Locked Out of Spring Break (REWRITING)

Chapter 17: Only Lips And Tongue

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Exiting the building, I catch Jake sitting underneath a tree, writing in a notepad. I prod his way and sit next to him. "How was class today?" I ask, kissing his cheek.

"It was interesting," he replies, "I like all of my professors."

"I like all of my professors except my English teacher," I comment.

Jake laughs, "You only dislike the teacher because English is your least favorite class."

I shake my head. "Not true at all. He's the biggest douche when it comes to understanding."

"Are you still pissed about the whole lecture thing?"

I remark, "Hell yeah I am. He didn't have to get rude with me."

"But, Rico, he has a class of seventy students. Do you think he's going to be patient and slow down lectures for one student?"

I groan, leaning onto his shoulder. "Out of seventy students and you think I was the only one not able to keep up with his pace?"

Jake laughs, "You probably were."

"Still, he didn't have to be an ass."

"Rico, he's not only an ass to you, he's an ass to everyone."

I challenge, "Oh, really?"

"Yes, really," he replies, "Just today, I heard he threw an extra paper for his sophomore class on top of another and when someone brought it up, he said, 'You guys need to learn to make time for this paper.'"

My eyes go big as I sit up. "Glad I'm not a sophomore."

"I bet," he chuckles, kissing my forehead. "Just be glad your English teacher actually tells you about upcoming assignments. My teacher tells us less than a week before a paper's due date, which is irritating. I wish mine were as organized as yours."

"Good point," I agree, "He's so anal, he gave us a schedule of homework and classwork assignments for the entire two semesters."

"College is overwhelming, isn't it?"

"Sure is," I answer, "But overall, I'm enjoying it. The independence above all."

"Me too," he remarks, "However, I could be enjoying university more if my roommate wasn't such a virtuoso."

"Oh, hush," I peck his lips, "You love it."

"Not when I'm awakened by Hans at two in the morning," he retorts.

"But Hans just wanted you to join our bed," I defend playfully, "He felt neglected."

"I don't see how when he gets more attention from you than me."

I pull his case from my shoulder and begin playing him. "But he would like some additional attention from his other daddy," I sing.

Jake leans down, facing Hans, "I'm sorry but I think your real daddy is the tree behind us, Hans."

I make a face at him, ceasing my play on the strings. "Don't tell our child that lie. We're his real parents, not oakey here behind us." Jake opens his mouth to correct me but I stop him, "And I know it's not an oak tree, Mr. Nature. I was just saying."

"Why did I ever get you that damn ukulele?" he groans.

"Because you love me," I remind, in a sing-song voice.

"You're damn right," he climbs on top of me, smothering my face with kisses.

"Not in front of Hans," I joke, but he ignores my warning and continued with his kissing attack.