Even if I couldn't, I knew I still wanted to be with the big idiot. Even if he ended up dropping college altogether and working full-time at Burger King for the rest of his life, I would still be there by his side, as long as he didn't have a problem with me bringing home at least three times as much money as he did.
For as long as we were together, of course.
But I was willing to take on him and a baby, so obviously I wasn't looking for short-term.
Thinking about that made me all antsy, so I stopped thinking about my future, Derek's future, or the possibility of them being tied together, and instead spent the time looking over his notes for his English paper.
I tried to stay awake, I truly did. I even made a couple trips out to the kitchen to drink one of Alex's energy drinks, but I couldn't finish it because it was nasty. I gave it to Alex and headed back to my room, asking him to let me know if Derek got there and I didn't hear him. Alex raised an eyebrow and asked, "Why, all of a sudden, are we inviting the antichrist into the house?"
I flashed him a smile, informing him, "Oh, we like Derek again."
"Why?" he called after me, but I shut my door, not answering.
The last thing I remember was curling up in bed with Sense and Sensibility, planning on reading a few chapters while I waited for Derek, and the next thing I knew I was waking up to a pair of arms wrapped around me, and someone kissing my ear.
I smiled sleepily, rolling over. "Hey you," I greeted.
He returned a small smile. "You fell asleep on me."
"I'm sorry," I said, yawning.
"It's okay," he said. "Alex let me in."
"I meant to wait up. I tried to wait up, but apparently I woke up too early this morning."
He glanced down at the books lying open on my bed. "Or Jane Austen just wasn't interesting enough," he suggested.
"Bite your tongue, mister."
"I'd rather bite yours," he murmured, leaning in to kiss me.
"Freak," I said against his mouth, smiling.
"You like it," he retorted, pulling himself above me and letting his hand wander down to my pajama bottoms.
"I do. But we don't have time for that right now," I said, pushing him away and sitting up, remembering to take charge.
He groaned. "You're going into teacher mode, aren't you?"
"I have to start by saying that I do not approve of you putting school on the backburner, and I definitely do not approve of cheating, copying or any other form of plagiarism. That being said, we have to go to school in, like, seven hours, and you still haven't slept. You did finish your chemistry homework, although I have no idea when, but you still had English, math and government to do. Your English paper is due tomorrow, and we've known about it for a week, but all you had were a few notes. I took the liberty of going over your notes, trying to go off of them, and although I may have ended up straying a bit, I finished your paper; it's in your folder, double spaced and everything. I also did your government homework, but you need to write it in your own handwriting, that way the teacher doesn't know and that way you're at least taking something away from the assignment. I'm a firm believer that when you cheat, you're only cheating yourself, but I also don't want you to flunk out, so..."
He smiled at me. "You did my homework?"
"Half of it," I said. "You did chemistry and the math homework is all yours, because I hate math and I had to do the even numbers, but you have to do the odd numbers."
He chuckled. "You don't love me that much, huh?"
Even though he said it in an off-hand sort of way, I sort of felt like I had swallowed an ice cube.
He must have realized what he said, because he glanced up at me and said, "Don't panic, I didn't mean it literally."
Deciding not to deal with that particular awkward moment, I bent over my bed and picked up the folder with his English paper. "Now
, you took a completely different view than I took, and I didn't want the papers to be similar, because I don't want the teacher to think anything seems fishy."
"What genre did you defend?" he asked conversationally, taking his paper.
"Chick-lit," I responded.