Commencement (West Hampton U: Part 2)

Chapter 9 ● Oops

-- Suhana--

I run my finger up the length of his torso, up the side of his lean neck, and along his sharp jawline- hidden behind that womanizer beard- until it rests under the tip of his chin. I smile lazily, enjoying the way his eyes darken and his jaw flexes, like he just can't hold back any longer.

I lean forward until my lips are only a breath away from his. I hear his sharp inhale before I say, "not a chance," and then use my finger to push his face away. I anticipate his next move and roll to the end of the couch as he face plants into where I was just sitting, groaning loudly.

"You are such a tease," his voice is muffled into the couch.

I hold my legs to my chest as I laugh with my head leaning over the armrest. There are tears pooling in my eyes. "You are so easy."

He rolls his head to the side, still lumped into the cushions of the couch. "I think I'm going to jump in front of a train now."

"Oh man up," I snort, going to check on Caspian. He still seems to be sleeping soundly. When I come back to the living room, Ruhaan is flipping through one of my class notebooks I had left on the bottom level of the coffee table. "Put that away," I demand and go to snatch it out of his hands but he moves it away.

"What is this?" he snickers, trying to read the pages despite my swatting at him.

"It's from my first year English class. It was a mandatory class," I gripe.

"You suck," he's still laughing as he hands me the notebook back.

I glower at him as I tuck the notebook away at the bottom of the pile of other notebooks there. "Like you could do better? What's your major again? Oh yeah, not English."

He scoffs. "I could run circles around you Miss Sparksnotes."

"Okay," I sit cross-legged on the armchair and lean back leisurely, ready for another opportunity to laugh my ass off at him. "Since you're such a Shakespeare, write me a poem."

"Fine," he grabs a notebook from the top of the pile and flips open to an empty page. "On what topic?"

I ponder it for a second. The AC was off and the remnants of the cool air had disappeared, leaving the room to get warmer with each passing minute. All I could think of was a glass of cold, icy lemonade. "Lemonade."

Ruhaan nods and then starts to scribble. I watch him amusedly. His eyebrows furrow in such concentration that you'd think he was on the free throw line at a Game 7. But Ruhaan was always like that, giving his 101% when asked to do anything. I shouldn't be surprised. He even puts in 101% to drive me crazy.

A few minutes later, he looks up at me with an accomplished grin, like a child about to show off their best fingerpainting.

"Hit me," I say.

He clears his throat dramatically and begins. "I don't mean to cause you trouble, and of your work I wish not to double. But on this hot day, I'd pray for some lemonade, in heavy jugs for you which I would happily juggle."

I choke on air. "You wrote a dirty limerick?" He nods proudly. "You probably just got that off some inappropriate website," I accuse.

"All pure talent baby," he grins. "Give me another word, watch the master work."

"Fine," I cross my arms annoyedly. No way he could do it twice in a row with a more difficult word that didn't rhyme with much. "Your word is 'next'."

Once again, he scribbles furiously for a few minutes before looking up at my again. "There once was a boy who lived next door. His sexiness she tried so hard to ignore. Eventually she agreed, and he gave her what he knew she'd need, until she spent all night begging for more."