Genevieve
FORD HOLDS A HOT CHOCOLATE.
But it's not morning. It's way past morning. It's the middle of the afternoon and Talia, Quinn and I are all seated in one of the on-campus cafeterias for a late lunch. And yet Ford looks like he's not long woken up, the skin under his eyes not marred by his seemingly habitual dark purple crescents.
Talia and Quinn are utterly gobsmacked by Ford's materialisation at our table with a peace offering for me. He's standing up so we're all tilting our heads backwards, but he doesn't seem perturbed. At first his gaze did slide to both of them, albeit only fleetingly, until he focused entirely on me. Several other people have shifted around in their seats to witness the notorious Ford Brody gifting someone a hot chocolate featuring only pink marshmallows piled atop the tantalising chocolate aroma that's assaulting my nostrils.
"I fucked up," Ford greets.
In my periphery, Talia and Quinn—they're sitting next to one another—both exchange a mirroring perplexed expression. I'm conflicted whether I should still be harbouring the same annoyance I experienced this morning when I was leaving my house without my customary hot chocolate from him, but it's since abated during the day. I've texted him and called, sure, and he's not responded.
And right now... I'm feeling strangely chill. I'm relaxed. Ford's here now, which is all that matters, right?
And I'm not sure what it is. What I'm feeling.
My headache has long since gone. I woke up this morning feeling refreshed and thinking of Ford, desiring nothing more than a repeat of what happened last time in my bedroom. Or on his motorcycle. Or in the backseats of his Audi like I know he was lusting for last night.
I've been looking out for him all day, hopeful and eager to catch a glimpse of him somewhere, even it would have just been a fleeting one. My body's craving him in ways akin to how Harris and I were when we first dated, but maybe more intensely. I want to be with him as much as I can and the need to impress him is incapacitating.
To cap it all off, I'm dressed in boots, tights, a yellow and black miniskirt and a black cropped long-sleeve T-shirt that cuts off right at the waistband of my skirt. As I'm leaning over slightly, I already know that part of my lower back is exposed, but I don't give a fuck. I'm aware Ford's already spotted the bare skin that's visible just for his enticement, and it's beginning to crack my resolve.
I don't know what's happened to me suddenly to be experiencing this whirlwind of emotions, but I feel fucking fantastic. And now that Ford's finally arrived with my hot chocolate, I'm thrilled. I'm anxious to leave and make up for lost time already.
I have no idea what's suddenly gotten into me, I think.
"We'll talk later," I promise, my skin flushing gently as he places the hot chocolate in front of me, and there's not a hint of irritation lacing my words.
And takes that as his cue to sit beside me.
Gobsmacked, I glimpse at a bemused Talia and Quinn and ask, "Uh, don't you have a lecture or anything?"
"Nope. Missed them all this morning." His casualness and impassiveness are so quintessentially him that I bark out a breathy chuckle, and he shoots me a disarming wink that Talia and Quinn can't see.
Both the girls are cautious around him and they only broach extremely safe topics such as assignments. But then Talia braves it and point-blank interrogates Ford on his intention with me, even though he's been patiently and staggeringly tapping on his phone while he waits for us to finish so we can be alone. Though my knee bounces as a nervous habit, I'm keen to see how well behaved he'll be around my friends, and what his answer will be, of course.
