Daddies Brat

Leslie

Riley and I hugged to celebrate my A. I laughed at the night sky, suddenly carefree and relieved. It was like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. The first test was just a fluke.This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

Avery was home when we returned. When I told him the news, he laughed and wrapped me in a big hug, holding me tight while spinning me around. Riley eyed us, but quickly looked away when I turned toward him, trying to pretend like he wasn’t jealous.

If he looks that way just from a hug, how will he react to learn Avery and I have been sleeping together? I wondered.

“Where’s Harper?” I asked.

“Still with his study group,” Avery replied.

I wanted to wait to tell him in person, but after a few minutes I decided I couldn’t wait.

Me: GUESS WHAT!

Harper: Um. What?

Me: Guess.

Harper: You just discovered that Sigmund Freud was a crackpot.

Me: Nope! Although you’re probably right. Most of his theories have been debunked by modern psychologists.

Harper: You got a 100 on your astronomy test?

Me: Close! I got a 95!

Harper: Aw, shoot. I’m really sorry. We’ll study harder next time

Me: Oh shut up, I’m ecstatic! I didn’t think I would get higher than a B.

Harper: I know, I’m just teasing you. Good job 🙂

Me: I couldn’t have done it without you. Let me repay you with dinner tomorrow night.

Harper: You don’t have to do that. You can repay me with a batch of brownies since you ate most of the ones I made last week

😉

Me: I was going to do that, too! But I insist. It will be nice to get something other than dining hall food. You don’t have plans tomorrow, right?

Harper: Fine, I accept. But we don’t need to go somewhere fancy.

Me: Let me worry about that 🙂

I went to my classes the next day feeling confident again. I was a senior at this college, and I did know what I was doing. My impostor syndrome faded away until it was a dim voice in the back of my head, easily ignorable.

Riley and I went to the batting cage again. It might have been my imagination, but he seemed to be flinching less after ten minutes of getting pummeled by baseballs.

That evening when we got home, Riley packed his stuff for a three-day baseball road trip. After covertly giving him a goodbye kiss, I began gathering supplies in the kitchen to make another batch of brownies. But I realized I was missing one of the ingredients.

“Hey,” I said, popping my head into Avery’s room. “I thought we had some eggs left.”

He winced. “Yeah, about that… I used the last two eggs to make brownies.”

“Damn,” I said. “I was going to make brownies for Harper to thank him for helping me study.”

“Don’t give him any of my brownies,” Avery said with a chuckle. “They’re special brownies, if you know what I mean.”

“I think I do.”

“The brownies have weed in them,” he said with too much seriousness.

“I figured that out, yes.” I glanced at my watch. I didn’t have enough time to go buy more eggs. I would have to do it after dinner. “Oh well. I’ll stop by the convenience store on the way home, so let me know if you need anything.”

“Help yourself to mine, if you want,” Avery said as I left his bedroom. “I would recommend about half a brownie. Any more than that would be too much for you.”

I grinned. “I might take you up on that.”

I put away all the ingredients I had gathered in the kitchen. Then I found the glass pan in the fridge that held Avery’s special brownies. They looked just like any other batch, except there was a post-it note on the lid that said, “Extra special brownies.” I only wanted to relax, so I ate a little less than half a brownie. I left the container out, intending to take another small bite before I went to dinner.

Getting ready for a nice evening out was a hassle for women. I was no exception, although I had always prided myself on being able to go from looking homeless to gorgeous in under an hour. I chose a floor-length maxi dress that I would wear with a jean jacket, since the nights were getting chillier. When I was satisfied with myself, I called Erin.

“Girlfriend gut-check,” I said. “How does this look for a night out?” “A night out?” she asked, frowning on the screen.

“My roommate helped me study for my astronomy test. I’m buying him dinner as a thank-you.”

“Which roommate? The tall viking god, or the cute stoner boy?”

I hesitated. “It’s my third roommate. Harper.”

Erin’s eyes widened. “The adorable nerdy redhead? Are you trying to fuck him, too?”

“No! It’s just a thank-you dinner. He eats most of his meals at the dining hall.”

“Where are you taking him?”

“Nowhere fancy,” I replied. “That steakhouse on ninth.”

“That’s not super fancy, but it’s fancier than any college guy is used to,” she replied. “You like him.”

“I’m really happy with our friendship,” I argued. “That’s it. After all the studying he did with me last week, I don’t want to buy him, like, Subway.”

“So it’s not a date.”

“Nope.”

