“She better not!” I hear Ty’s voice a second later.
“Hey, what’s up?” I say to him as I start flipping over every single one of Rowe’s drawers. It’s a tricky prank, because I have to hold her clothes inside with one arm while I slide them in. I spend a little longer than I should on her underwear and bras, which Ty points out immediately.
“This is a new level of creepy, bro. Even for you,” he says, stopping right next to me, but reaching his arms over to help me hold her clothing in.
“Just a little prank,” I smile.
“Oh, that’s a good one. I’m in. This one Cass’s?” he asks, pointing to the dresser next to Rowe’s. I just shrug because honestly the only things I’ve ever noticed in this room all belong to Rowe.
Ty slides the top-drawer open and pulls out a bra, holding it in front of him and squeezing the cups. “Yeah, this is hers. I recognize this lovely little thing,” he says, and I roll my eyes at him. “What? Just because you can’t close a deal like I can, don’t give me shit.”
For some reason, what he says makes me start to think about how I feel about Rowe. And yeah, I want to kiss her. And yeah, I want to remind myself what those cotton panties look like again. And there are probably a million other things that involve her that I would never say no to. But I’m not in a hurry. And for some reason, I feel like Rowe is holding back with me, sort of glad I’m not pushing.
“Hey, you really like Cass, huh?” I say, flipping over her bottom drawer and pressing my arms up to hold in the heavy jeans.
Ty just sighs, never answering, which is enough for me. He really likes her, and that’s kind of a first for him. I just hope he doesn’t do something stupid to make it impossible for me to come to this room again.
I’m about to push the last drawer in all the way when I feel a pile of something slide out onto my foot. I push the drawer in just enough so I can let go and feel my hands along the floor. At first I think they’re playing cards, but then I pull them out to look at them and realize they’re photos—photos of Rowe…with the boyfriend. I slide the drawer in the rest of the way and sit back on her bed to flip through them.
The first one is of her and him in what looks like her parents’ driveway, and they’re dressed in formal wear, like they’re going to some dance. Then there are a couple of pictures of them at a swimming pool. He’s lifting her, and threatening to jump into the water. She’s laughing in the photo, and it strikes me that I’ve never seen her laugh like this.
“Hey, dude? Do you know if Rowe...does she…” I’m almost afraid to ask, so I just flip the last picture over and hand it to him. It’s a picture of the same guy, kissing her on the cheek, and she’s literally squealing with happiness. “Does she have a boyfriend?”
Ty takes the photo in, looking at it for a long time before finally shrugging and handing it back to me. “No idea. You should probably ask.”
It’s the last thing on the planet I want to ask. Mostly because it’s the last answer on the planet I want to hear…unless the answer is no.
I help Ty with the last couple drawers, and we lock their door from the inside to bring it back to a close. When we pass the elevator, I hear Paige laughing while she talks on her phone, and she holds a finger up to try to get our attention, but we both keep moving, pretending not to see it. Ty’s eyes turn sideways to catch mine, and we both laugh quietly.
“Dude, I can’t stand that chick! How is it that I’m crazy about her sister?” Ty says, and I know he just answered my question from earlier, but he doesn’t want me to make a big deal out of it. So I don’t. And instead, I focus on the first part.
“She has great tits!” I say, waiting for him to respond.
“Ah, that’s a good point. Way to focus on the positive. She does indeed have great tits,” Ty says, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on to Sports Center.
Rowe
I call my mom on my walk back from class. I don’t like talking to her in front of other people, so I try to time our conversations for my walks. That, and the distraction helps me focus on something other than the wide-open spaces, and cars, and people milling around.
After filling her in on my first day’s schedule, and running through my list of professors to see if there’s anyone she knows, which she knows two of them, I move on to the regular litany of questions. Am I sleeping? How are my roommates? Am I really making friends? Have I called Ross?
I called Ross right before I called my mom, but I don’t tell her that. I slipped up once, telling her I called Ross first for something and her feelings were hurt. I can’t handle guilt trips—I have enough. So I just lie instead, and tell her I’m calling Ross next. I feel like if I ever have to stand before some supreme being who gets to decide if I get into heaven and he brings up this lie—it was warranted. I’d like to think the ultimate judge in this case would understand.