Page 17 of Anything (Mayberry University #1)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Mia could help too, but pick me!” I say to Ayumi, standing up after Thursday’s game. “Calc One was my favorite class ever.” I twist out the stiffness in my back from sitting on the sideline.

“Yes, pick Kit,” Mia says. “I wouldn’t exactly have heart eyes talking about limits and derivatives.”

I gather the blanket we shared—muddy from recent rain—and wad it into a clump.

My arms freeze when I spot Levi sauntering toward us.

No big deal. Just a bold, insightful, thrilling guy who I can’t actually date.

Mia kicks my butt from behind. “Speaking of heart eyes.”

Ayumi takes the blanket wad from my arms.

“To MSC. I want chicken,” Sophie says. “Bye, Kit!” she sing-songs.

Margot Robbie alerted us to some impressive Barbies out there.

Physicist Barbie, Diplomat Barbie, Supreme Court Justice Barbie.

Ryan Gosling might have been “just Ken,” but Levi has collectible looks too.

This one is Dreamy Athlete Levi. Brimming achievement and flushed cheeks.

And slightly sweaty hair that gives a magnificent texture to his waves, better than any mousse could manage.

Not touching said hair is a battle between the logic of my frontal lobe and the instincts from my limbic system.

Yes, I’m a nerd. Back to Levi—his biceps, which I’ve been watching catch and intercept for an hour, gloriously peek out of his shirt and tempt me to gape at them.

This Levi always comes accessorized with an orange Flooders shirt, running shorts, and a black water bottle.

Who started the tradition of the sister floor coming to every game?

Come along, they say, and watch the guys we know act like Olympians and flash their proud smiles and slap each other’s butts.

They’re all just our casual friends, and nothing is strange about staring at them like this for an hour every single week! I haven’t missed a game.

Levi arrives in front of me. “Hey, friend. Can I walk you back?”

I am the epitome of cool with my “Okay, sure.”

He likes to call me “friend.” If only we could be more Chandler and Monica and less Joey and Phoebe.

We set off, navigating through the pine trees that fill the space between the engineering building and the gym, rather than straight north across campus like the rest of the group.

The yelling and chanting at the pond behind us makes for a distinctively Mayberry soundtrack.

A dude floor is inciting some kind of mayhem.

Levi probably knows who’s getting tossed in, but his intense focus beams toward me.

Open, shut goes the lid of his water bottle. “Thanks for coming to our game.”

“It was fun. Your crazy catch at the end was amazing.” Well it was, okay?

Levi beams .

“So, you managed to make a friend of Matt? He told me you stuck around after apologizing and played Madden on his floor.”

A hint of his gentle, humble smile.

Only he could turn a mistake into a win. He’s impossible.

“He’s a cool guy,” he says. “Good taste.”

My smile slants.

“So, I’m not trying to overstep boundaries, but … You were ready to go out with Matt, but you shoot me down every time. Mind if I ask why?”

The way his face softens—unguarded, vulnerable—makes my heart skip.

I want to honor that openness. What kind of explanation would he understand?

My feet grind to a halt. “I told Matt no because … Levi, you … you’re …

” I’m out of words. He said I’m expressive.

Maybe if I look at him openly he’ll be able to magically read my mind?

I silently talk to him in my head, as if he’s Edward Cullen.

Listen, I’m stuck. You’ve seen me do weird things, but I can’t explain them.

And I won’t do anything that risks those weird things happening again.

I’m sorry I’m so dysfunctional. But you’re so dreamy and sweet and smart that you’re ruining rom-coms for me.

Even Lara Jean and Peter are no fun to watch anymore.

What am I doing? I’m officially off my rocker.

Levi’s gaze is deep and exposing. The connection drags me under—and closer. Doesn’t eye contact release chemicals of some kind in the brain? I break away to clear my head.

“Take the time you need,” he says.

Well, that didn’t work. My feet carry me along again, north toward the bell tower. “So, uh, how are your classes going?”

“Not giving me too much trouble.”

I raise teasing brows. “You’re in upper-level software engineering classes. They’re not giving you ‘too much trouble?’”

He edges an elbow toward me, short of an actual nudge. “And how are your junior-level math classes going, my favorite freshman? ”

I bite back a smile. “How’d you pick your major?” Maybe he’ll spill a rare personal detail.

“Oh, I—” His eyes turn playful. “I’d better get to the point. You’re going to hold out for the real answer, aren’t you?”

My grin breaks through.

“It’s petty, but I veered far from pre-law, econ, or business like my parents would want.

” He steps up onto a bench by the bell tower.

“All I knew is that I wanted a challenge.” He hops down and up another bench, Sound of Music -style.

“I’m enjoying this though. I particularly like my software architecture class this semester.

I think that might be the specialty I work on for my practicum next year. ”

Jackpot. Personal details.

“Do you have a project you’re working on right now?” I ask.

He moves the water bottle to his left hand and holds out his right to help me down off the final bench.

Just chivalrous habit, I assume, because he drops it immediately and watches me jump down.

Aiming toward Griffin Hall, he describes his work building a distributed system.

I’m Winnie the Pooh staring at a pot of honey.

He treats me like I’m brilliant, assuming I know more than I do and that I can follow complex thoughts with ease.

Everyone says that class is brutally difficult, and he’s over here talking about fault tolerance like it’s pre-algebra.

Crazy Smart Levi and Dreamy Athlete Levi just combined in a moment of?—

Oops.

He raises his brow over an amused smile, like he’s reading my face. Stop calling me out like that, Levi. I shake my head to clear it before he can read any more of my thoughts.

“Cool,” I say, like I’m fresh out of brain cells. Gotta redeem myself. “How exciting that you might have found what you’re going to do for a living. It’s overwhelming that I have to have that figured out in a year or two.”

“It can be scary to trust that God will get us to the right spot. I haven’t figured out when to stop and listen more and when to try something, trusting he’ll guide me. ”

All the wonderful Levis are converging into one conversation. I can barely maintain composure.

“Maybe it’s one and then the other?” I say, my voice quieter than I intend. “The stopping and listening comes naturally to me, but the go-and-try part … it’s a lot. I don’t want to disappoint God. I love him so much.”

His tender look steals the last bit of air from my lungs. Without a word, he turns away from my approaching building, quietly extending our walk.