Erin smiled evilly on the screen. “Then why, dearest Leslie, are you wearing your hot girl heels?”

I glanced down at my feet. I put them on without thinking. They went with my dress, and I wanted the extra inch or two from the heels to put me closer to Harper’s height.

“You like him!” she insisted.

“Oh shut up.”

“You’re already sleeping with two smoking hot guys who live with you,” she said accusatorily. “And you want to get involved with the third?”

“Quiet!” I hissed. “I had you on speakerphone.”

“Oh, sorry. This is clearly all my fault.”

“I didn’t think you of all people would judge me for this!” I whispered. “You were super excited when you learned I was boning Avery and Riley.”

“I’m not judging you, sweetie,” Erin replied. “I just want to make sure you’re being deliberate with your actions. If you like Harper, then by all means, go have fun. But if not… you might be sending the wrong message.”

I hadn’t thought about that. What kind of message did I want to send to him?

When I was finished getting ready, I went downstairs. Harper was standing next to the kitchen counter with his back turned to me. As he turned around, I blinked in surprise. He was wearing grey dress pants and black leather shoes, with a matching belt. His T-shirt was simple, but he wore a blazer over it, giving him a casual, yet sophisticated, look.

I whistled. “You clean up nicely.”

“I try.” His eyes scanned me. “You look quite nice yourself. I like those shoes.”

“Thanks,” I said, moving past him to the pan of brownies. I was barely feeling anything from my first dose, so I bit off another half of a brownie and put the pan back in the fridge. “Ready?”

Even though I was the one buying him dinner, Harper insisted on driving to the restaurant. I was fine with that; even though I wasn’t feeling much yet, it probably wasn’t a good idea for me to drive while high.

The restaurant was one of the nicest steakhouses in town, with dim lighting and white tablecloths. A man played the piano in the corner, an airy tune that made me feel out of place. I was glad I had decided to dress up; jeans would have been out of place here. The hostess led us to a two-person table in the middle of the huge room. A candle flickered in the center of the table.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go somewhere cheaper?” Harper asked while perusing the menu. “I don’t need a fifty dollar meal.”

“I saved up every penny working at an ice cream shop this summer,” I replied with a smile. “I’ve been very frugal up to this point. We can splurge for one evening.”

The restaurant had a sommelier, who visited our table and recommended a deep-bodied merlot if we were ordering steak. The bottle was just shy of a hundred dollars, but I ordered it without a second thought. I had done a good job budgeting my money to this point.

“And water, please,” Harper said. He turned to me and explained, “My mouth is really dry.”

“Mine too,” I said, although mine was likely due to the half of a brownie I had eaten. The weed was kicking in just a little bit. But I didn’t want Harper to know I had done that to relax before our date.

Not a date, I thought, glancing down at my hot girl heels. Just two roommates hanging out.

“So,” Harper said. “Why did you put off your astronomy class until senior year? Most students knock those out in the first semester.”

“I assumed, wrongfully, that it would be a breeze,” I replied with a smirk. “I thought I would be grateful for the easy class compared to all the upperlevel psychology classes on my schedule. Thanks a lot, past-Leslie.”

“It is easy, if you have the right tutor,” Harper said, smiling behind his glasses. He really was handsome when he stopped scowling. “Okay, here’s a question for you. Top five people you would want to have a beer with.”

“Oh!” I said. “We haven’t done one of these in a while.”

“Riley hasn’t been himself,” Harper said with a grimace. “Although he looked more confident when he left for that away game today.”

I might have helped with that. “Top five people to have a beer with. Like, living people? Or historical?”

“Either,” Harper replied. “I’ll go first. Carl Sagan.”

“The astronomy guy? Shocking,” I said. “I would choose Sigmund Freud.”

“So you can call him a crackpot to his face?” Harper teased.

“No! I think he would be fascinating to talk to, even if his theories have been mostly disproved. Back to you. Who’s your next guy?”

“Neil Armstrong,” Harper said with a silly grin. “I would love to pick his brain about the Gemini and Apollo missions.” “Julia Louis Dreyfus,” I said.

Harper raised a reddish eyebrow. “Is she your favorite actor?”

“No, but I bet she would be fun to drink with,” I replied. “Your turn.”

Harper scrunched up his face in thought, then said, “Tycho Brahe.”

“Who?”

“You’ll learn about him later in the semester,” Harper replied. “He was another astronomer.”

“Your answers have a theme.” I thought for a moment. “Taylor Swift. I already love her music, but it would be really cool to see her real personality over a bottle of wine.”

