Page 6 of Still Here Without You

“So, I’m shocked to find you home, to be honest,” I say, changing the subject.

“Bree had to meet up with her study group or something; we’re catching up later.” Bree is the current girlfriend. He’s lucky I pay attention because sometimes it would be hard to keep up.

“Gotcha. How’s it going with her? You seem to be home a lot more lately.” I look back over my shoulder to gauge his reaction. I already know the real answer, but I wonder if he’ll actually say it out loud. It’s easy to see that she’s in love with him and he’s not feeling it.

“It’s good…it’s…” I raise an eyebrow. “Honestly, I’m not there yet. She seems to have more feelings than I do, but that might change.”

It won’t.

One day he’ll find the one, but she’s not it. I honestly have no idea why he keeps jumping from relationship to relationship. But hey, I’m single; who am I to judge?

Sensing that Dylan doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, I lean back on my hands and look to the sky. A feeling of anticipation takes over, and my heart starts racing.What’s that about?

Ignoring it, I clear my thoughts and launch into a conversation about sports, taking my mind off girl talk completely.

Chapter Three

Joel

I’mrunninglateagain,and this time Iknowwithout a doubt that Delilah’s going to be sitting in that room waiting for me when I arrive, with a smug look on her face. Dylan was probably right. This tutoring shit is not for me. I’m all for helping people. It’s what I’m studying to do. But having to go over a textbook for a class I’m already done with is a bore. Lucky for me, Delilah keeps it interesting. “I know, I know. I’m late,” I say, lacking enthusiasm as I enter the room.

Delilah’s leaning back in her chair with a pen between her teeth, almost exactly like I’d imagined it, in a skirt that’s entirely too short for anything on campus. It shows off her toned legs more than the shorts did and hints at…Not why I’m here.She runs her fingers across her lips as though she’s zipping them shut and then leans forward until the feet of her chair touch back down to the ground. I follow the movement and only snap out of my daze when a loud thud pulls my attention. Delilah bites back a smile as she rearranges the books she just dropped on the table.

“Who’s distracted now?” she asks, with that smug look I was expecting.

Touché. I’m very distracted. But that word brings me back to the topic.

“Oh, about that…I realized if you don’t have Travers, then you must have Fletcher. She’s renowned for throwing curveballs on her tests. I can help you get around that.”

Delilah’s eyes light up in surprise. “Really? Thank you.”

I laugh. “Don’t thank me until you pass.”

“Shit, you’re right. That was foolish of me. For all I know, you could be all talk. Have you even passed this subject? What are you studying? What are you planning to be when you grow up?”

I laugh at her questioning, shaking my head. “When I grow up?”

“Yep. Unless, of course, you don’t know yet and you’re just studying for the sake of it, to experiencecollegelife.” The way she says college suggests she’s actually not referring to college at all. She’s way off base.

“That’s me,” I deadpan. “Just messing around. Even this tutoring gig is one big game to me.”

“Ha-ha,” she says, matching my tone. “Love the sarcasm. Although, the last one is probably true.”

I shrug to give a noncommittal answer. It definitely started out that way, but I’m not going to screw her over.

“The plan is to eventually get into child psychology,” I say honestly, shocking her.

Delilah’s eyes snap to mine with a hesitant gaze until it changes to a genuine smile, suggesting she’s now taking me seriously. “Wow! That’s amazing, Joel. You must love kids.”

“I do. And I love the idea of being able to help them, and teenagers too. I’ve got a long way to go, but that’s the endgame.”

Delilah puts her elbows on the table and rests her face on her hands. “I’m impressed. You may have earned yourself a little more respect.”

“Gosh, thank you. Wow. That means so much to me,” I gush, but it’s obviously fake.

“Ass.”

“Yep.” I own it.

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