Infatuation

➳ 6

Clover

        Working with Alex was a drag, he just couldn't understand that the term buddy didn't mean that you were supposed to stick your nose into someone's business all the time.

        I felt slightly more aggravated as time went by. The others noticed my bad mood too—they stayed far away, which was fine with me. Only Alex didn't seem to get the message.

        “Dude, can't you leave me alone for just one minute?” I groaned while fishing a pool noodle out of the water.

        “But I'm your buddy, I'm supposed to keep an eye on you,” he expressed sourly.

        “Which doesn't mean that you should hold my hand all the time!”

        “You wish for me to hold your hand, don't you.” He winked, looking way too smug.

        I just shook my head. No sense in arguing with the biggest idiot on the planet.

        “Hemmings, Browne, what the fuck are you guys doing?”

        I whipped my head around and found our old grumpy instructor standing near the equipment room. He gave us an ugly scowl, which made his whole face contort in a painful looking expression.

        “Stop flirting and get working. I don't pay you for fucking around!” he barked rudely.

        I sighed and turned on my heels. Unbelievable that I got to supervise the one place I didn't want: The kids area. They were too loud, too obnoxious, and too young—everything I wholeheartedly hated. I always told myself and others that I wasn't supposed to have kids, having a boyfriend was already too much work.

        Alex had gotten himself in even more trouble in the meantime. He'd messed up the chlorine levels of the different pools, evidenced by the illegible scrawls that graced his clipboard.

        “Seriously, can't you do anything right?”

        He looked insulted but didn't say anything. Furrowing his eyebrows, he peered closely at the paper.

        “Will you shut up? I'm working really hard to try to figure this out.” As if to prove me wrong, he bit on the end of his tongue and scratched his neck, maintaining a serious look.

        I smiled despite all his ridiculousness. Alex Browne aka Coffee Boy might've been weird, but he was cute as well. You just couldn't help but feel for him whenever he tried something.

         “Hey, I don't want to fight with you the whole time, it's tiring.”

        He stared at me. Maybe he was contemplating how to nicely tell me to “fuck off” or something . . . But nothing like that. Instead, he smiled a genuine smile and stuck his hand out for me to shake.

        So I said, “Are you sure you want to make peace with a law student? Everything you do and say now can be used against you in court—”

        He cut me off by saying, “You're a law student too?”

        Shit, he didn't know that we actually shared some classes?

        “I suppose so.” I was too flabbergasted to say anything sensible.

        "Which college are you going to?" he asked.

        I scrunched up my nose. If I told him I was going to Stanford, he would perhaps know that I was in one of his classes. Did I want him to know?