Chapter 4: The Lila and West Show
389 Words
The mutual crush wasn’t mutual. It was public domain.
By October, my floor had a betting pool:
“When Will RA Chen Break and Kiss the Rooftop Menace?” The library barista started writing For Lila’s TA on West’s coffee. Even my dad asked why “that Holloway boy” kept emailing him about econ tutoring.
“I don’t tutor econ,” I told West after catching him walking me back from my 9 PM bio lab. Again.
“You tutor me in not being an i***t,” he said, handing me a granola bar because I forgot dinner. Again. “Same thing.”
Chasing after her was new for him. West Holloway got chased. Girls left sticky notes on his car. Guys bought him shots to get close to his frat brothers. But I’d turned him down for a “study date” three times to finish my midterms, so he showed up outside the library at 1 AM with pizza and flashcards.
Handmade. Color-coded. For my major. Cellular respiration, not supply and demand.
“You’re gonna fail econ,” I told him, flipping through the cards.
“You’re gonna fall for me,” he said, stealing a slice.
We were both right. He got a C-minus. I started looking for him in every crowded quad.
“Why me?” I finally asked. We were on the roof of my dorm — yes, I’d climbed the fire escape. My rules were in shambles and my mom’s ethics lectures were screaming. “You could have anyone, West.”
He was quiet for once. Legs dangling over the edge, looking at the campus lights instead of me. “Because you looked at me that first day and didn’t see a challenge. Or a screw-up. You just saw a noise violation.” He turned. “You saw me. Not the rumors.”
My heart did something stupid.
Something that wasn’t in the syllabus.
“You’re still a noise violation,” I said.
“Yeah,” he grinned. “But now I’m your noise violation.”
That night I broke Rule 4. And Rule 1. And probably a few housing codes.
He didn’t kiss me. Not yet.
But when he walked me to my door, he brushed his thumb across my knuckles.
“See you tomorrow, Miss RA.”
I didn’t sleep.
- Writer
