I burst out laughing. “You’re too much, Zac.”
“You can’t tell me that you didn’t have a crush on at least one cartoon character.”
“Stop trying to act like it’s normal to crush on a cartoon!”
“Come on. Everyone does. Let me guess. Aladdin.” He lifts his chin. “Go ahead. I won’t make fun of you.”
“I… Fine. Yes. Aladdin.”
“So you don’t mind being with a guy who has a terrible habit of lying, huh?”
“Look, crushes aren’t always rational, and I will say this about the movie. It says something that Aladdin’s first wish was to become a prince rather than something to change the hierarchy of his kingdom.”
“He was basically a peasant. Did you really think he was going to change everything about his lifestyle and everyone else’s?”
“Maybe I am putting too much stock into the guy.”
“A guy with no nipples.”
I gape at Zac. “He didn’t… He didn’t! I never even thought about that before.”
Zac bursts out laughing, which makes me laugh, which makes the nearby students all glare at us.
“Come on,” Zac says. “I never do my studying here. I got a spot.”
That sounds good to me. It doesn’t take me long to gather everything. While he waits in time to check out his stack of books, I look around a bit myself, and I end up finding a mystery that looks amazing. No one seems to mind that I join Zac in line, and I check out my book after his.
“See? You don’t have to be a brunette to be like Belle.”
I eye him. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him if that means I’m his type, but I don’t dare. That’s flirting, and I’m better than that.
“So, where is this special spot of yours? Don’t tell me it’s where you take all the girls to make out.”
Damn it. That could be construed as flirting, can’t it? I really need to learn to keep my mouth shut.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Zac asks.
We walk a bit behind the library. Back here, there is much more than an empty field. No buildings out this way.
“Is this still campus land?” I ask.
“I think so, which means they’ll probably expand out here, but for now…”
He keeps walking, and just past a hill is a tree with a large hole. Zac reaches inside and removes a blanket that he lays out on the ground.
“You picnic when you get work done?” I ask, incredulous.
“Sometimes. I like to be outside.”
“A regular boy scout, huh?”
“Not exactly.”
We settle onto the blanket, and we talk a little more. Zac is being so sweet and helpful and kind, and he’s making me feel like I can do this, like I can be friends with the guys and nothing more.
And then his phone vibrates.
“Rob,” he says, and as he reads the text, Zac’s expression turns darker. “We should get work done,” Zac says, his tone curt and not at all like what it had been just a moment ago.