The Espressologist

11

"This is a nice surprise. What did I do to earn an escort to class?" I ask.

Em and I are powerwalking up West Jackson Boulevard on the way to my English class at the college.

"I have a pass to go to the college library and do some research for a paper, so I thought I'd just keep you company for a few," Em replies.

Ha. Yeah, right. She knows Cam is in my English class.

I'm sure she just wants to "bump" into him.

"Thanks. You're a sweetie. So, did I tell you the latest with Will?" I can barely keep the excitement out of my voice.

"No, you didn't. Tell me, tell me," she says.

"He came in last night and was totally flirting."

"Obviously."

"No, really, I didn't know what to expect. I know he explained away the whole Thanksgiving thing, but I wasn't sure if I believed him or not. But now I do. He's so cute," I say.

"And cute boys never lie. Kidding!" she exclaims when I scowl at her.

"Like everyone else who came in yesterday, he wanted to talk to me about the whole Espressology thing."

"Of course," she says, grabbing my arm and steering me around a homeless guy sitting in front of a building and yelling at people to give him money.

"He looked deep into my eyes and told me he was lonely and really hoped he could find love, too. He totally had me in a trance. I could hardly talk," I tell her.

"No way. What did you do?"

"I told him to stop in on Friday night and I'd see what I could do," I say.

"Cool! I work this Friday night, too. So is he coming?"

"Uh, no."

"Why not?"

"Some fraternity thing. But he promised to come in next Friday. I told him we are only doing this for four weeks," I say.

"You are going to match him with you, right?"

"Duh. Of course. But I feel kind of bad about it."

"Why in the world would you feel bad about it?"

"Because I checked my notebook and we are not exactly a match."

"Rough," Em says.

"I know, but he has to be mine. I'll just have to fudge this one.

"Definitely," Em agrees as we approach the door to my school.

''This is me.''

"Um, okay." She looks up and down the sidewalk. I can tell she's looking for Cam. "Are you working tonight?"

"You already asked me that," I reply. "Are you okay?"

Just then Cam turns the corner and heads straight for us.

"Hi, Cam," Em says dreamily. Cam opens his mouth to respond.

"I'll leave you two to talk," I announce before he can say anything. I really don't need to hear any lovey-dovey gush between those two. I head into the school and toward my classroom.

I take my seat and shrug off my jacket. Although I don't want to, I'm thinking about Cam and Em and wondering what they are talking about outside. I don't have long to think, though, because Cam comes in only a minute or so later and slides into his seat behind me.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey." I briefly glance back at him. "How's it going?"

"Not bad," I answer, still facing forward. "Can you turn around?" he asks.

I want to stay mad at him for what he wrote in his biography of me, but it is hard. I turn around. "Yes?" I ask.

"Hey," he says again. "Hey," I say again.

"I just wanted to see you smile," he tells me, and my heart defrosts like thirty degrees. "Last day of class, huh?"

"I know," I reply. "Did you get your final paper done?"

"Yeah, you?" he asks. "Barely. It's been a crazy week."

"So I hear."

What exactly did he hear? I wonder. Does Em talk about me to him? Oh god, they have this whole separate relationship and they talk about me!

It's silent for a moment, and we are just looking at each other. A tuft of his shaggy blond hair is almost over his right eye, and I suddenly have the urge to brush it back for him. But I resist. It's not nice to brush back other people's boyfriends' hair. Especially not your best friend's boyfriend.

"Do you remember what I said you could do on the last day?" he asks.

I sit for a moment thinking. "No ..."

He reaches into his folder and pulls out some stapled sheets. "I said you could read the paper I wrote on you."

"Oh, no thanks," I say, suddenly feeling a little angry again.

"Aren't you curious?" He looks at me with a puzzled expression.

"No. Why would I be?" I lie.

Cam lays the paper faceup on his desk and shrugs.

"Okay. That's fine." He scribbles something in the corner of the paper and his pencil breaks. "Shoot. Be right back." He stands and walks to the pencil sharpener near the door.

I can't help it. I grab the paper and flip to the last page, last paragraph, and read as fast as possible.

If there was one thing Jane could use more of its confidence. Because everyone else can see what Jane doesn't see–she's much smarter, stronger, and more beautiful than she realizes. And that is just a matter of time, because when she does, the Melissas of the world had better watch out.

Huh? Cam thinks I'm beautiful? Leave it to me to jump right to that. He said I was other stuff, too. Out of the corner of my eye I see Cam begin to turn away from the pencil sharpener and I quickly shut his paper. I can feel my face flush.

Cam sits down at his desk and cocks his head.

"Everything all right?"

"Um, yeah. Sure." I glance down at the paper. Oh, crap. It's turned a good forty-five degrees farther to the left than how Cam had it. Does he notice?

"You look like you want to say something."

"No, not really." Except do you really think the things you wrote in your paper about me being strong and smart and stuff? But I can't exactly say that.

I turn around as Professor Monroe comes in and tosses her briefcase on her desk. I look at Cam once more.

"I just wanted to say that I'm really happy for you and Em.

I'm glad you guys found each other. It must be nice to have such a special connection with someone."

Cam's eyebrows scrunch up, and he's got that weird, wounded look on his face again, like that day we were at Wired Joe's working on our papers.

"I hope I find love someday, too," I add.

Nice. Now I'm just babbling. Somebody turn me off! I quickly face the front and close my eyes. Darn. That love thing was going too far, wasn't it? What if he and Em haven't exchanged the three big words yet? She'll be pissed.

I can feel Cam staring at the back of my head, but there is no way I'm turning around again for the rest of class.