Page 21 of Anything (Mayberry University #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY

I press against the armrest of my trusty old couch to adjust my propped-up feet. I still feel like I’m getting away with something sitting like this while I work. My fingers are restless on the keyboard as I try to fix the code in front of me.

Sensing my distraction, Austin pounces, spinning around in his office chair to question me. “How’s KitKat? Didn’t you have coffee with her this morning?”

He calls her that to tease me, never to her face, though I’m sure she’d laugh and play along.

“She asked me, you know. It’s progress.”

“The pretty lady makes a move.” He feigns intrigue. “Did she escalate to high fives?”

I shake my head at him, still in good humor.

I get this a lot lately. I may as well have had a No Girls Allowed sign taped to my forehead for my entire time at Mayberry, so it’s no secret to the other Flooders that I’m breaking down my impenetrable walls for her.

The guys haven’t tried anything with Kit, but brotherly ridicule at my apparent failure is enjoyed by all.

They’ve seen girl after girl traipse through the floor to my room, and evidently it’s hilarious that I’ve chosen the one who seems impossible.

Austin pulls on a signature plaid button-up for study group. “Still holding out hope?”

“There’s something about her, man.”

“She’ll come around. She’s just got the hard-to-get thing down to a science. Besides, you’re still beating out the other guys who’ve tried. Two and a half coffee dates is nothing to scoff at with this one.” He slaps me on the back.

Until I set him straight, Austin thought I was mostly interested in Kit because she’s the biggest challenge.

Not a chance—there’s far too much to lose.

Best case, I end up heartbroken or callous.

Worst case, I fall in love with her and sacrifice my entire life’s peace committing to someone who chose me for my money.

I know, that escalated quickly, but I have a whole childhood to explain my terror of that outcome.

It was enough to keep me away from girls for years after seeing Genevieve’s true colors senior year.

But something bizarre is happening. For the first time ever I’m willing to consider someone for real.

Almost … in a forever kind of way. Forever has been a new kind of f-word for me.

I don’t even think it. For so long I’ve seen every girl as a threat, someone who puts me at risk of a marriage like my parents’.

And now, a future together isn’t coming into focus with a girl I’m certain will return my affection, but with one I’m certain will decide based on the real me.

It’s possible I’ve enrolled in a crash course on rejection, the public and humiliating sort.

People at this small school like to gossip—ask me how I know—but I won’t let that deter me.

Kit’s worth it because I’m so confident that I can trust her in every other way.

I know that I know that she’s the only one worth all the risks—the risk of being tricked like my father was, the risk of getting hurt again, the risk of public failure.

I run a hand through my hair. This is a doozy of a crush, if I can even call it that .

“Anything I can do to help her along?” Austin asks.

“Thanks, buddy. I don’t think so. I just need to figure out why she’s holding off.”

He nods. “I asked Sophie. I think she would’ve told me, but she says Kit’s a vault.”

Yep, a vault. “Your wingmanning is fire. If it weren’t for you, I’d be limping along just trying to get her to show up at the same place and time as me.”

“Got you covered, Jeeves.”

As he collects his things, he hits the back of his hand against the palm of the other.

I’ve known him long enough to know that means he’s nervous, probably about to ask a girl out. Still no Sophie. I’m usually better at guessing this kind of thing. I point to the Tic Tacs on my desk.

He grins. “Back atcha, man. Even a good wingman from here.” He dumps a couple Tic Tacs into his palm and pops them in his mouth. “Later. See you at practice.”

“Go route tonight?”

“Yes.” He points at me, quarterback-style.

We’ve been perfecting that route. Football is my favorite intramural sport, and it’s particularly rewarding this year with a certain new observer on the sidelines.

Besides that, though, I want Austin to feel comfortable to pass more often when his knee is bugging him.

He needs someone to look out for him more than most because he’s sacrificial to a fault.

Haymitch whizzes down the hall on his bike, yelling to everyone in his drawl, “Practice at seven! Don’t forget!” Never a dull moment on the floor.

I need to talk to Haymitch and Mateo. Now that I found a spot for our upcoming prank on Club, we should go over strategy and timing for building our pulley contraption in increments. We won’t be able to carry 2x4s into the gym while people are walking around.

My gaze falls from the doorway to the cookie waiting on my desk, covered in chocolate shots and wrapped to perfection by Miss Evelyn.

The right message for the note has eluded me, so it’s still sitting there, begging me to make a fool of myself.

Two gifts a week sent to a girl who won’t go on a single real date …

I’ve never been so much like a stalker. But Sophie assures me Kit adores my little presents, so I continue.

Kit bends toward me eagerly as her deep blue eyes smile into mine—she’s not exactly waving me off.

My computer is sitting ignored on my lap.

I won’t be getting anywhere with this race condition until I have a clear mind, so I go to my desk.

Time to write something and reset my focus.

I tap the lid of my favorite fountain pen on the desk as I consider.

Poetry? Not in my wheelhouse. “From Levi”?

Boring. A compliment? Only if it has nothing to do with how she looks.

Something funny? She likes movie quotes.

If I could only solve the riddle of Kit’s hang-up about me, I could use these notes to answer the underlying question she holds.

Is it my money? Do I seem pretentious since the Matt thing?

Is it the bad experience she mentioned early on?

Sometimes she looks scared for a minute.

Nervous is an honor, but scared I hate. I want her to feel safe with me, valued, protected.

Those eyes betray that she’s attracted to me—such a pleasure—but something else lives there too. The confusing anger is a thing of the past, but lately I see a hesitancy, almost like guilt.

And then I have her rare but harrowing reactions to consider.

It must have been the loud noise that sent her into a panic and jetting out of our study date.

