The Junior (College Years 3)

“Are you trying to get my attention?” he asks.

I glare at him. “Not like you care.”

“I shouldn’t,” he says.

“Right. Too busy texting…whoever.” I wave a hand toward the phone he’s currently clutching, gazing at myself in the mirror.

The dress is just okay. Way better than the last one.

“I’m texting my mom,” he says.

Surprised, I focus all of my attention on him. “Really, Caleb?”

“Yes, really, Gracie.” He thrusts his phone toward me and I squint as I take in the screen, noting the name Mom at the top of it. “I was telling her I took you to her favorite store and we’re finding you stuff to wear for your new job.”

“Uh huh.” He probably has every hookup he’s ever had under the name “Mom” in his phone. That way he doesn’t look like a complete douche when his phone is blowing up with calls from his various l

ist of females.

“Read it.” He waves the phone at me and I can’t help myself. I snatch it out of his hand and read the texts, slowly realizing that he’s actually telling the truth.

He’s also telling his mom about me, and how we’re shopping together at the mall.

Mom: You actually agreed to go to the mall with this young lady? You must really like her.

Caleb: We’re just friends.

Mom: You’re friends with no girl.

Caleb: I am with this one.

Mom: You must really like her then. You usually don’t even bother being friends with a woman, though I think you should.

Caleb: I’m not friend material when it comes to women. They all want me too much.

Mom: Caleb Richard Burke, you should never talk to your mother like that. I mean it. That’s the last thing I want to hear.

Caleb: Sorry, Ma.

Aww, his mom seems sweet. Look at her chastising her son, and he wasn’t even that bad.

Wait a minute.

“Your middle name is Richard?” I ask him, lifting my head so I can stare into his stupidly beautiful blue eyes.

He nods. “No dick jokes, please. I’ve heard them my entire life.”

“I’m surprised you don’t go by the name Dick. It goes with your theme.”

“What theme?”

“How you continuously think with your dick and nothing else,” I answer sweetly.

He glares at me. “I should tell my mom you said that. She’d get mad at you.”

“Maybe she’d get mad at you, because if you ask me, it sounds like mama knows what kind of guy you are.”

He rolls his eyes, completely unfazed. “At least you believe I’m talking to my mom, right?”