyes all the alcohol laid out and multiple people in the living room—also known as her bedroom.

My lips roll together to suppress a laugh.

Like brother, like sister. Hannah huffs with anger, and the apples of her cheeks turn red.

“Van! I thought there was a house rule of no parties?!” Her arms cross against her jacket. She looks to me for help, but the only thing I do is tip my beer back and take a swig.

“This isn’t a party.” He’s nonchalant. “Don’t tell me you’ve never been to a real party, Hannah Banana.”

I watch her closely. Her eyes narrow with annoyance, and I can’t help but feel slightly excited by it.

My beer bottle clanks when I place it back on the counter, pulling her attention to me versus Van—something I’m sort of….pleased with?

“I don’t think she knows how to party,” I say casually. “I mean, she doesn’t even know how to…” I let my sentence linger.

Hannah’s spine straightens.

I smile.

She knows exactly what I was about to say. No one else has any idea…but she does.

Her hefty sigh travels all the way across the open space and hits me right in the face. She flings Van’s arm from her shoulders and heads right for me.

“You’re a dick,” she whispers, leaning extra close to me.

I’m really not a dick, but it’s too much fun to poke at her.

“No”—I lean in closer—“but I do have one that you can use if you want.”

She gasps, and I chuckle.

“Relax, Hannah Banana. I’m just fucking you.”

Her face flames.

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