Page 43 of More Than Chemical
Her eyes lit up. “Wow, Ade. He’s totally crushing on you.”
“You didn’t hear me. He wants to do calculus-based physics problems together, not add the bed, subtract the clothes, divide the legs, and hope you don’t multiply.”
She laughed, grabbed my hand, and walked me to my closet. After shuffling through my clothes, she pulled out the lowest cut, tightest shirt she could find and held it up to me. “Tonight, when you get together with him, you’re going to wear this.”
I looked down at it. “You must be joking. It’s freezing outside. I need layers.”
“I’m not kidding around here. This, my friend, will be the shirt of true reckoning.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“By wearing this top, you’ll come to understand what kind of person he is. If he’s confident enough to look directly at your chest and not be ashamed to appreciate it, then he’s a bad boy and worth pursuing. If he boldly looks but also says something that makes you feel bad, like your boobs are too big or too small or saggy or something asshole-like, then he’s a jerk. Not worth your time. If he glances but looks away fast, he’s afraid of getting caught. That means he’s a nice guy and also worth pursuing.”
“What if he doesn’t look at all, then what?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, he’ll look. He won’t be able to help himself.”
“I don’t know, Priya. I still think there’s a possibility he’s not interested.”
She shrugged. “Well, if that’s the case, screw him. But I think that’s impossible. He’d never have let you stay in his room or texted you this morning if he wasn’t totally into you.”
“Priya, you know how this works. Engineering students form friendships. We have this instinct to help each other out because otherwise no one would survive our torturous classes.”
“Pshaw.” She brushed lint off the shirt that had now been deemed sexy. “Have you ever kissed Jay?”
“No.”
“Have I?”
She was also in engineering. Computer engineering. “No.”
“See.” She cocked her head and held out the shirt. “Now change.”
I suppressed a low sigh. I didn’t care if he was a nice guy, a bad boy, or even a jerk. I wanted to have sex with him. Still, I’d do it. I’d conduct Priya’s experiment just to find out whether he wanted to be something more than my engineering study buddy.
But first, I’d have to get through dinner with Mom without being forced into a discussion about Dad.
Sixteen
Mom Issues
Alittle later, I jammed a bunch of pamphlets and internet printouts into my backpack along with my physics stuff and went to the lobby to wait for Mom. She pulled up into the loading area right on time, and I jumped into her sedan. I leaned over the center console and hugged her. The smell of her jasmine perfume comforted me.
She was tiny, my mother. Petite in stature, her features fine, and her hair always arranged with that fresh, recently blown effect.
“Hi, sweetie,” she said. “I’ve missed you.”
“Me too.” I gave her a peck on the cheek.
Mom and I had always had a special bond that I’d never had with Dad. Probably because she was the one who encouraged me to do the things I wanted to do without interference or making me feel like a failure. The same could not be said for Dad.
My good relationship with my mom was why I was protective of her. Dad might have made our lives a living hell, but his fraudulent actions and subsequent arrest had taken the greatest toll on her. Eric and I had escaped from home. She was still there.
We drove to her favorite sushi restaurant and found a spot to park on the street. My mouth watered. You couldn’t get this kind of food in the dorm.
The hostess sat us at a small table, and I took my jacket off.
“Don’t you think that shirt is a bit…” Mom flicked her gaze downward.