“I’ve heard that it’s never a good thing to meet your heroes,” Harper replied. “You might be disappointed with who she really is.”

I shrugged. “Maybe. Good thing this list is hypothetical!”

“True. My fourth is Thomas Jefferson. I would love to pick his brain about democracy and civil liberties.”

“What happened to being afraid to meet your heroes?” I asked. “You might enjoy that drink with Jefferson… until it’s refilled by an enslaved person.”

Harper shook his head and spoke in a rush. “That’s part of why I would want to have a drink with him. To discuss the hypocrisies of his beliefs. Jefferson was a brilliant man, and helped mold our country more than most other founders. But while writing about freedom and oppression, he literally owned people. I want to hear him explain himself. He must have done some incredible mental gymnastics to excuse his own behavior.”

I nodded along. I had never heard Harper speak so passionately before. It was like he was letting down his guard with me, and showing me his true self. “Well said. That’s a good answer. In a similar vein, my next answer is

Ben Franklin.”

“Franklin was from the north. He didn’t own slaves.”

“I know. My answer isn’t for the same reason as yours. But Franklin had a brilliant mind, and he spent a lot of time whoring around France. You just know he has some juicy stories!”

Harper let out an uncharacteristic giggle. “I didn’t think about that. Okay. My final answer is Lewis Hamilton.”

I frowned. “Was he related to Alexander Hamilton?”

Harper waved a hand. “No, I’m moving away from our founding fathers. Lewis Hamilton is a Formula One driver. It’s a boring answer to end on.”

I cocked my head at him. “I wouldn’t expect you to enjoy something like race cars.”

“Why? Because I’m a nerd?”

“You seem to prefer intellectual hobbies,” I said defensively. “Astronomy, and physics, and those YouTube documentaries you watch on the couch.” He took a long gulp of water. “Hey. Sometimes a guy just wants to watch fast cars go zoom zoom.”

I laughed, then cut off as the sommelier returned with an apologetic expression. “Unfortunately, the bottle I recommended to you is no longer available-we sold the last one five minutes ago. We have two similar bottles that I think you will be very pleased with. The first is from the Brittany region of France and…”

“That sounds perfect,” I replied. “We’ll go with that one.” The sommelier dipped his head and went to retrieve the bottle. I began to wonder if I should have asked about the price, first.

“Sommeliers are funny,” Harper mused. “They’re like wine pimps. They come around, ask what you like, and then recommend their best girl. Except in this case, the girl is a bottle of merlot.”

He giggled, and I laughed with him. What had gotten into Harper?

“I have to say, I’m glad things worked out,” I said. “With the whole roommate situation.”

Harper blinked, surprised at the change of subject. “Oh?”

“When I realized my three roommates were guys, I panicked. I thought it would be terrible. I’ve only ever lived with women before. I was terrified. But I now realize I’m lucky to have ended up renting a room at your house. You, and Avery, and Riley are an amazing group of guys. I’m glad it worked out this way.”

“We’re glad too,” Harper replied with a caring smile. “I wasn’t happy with the situation at first, either. I was freaking out that we would have another Jess situation on our hands.”

The last time the subject of Jess had come up, Harper had gotten really defensive. Yet tonight he was bringing her up casually. I wondered if I should take the opportunity to probe a little deeper.

Before I could, our server returned to the table. “Our sommelier is fetching your bottle of wine, but can I get you started on an appetizer?”

I ordered a plate of garlic bread to start, and then we both went ahead and ordered our main course. I got the filet, while Harper ordered the special-a bone-in ribeye with garlic butter sauce.

“You had better help me eat the garlic bread,” I said.

Harper grimaced. “I’ll try. I’m not super hungry yet. I had two brownies before we left.”

I made an offended noise. “I brought you to a nice steakhouse for dinner, and you ruined your appetite by having dessert first?”

“After you offered to make me brownies,” he replied, “I’d been looking forward to them. I couldn’t resist.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. “Wait a minute. What brownies did you eat?”

He gave me a puzzled look. “The ones out on the counter.”

“In the glass pan?”

“What other brownies are there?”

“Oh my God,” I said. “You ate Avery’s brownies. How many did you have?”

“Just two. It’s fine-he eats my food all the time.” Harper drank the last of his water. “Why is my mouth so dry?”

I lowered my voice. “It’s dry because you ate weed brownies.” His eyes widened.

“And you ate four times a normal dose.”