My gut says she endured something terrible.

Kit is private like me, so uncovering the truth may be a lengthy endeavor.

Still, the mystery is a challenge I accept willingly. She’s well worth the effort.

Leo appears in my doorway.

“Hiccup, what’s up, man?”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Hey Jeeves, sorry to ask, but I need a favor. You hang out with Sophie, right?”

I want to laugh but maintain my composure. I would never break Kit’s confidence. “I do.”

“I think she might like me. I mean, that sounds stupid, right? She’s so fun and cool and pretty. But she’s been coming up to me and trying to talk to me and stuff. Dude, I just clam up every time. It’s the worst. And now”—he drops his hands in defeat—“now I’ve completely stopped talking to her.”

I motion for him to sit on my couch. Kit looped me into her shenanigans and said she might want further help, but what if Austin decides he wants a chance with Sophie?

He’s dating everyone but her, won’t even admit to liking her.

Plus, Austin is a legend. He could best this kid with a single smile if he decided to.

I bounce my heel on the floor. I’ll help Kit with this but unwind it if Austin changes his mind.

“I just need to send a quick text,” I say.

I’m all too happy to have a valid reason to text Kit.

I’ve been resisting the urge to text her so this doesn’t become a text-only relationship.

I suspect it would go deep fast and get weird between us in person.

I’m in for the long game and can’t afford that result, even if sometimes I have to wait for days to have a private conversation with her.

Hey, friend. I have a lead on your Hitch situation. Mind if I cover this one?

I lock my phone and set it on the desk. It lights up, and I grab it like the last tray-passed salmon puff. Woah there. I’m a bit overeager.

That’s amazing, Levi, thank you. I trust you.

She trusts me. My desire to help is amazing. She uses commas in her texts.

I reluctantly release the phone and face Leo. “The right girl can make a guy act like an idiot.”

“Yeah, exactly,” he says with emphasis.

“I know the feeling, man. How can I help? ”

He lets out an incredulous laugh. I appreciate his well-timed confidence boost. Kit’s had the opposite effect on me.

“I dunno. You’re Jeeves. I figured you’d know what to do.”

“Are you looking for help being less nervous or winning her back now that you pushed her away?”

“Is that on the table?” Leo bends forward in anticipation. “Both. Dude, both.”

I keep my face straight to maintain his dignity.

I don’t think anyone’s ever come out and asked my strategy on these matters.

I respect his initiative. “Alright. Being comfortable around girls is just a combination of practice and self-confidence. Practice talking—not flirting, talking and listening—to girls who aren’t as intimidating, and then work up to the Sophies.

And hit the gym every day, but don’t let it go to your head.

” I wonder whether he knows his way around a weight room, but I won’t ask.

“They’ll be fighting over you in no time. ”

Perhaps I’m over-selling it. Kit still makes me nervous after weeks.

I find myself speaking like my father when she gets me particularly out of sorts.

It never ceases to horrify me. And this morning I completely misread her nonverbals.

She makes me feel like I’m sitting in the NFL’s green room, waiting to get drafted.

Leo isn’t the only one wanting to win over a girl out of his league.

Lucky for this kid, Kit seems to think he has a fighting chance with Sophie, and she would know better than anyone.

I certainly wouldn’t have guessed as much.

Why she’d want to match her friend up with anybody over Austin, I can’t imagine, but I don’t profess to understand Kit’s decision-making. With time.

“Practice talking to other girls, work out more, and don’t get cocky. I can do that. I don’t need the fighting. I just want to get Sophie back to talking to me.”

I understand completely. “As for winning her back, ease into it. Girls can be emotional about things, one extreme or the other. She might think you hate her or you’re too good for her?—”

He makes a disgusted face, and I choke down a laugh.

“—Or you have some other girl in mind. Start by looking over at her and smiling a little. After a couple days of that, maybe a wave or a passing comment.”

He’s watches me, enraptured.

“Take a breath and enjoy the chase. Hopefully she’ll come around. But whatever you do, don’t try to act like someone else. Just be the smoothest version of yourself.”

Leo stands, and I follow suit. He shakes my hand hard, like he’s leaving an important business meeting.

“No promises,” I say. “Girls are unpredictable. But I have high hopes on this one.”

“Thanks, man. God bless you. I owe you big.”

I laugh. “He does every day. And no, you really don’t.”

He walks out showing far too much confidence in me.

I scroll through my quickly sent messages. I particularly enjoy my ironic nickname for Kit. I’ll be her friend as long as she needs, though I’m growing impatient for her to come around. If my instincts are right, she’s The?—

No. Way too soon. If I’m not careful, I could be coming to Leo asking how to get myself out of a jam. The right girl really can make a guy act like an idiot.

I send one more message.

Let me know if you see some improvement in the situation.

Another reason to talk to Kit is priceless.

I pull my journal out of the drawer and open to the last page of writing. My letters loop slowly. What am I trying to ask exactly?

She’s here, on my sister floor no less, after those prayers last year. Could it mean what I think it means?

Nothing yet. I move a card and envelope out of the drawer.

Back to my journal .

As I suspected, she loves you with her whole heart. But I wouldn’t want to use you to get a girl. Can I tell her?

With a confirmation of sorts, I write on the card and then tap my phone. No answer to my text. Time to deliver this cookie before getting dressed for practice. I can’t look at it a minute more or I’m going to wreck my own self-confidence.

Another week, another beautiful present on my desk. Can I really accept another of these with nothing to offer in return? I open the card with care, and the message stops me in my tracks.

Friend,

Your faith is beautiful.

—Levi

God? Did I meet the best possible guy at the worst possible time? You wouldn’t do that, would you?