Page 41 of Hunter
Three dots appear, and I glance at him from my end of the table while he types out something.
Hunter “Pendejo” Wilton:
Time’s up, Ed. Send him packing.
Me:
Where’d you learn how to tell time?
He’s got at least ten minutes left.
Hunter “Pendejo” Wilton:
Not today, he doesn’t.
I’m done waiting.
Before I can text him back, this man is outta his seat and already three-quarters of the way down the length of the table.Does he have his ice skates on? How’d he get over here in five seconds?
“Alright, man, that’s it for today. Time to go,” he demands while hovering over Mr. Dumb-as-a-diving board, with a look on his face that is one part intimidating and one part hot as hell.
“I have eight minutes left,” the swimmer responds while checking his fancy watch.
“Don’t care, you’re done.”
“No fucking way, I paid the tutor forty bucks to get me on her schedule because I heard she’s the best one they have. So I’m getting my money’s worth. I’m not going anywhere, man.”
“Fine, you stay and work on your eighth-grade homework. But she’s coming with me.” This man grabs my bag with one hand and my hand with the other, yanks me up and outta the chair before heliteralmentepulls me across the library.
He doesn’t stop power-walking until we’re deep in the aisles of forgotten books, and I shove his hand away.
“What the hell, Hunter, I told you he had time left.” He might be an idiot, but that doesn’t mean the session ends early.
“Too bad, I couldn’t wait any longer.” He inches closer and searches my face with pleading puppy dog eyes like he’s begging me for something. His tongue darts out, and he licks his bottom lip before his teeth sink into the pink flesh.
“For what? What couldn’t wait a few extra minutes?”
“This.” He tilts his face toward mine, tipping my world off its axis. “Now,dame un beso, hermosa (Now, kiss me, beautiful).”
TWENTY-ONE
When she sentme to the end of the fucking world to take a seat so that she could tutor HU’s number one swimmer and national team prospect, I downloaded Duolingo and Google Translate to my phone. Then I opened up my Notes app and started making a list of the shit she says, along with the shit I want to learn to say back to her.
This little brat calls me all sorts of names.Cabrón, pendejo, idiota.We're gonna work on getting her to call memi amornext.“Hey Siri, how do you say, 'I’m cooked,' in Spanish?
Andnovio. I looked it up, and it means boyfriend. I’ve never been a boyfriend to someone, but I want to be that for her. Just her.Her boyfriend. Ed’s novio. Her man.
Whenever having a girlfriend or being with someone romantically was brought up, I always felt like I was having a fucking heart attack. My body would literally reject the word relationship, let alone the idea of me being in one.
But when I think about Ed, I can feel my heart beating. I felt it double and triple in size today, making room for her. That’s how I know this shit is real.
And speaking of real, the last time she and I were in this library together, I did one of the most impulsive things that I’ve ever done. I kissed her like I needed her air to breathe. And then she slapped me so hard that I jizzed in my pants a little. I knew it then, just like I know it now. I was seriously into her.
I’ve thought about that kiss a lot, and being back in the library with her felt like the perfect opportunity for a redo. But this time, I asked her for a kiss instead of just taking it. I’m never gonna take anything from her ever again. I’m gonna ask and earn it.
I tested out my new game plan when I leaned into her personal space while staring into her eyes. These two black holes sucked me in with their crazy gravitational pull. I was completely absorbed in her beauty.
I stood there and silently prayed to this demon to let me in. I wanted her permission. Permission to pour gasoline all over the sparks that flickered between us. I wanted to set us on fire. I wanted to see how bright we could burn together.
