The Ivy League

The Ivy League Part 28

After I hung up, I did a little happy dance around my room. I honestly can’t wait. Then, I decided to call a certain someone to confirm a previous engagement. I dialed the familiar number and waited for the call to connect.

“Hello?” a masculine voice asked me, and my heart sped up. Wow, he is so hot.

“Nate?” I said. “It’s Courtney.”

The voice on the other end chuckled. “I’m flattered, Courtney, really, but somehow I think you’d want the actual Nate to listen to this.”

I heard Mr. Anderson call his son in the background. That was so embarrassing. I’m going to pretend right now that I didn’t call Mr. Anderson ‘hot’ in my mind just now.

As I drown in my private pool of humiliation, the phone is picked up on another line. “I got it, Dad,” the real Nate’s voice announced, and I heard a scuffling in the background.

“You sure?” Mr. Anderson’s amused voice asked, as Nate let out a yell, followed immediately by a thud. What in the name of the heavens above is that boy doing?

“Yeah…got it…” Nate panted.

“All right… don’t hurt yourself with the phone, son,” Mr. Anderson admonished before hanging up and it was just me, Nate, and whoever was giving him hell in the background.

“Who is it?” I heard another guy’s voice ask, and there was a sound like a punch.

“I don’t know! Leave me alone, Mark.”

I grinned. “Hello?”

“Yeah, sorry, hi,” Nate said in an irritated voice, and I could just imagine him turning away from Mark and lean over the phone. “Sorry, who is this?”

I sighed and rolled my eyes at the ceiling, plopping down on my bed in the process. “Guess.”

“Hmm…” Nate drawled. “Kyle? Is that you?”

I scowled. “Yeah, cuz’ I sound like I’m suffering from a variety of STDs and my voice is all nasal.”

I imagined Nate smirking. “Oh, right, sorry Ellen! You want to get back together, baby?”

“Three strikes and you’re out, idiot,” I warned him in a dangerous voice.

“Hi, Courtney,” Nate hastily amended and I smiled sweetly.

“There, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

On Nate’s end, I heard Mark’s gleeful voice. “Is that Courtney? I love that girl! She is so flippin’ evil. HI COURTENY!” he bellowed to make sure I heard him.

“HI MARK!” I screamed back, and Nate yelped.

“Ow! Jeez, warn me next time you want to blow out my eardrum!”

In response, I blew a raspberry into his ear.

“Nice. Thanks.”

“Can I talk to her? C’mon, lemme just say something—”

“MARCUS FERRELL! I SWEAR TO GOD I’M GOING TO FLUSH YOUR HEAD DOWN THE TOILET!”

“All right, all right, chill man!” Mark’s peeved voice complained, “I just wanted to tell her that, COURTNEY BE CAREFUL ON THE DATE TOMORROW! HE HAS A CHAINSAW IN THE BACKSEAT! HE’S A MANIAC!”

“That’s it!” Nate roared, and for the next two minutes, I was treated to an epic audio battle. It seemed like Nate got the upper hand, but maybe that was because Mark was laughing so hard.