"Why are college kids so dumb?" Beverly asked aloud as they entered the local art museum.
She felt Griffin's eyes on the side of her as he absorbed her words. "Uh. Is that rhetorical?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe?" She considered it for a moment, then shook her head. "No, it's genuine. Why are kids so dumb?"
Griffin snorted with amusement, his body warm against hers as he stepped closer to avoid a frazzled father herding a pack of young kids. "A lot of reasons. I was dumb because I had too many hormones and thought rebellion was the best way to deal with grief."
She tucked that clue away for later.
"Most kids are dumb for those reasons, but there are others. Some are forced into it, some actually enjoy being stupid, and some just think that death isn't real." A glance up at him showed his hazel orbs were glazed and faraway. "Sucks when they realize it is." He shook himself from his daze as they stopped before a large depiction of a tornado made of flowers and kind words. "Who's being dumb?"
"Art is so fascinating. I bet tornadoes would be way cooler if they were made of things like 'flowers are the way we connect to nature' instead of damaging winds. Have you heard about what's going on at my school?"
It took Griffin a beat to catch up with her nonsensical ramble. It was his fault, though; he'd added an extra shot of espresso to her mocha that morning. Of course, she'd been the one yawning, but, to her credit, she hadn't wanted to miss out on the opportunity to spend time with him, since he'd actually been the one to ask if she wanted to visit the museum's newest exhibits.
"I've heard about it," his voice was tense, but his posture even stiffer, and she wondered if his obvious discomfort had anything to do with the 'things' he'd done in his past. "Are you staying safe?"
Gah. So sweet.
"Sure am, Griff. Thankfully, I don't participate in those activities." His shoulders remained taut, so she added, "Not that I judge those who do. Like you said, there are a lot of reasons people do things like that." She decided not to mention the feeling in her gut warning her that Deb was up to no good. Just because her roommate was acting weird, didn't necessarily mean that Deb was involved with drugs . . .
Or, that was what she was going to tell herself for the moment, anyway.
"It's okay, Beverly," he murmured, nudging her shoulder gently with his. "I know what you mean. Regardless of the reason, please be careful, alright? People like that . . ." he blew out a heavy breath, dragging a hand through his hair. "People like that get dangerous quickly. Just . . . be careful."
Reaching over, she grabbed the hand nearest to her and squeezed his fingers, inwardly thrilled when he returned the gesture and didn't release her for several beats. "I will. Don't worry too much, okay? I know I can be a bit headstrong, and my mom still calls me her little detective sometimes, but I doubt I'll run into any of that stuff." Her roommate seemed far more the type, after all, and Beverly avoided Deb's friends at all costs.
Her words seemed to appease her newest friend, and the air between them returned to being relaxed, as it normally was. They moved to the next piece of art, and Griffin halted.
"Is it a plate?" He asked, a cute wrinkle in his nose as he squinted at the various shapes and obnoxious colors. "Or another tornado? Abstract never did agree with me."
Beverly laughed, patting him on the shoulder jokingly. "Oh, that's alright, Griffin; not everyone has the imagination for abstract. At least now I know not to ask you why you've never delved into that genre."
YOU ARE READING
I Like You a Latte {Completed}
Romance"You're my favorite thing." He croaked. "You're all I have left . . . I don't know what I would do if you left me." *** A story built on coffee, awkward glances, dark pasts, too many puns, and one girl's uncanny ability to find trouble. Oh, and lov...