Page 269 of Lilah
"No ma'am."
"Yes sir."
"No ma'am."
"Yessir."
"No ma'am."
"Okay," she shrugs and gets up. My eyebrows furrow because I know it's not that easy. She grabs Bear's leash by the door.
"Where are you going?" I wonder.
"Me and Bear and going to the park to attract nail artists. Preferably men," she hooks the leash onto his collar.
I sigh.
Knowing her, she'd go around the fucking park asking these people to paint her nails. She'd get excited when some random old creepy dude says he'll do it and then she'll get kidnapped.
"Get over here and sit your ass down," I roll my eyes when she smiles victoriously. She trots back over to me and she takes a seat next to me, throwing her arms around my neck.
"I knew you'd do it Sugar," she kisses my lips, "because you're just so sweet, aren't you?"
"Mhm," I hum, kissing her back deeply.
She pulls away and I'm left following her lips with mine. She giggles backing away from me.
"So," she picks up the color and opens it. She takes a couple of minutes to show me how to do it. It can't be that hard. It's like painting. I'm no fucking painter but this is basics.
"So..?" I trail off, wondering what she was going to say before. It's not like her to not talk. At all.
I slowly drag the brush along her ring finger, flitting my eyes up to hers.
"I was thinking of going to college," she gives me a hesitant smile. I pause for a minute before continuing.
I know it's something she's wanted to do.
"Yeah?" I mumble. A slight fit of nervousness contracts my chest. If my hands weren't already occupied, I'd already been messing with the scrunchie on my wrist.
"Which one?" I keep my eyes focused on her hands.
"UTK," she says softly. It's a four-year college. In Knoxville.
Knoxville isn't that far from here. About an hour depending on traffic.
Still fucking far from me.
"I looked into dorm room exemptions for freshmen and there really isn't any category I fit into," she explains.
"But that only means that we just need to wait a year and then I can come back here!" she adds quickly.
"Well I mean, if I make it into the school," she rambles on.
"You'll make it," I give her a smirk that seems to fade within seconds. I remain quiet for the most part.
I'm happy for her. She's happy, I'm happy. We're just going to have to be happy without seeing each other almost every second of the day.
Ifshe makes it. She may have zero common sense but she's smart, she'll make it.
