I'm headed down the steps outside of my apartment when I hear someone call my name from across the courtyard.
It's Owen, and he's perched on a railing, where Micheal, another football player and mutual friend of ours, is standing next to him.
"Herro there!" I call back.
"Hey Micheal, this is Junior Jr., my English tutor, you should get to know her. She's awesome."
Micheal shoots him a look. "DUDE. Seriously? I've known her longer than any of the dudes on the team! I was WITH her the day YOU met her."
I'm Owens unofficial English tutor. This basically consists of us getting together: me tutoring him a few hours at a time, while he continuously supplies me with Sugar Free Redbull, and Sour Patch Kids. It's a pretty good system.
"Oh yeah, right right right.... I totally knew that..." Owen turns to me "Hey, did you get my Facebook?"
"I saw that you liked my status last night."
"No, I mean after that. I left a message...a wall post...a comment... I don't know what it was that I left but I left something..." He ponders this.
"Oh, I guess I haven't seen it yet."
"Well then", he focuses in, becoming very dignified, "I'll just tell you what is said - and this is important, are you looking? You gotta look- it said 'Hey Jr....'"He pauses dramatically.
"Okay..."
"Okay, then it says 'I hope.... you get to feeling... much better...'" Another dramatic pause, letting his words dwindle.
I lean forward.
"Then... it says 'We need... to get working... on my paper..." He sees that I anticipate more. "That's it. That's all it says." He leans back.
"Oh... okay...Well thanks Owen!"
"So this weekend I say we put together a game plan!" He grins.
"You gonna do his paper for him?" Micheal asks. Owen slugs him in the arm.
"DUDE, she's my tutor! TUTOR! She does it with me, not FOR me! WITH me, WITH! When I say "we", I mean US, not HER!" He rolls his eyes, turning back towards me.
He becomes very dignified once again, "So, darling, dear Junior. When would be the best time for you? You and your poor, sick state?"
"Hmmm..." It's my turn to ponder. "As long as it's before 1am, then it works for me." The wee morning hours have recently been the times when my bedroom window becomes the conversation-station on campus.
"Hmmm..." he strokes his chin. "We have practice this evening and Saturday..."
"What about Sunday?" Micheal pipes in.
"Yeah! Sunday!" Owen agrees.
"On Sunday, you two can get together..."
"YES! We'll get together!"
"Say around noon..."
"YES! We shall get together at NOON!"
"He'll buy your lunch..."
"I will buy you-- wait, I'm going to buy her lunch?"
"Yep."
"I am BUYING your LUNCH!" He claps with glee.
"And you're going to Junior's apartment, where you will work, work, work until you're finished." Micheal smiles cleverly at his own idea.
"WE CAN DO THIS!!!!" Owen jumps up and down.
"Well good then!" I laugh, "Sounds like we have a deal!" We all three start walking along the railing, meeting up with them on the other side.
"You're the best! Seriously, you are the BOMB!" Owen wraps me in a giant squeeze. "And you smell good, too!"
"Thanks Owen!" I grin. "Well, I'm off to class, so I'll be seeing you later. But if you need anything, just holler. BYE MICHEAL!" Micheal waves from a few yards ahead of us. He looks at Owen:
"DUDE! Are you coming or what!? I'm trying to make it to breakfast! And if you make me late again I swear I'm gonna--" the rest of their squabbling is drowned out as I walk away.
Despite my stuffy nose, I know it's going to be a great day.
Because the sun is shining.
Because I'm loaded up on NyQuill.
Because I know I've earned some RedBulls this weekend.
Because that's just How It Is.
The Official Creeper Board:
We've decided that everyone who creeps through my window has to sign in.
(All of these signatures are from one evening.)
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