Chapter 99

Ardal

“Ardal, your boyfriend’s looking for you.”

I spin around to see Meg. Her auburn hair is spilling out of messy braids underneath her yellow umbrella.

I bristle immediately. “He knows where I’m at! Or would, if he bothered to listen.”

Meg shrugs awkwardly, not expecting my disgruntled response. “He’s in the library,” she says, raising an eyebrow.

I huff and start off, cringing as she calls out, “Nice poncho!”

Boiling over internally, I stomp halfway across campus tramping through puddles and slick mud in my sneakers as fat rain droplets fall onto my face.

I arrive at the library, heave open the heavy door, and attempt to dry my shoes on a drenched mat before I pull down the hood of the black plastic cape. Water is dripping off of it and pooling at my feet. I can’t shake off the water like an umbrella, so in an absurd effort to keep it from continuously dripping, I take a couple of springy jumps onto the mat.

Where is he?

My sneakers squeak as I march through rows of books and tables with study groups. I avert my eyes to avoid any judgment of my plastic-rustling figure.

“Ardal!”

His voice comes in a whisper-shout across the library, near the reception desk.

He is immediately shushed and glared at, but ignores it and half-jogs over to me.

He yanks me into a deserted aisle of books - a section on Newtonian physics.

“What in God’s name are you wearing,” he asks immediately.

"It's called a poncho," I say, with a disdainful eye roll.

"I saw you walk in with the hood on," he says, unable to contain his laughter. "You look like a serial killer skulking around in that thing."

My cheeks flush red. “Well it was that,” I burst out, but he instantly puts his finger to my lips to quiet me.

“It was that,” I try again, in an angry, sharp whisper, “Or get soaked waiting for you outside the dining hall where I told you I would be!”

Kadeem is not shamed in the least. His eyes are still bright. "And you just happened to have that thing on hand? Please tell me you don't carry it around with you."

“Yes,” I hiss. “I keep it in my backpack in case of an emergency!”

I’m watching Kadeem’s face get redder and redder as he’s listening to me. He doubles over in laughter, prompting half a dozen angry shushes.

“Take this ridiculous thing off,” he says, his face is warming into a loving sort of smirk - the way you might grin adoringly at a child wearing a Halloween costume in February.

He holds up the black umbrella in his hand. “I have you covered now."

I refuse to drop my frown. "Next time, can you listen to me when I tell you something simple like where to pick me up?"

"Yes." He kisses me.

I break away from him. "Quit trying to butter me up."

"I'm not trying to do anything but kiss you," he murmurs, locking lips with me again.

Irritated but wanting him, I deepen our kiss and push into his arms, knocking over a haphazard book in the process. The thud of it echoes across the still library.

An overly serious student, easily recognizable by her sweater vest and an armful of books walks past and glares in disapproval.

"Come on," Kadeem says. "Let's go to my place."

We leave the library together. He holds the umbrella over us both as we dodge puddles.

The tower bell chimes, counting down the hours: Bong, bong, bong.

I climb into Kadeem’s car, shivering.

I turn on the radio and put my head back against the seat, listening. We don’t talk, but it's a comfortable silence.

We pass his apartment, and I sit up straight.

“I want to show you something,” he says before I can ask.

I immediately grumble. “My feet are soaked and I’m cold.”

A truck speeds past us, throwing a wave of water against my window.

“I’m a moron,” he says, reaching his arm for his jacket in the backseat to toss in my direction. He hits his blinker. “We’ll turn around then.”

I sigh. I'm drenched and chilled to the bone, but now my curiosity is piqued. “No, we’re already out. It’s okay.” I lean forward to slide into his jacket.

“I don’t want you to get hypothermia or something,” he mutters, then side-eyes me. “Got any wool socks stowed away for emergencies?”

“Ha. Ha.”

Kadeem smirks as he looks over to check for passing cars.

I press him again. “It's really okay. I want to see whatever it is."

“I’m already... turning around,” he says, spinning the wheel to swing the car in the opposite direction.

I let out another exasperated sigh.

“Ardal, will you quit that?"

The rain begins to pelt down in heavy sheets and he clicks the windshield wipers up on high.

“I told you it was okay!" I fold my arms across my chest and reach across the dash to turn on the heater.

“After, you told me it wasn’t,” he says, squinting into the heavy rain. He pushes the air vents away from him and then drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “Is it that I don’t listen - or is it that you just give me constant mixed messages?”

"The first one,” I snap.

“You're a pain in the neck,” he growls as he whips angrily into a parking space in front of his apartment. "I hope you know that."

“Ditto,” I yell, hurling open my door before he's even put the car into park. I snatch up my backpack. The rain is pouring and I’m poncho-less.

“Wait,” Kadeem yells through the downpour as he gets out of the car with the umbrella.

The rain is cold, and I ignore him, taking off running to the door.

I shiver under the porch, soaked, as he walks up with the keys. His shoes and the bottom of his pant legs are wet and even the rest of him is dripping with rain - the umbrella no match for the blowing wind.

He is not, however, anywhere near my level of wet. I’ve got water dripping out of my eyelashes.

“Don’t move,” he says, getting us inside. He throws down the umbrella and kicks off his shoes, walking off in a huff. I stare at the meager contents of his little apartment. All the furnishings are there, but it's a blank canvas of Spartan utilitarianism.

The sole expression of his personality, if you want to call it that, is some exercise equipment in the corner. It's nothing like the little off-campus apartment Julia and I have decorated meticulously, even on our shoestring budget.

She already has her eye on moving out with her new boyfriend, though. I think it's a terrible idea, but Kadeem is happy.

"I won't have to worry about her walking in when I'm feeling you up," he teases.

In my mind's eye, I can see him wearing that cocky grin and I want to smack him.

I stoop to peel off my rain-soaked shoes and he comes back with a towel, wrapping it around my shivering frame. My teeth chatter as he dries me off. His dark hair is falling over his eyes and his dimples are hidden just behind his stubble, like he's gone a couple days without shaving. His hands are strong, but gentle, even though he's angry.

“I love you,” I say.

He blinks, jaw dropping slightly. He goes back to tending to me, wrapping the towel around me like a burrito. "Ditto," he says quietly, his eyes twinkling.

Then he clears his throat and a wry expression comes over his face. "Funny," he says, "I've always guessed that line between adoration and anger with you is pretty close. I was right, huh?"

I watch him as he leans down to pull off his wet socks. "Well, you sure know how to push it, don't you?"

His eyes drift up. "God, I relish it."

"You're a real bastard."

He laughs. "Yes."

I foist myself on him and kiss him, immediately feeling that familiar fire light up inside of me. Like breadcrumbs, we leave a trail of wet clothes to the bedroom.