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two fucktons of Cheez-Its.
I’m literally eating cheez-its right now
“You made it,” he says, like I really did just get off a jet plane. “You’re here.” He’s smiling. I smile, too, and furrow my brow. “What? You didn’t think I’d actually graduate?” “Wasn’t sure you’d ever pass your Water Resources class.” I burst out laughing. “What? Just because you saw me, with your own eyes, put zero effort into my assignment?”
“You should read the stuff I BS’d about you in that report.” “Ah, yes. What STDs did I have to battle to get to where I am today?” “What STDs did you not?”
The last thing I do before falling asleep is lean my head against Ian’s shoulder. The last thing I remember him doing is shifting a little lower, to make sure that I’m as comfortable as I can be.
“Is that why you came to rescue me?” I tease. “Because you were thinking about it? Because you have been secretly pining for years?” He meets my eyes squarely. “I don’t know that there was anything secret about that.”
“It’s on, baby. Let the best bitch win.”
“Do you have condoms?” “No. But I’m on the pill. We can do it without anything if you’re not giving me gross STDs. But I trust that you wouldn’t save me from the walruses just to have me die of chlamydia, so—”
The following day, our kiss is on the front page of the New York Times.
Aww that's cute
