“Thanks.” He sits back in his chair, drinking his water and studying me.

“What?” I ask self-consciously.

“Trying to figure you out. What are you into?”

“Everything and nothing. I didn’t play sports in high school or anything like that.”

“Had to have been into something.”

“I was into socializing. Turns out you can’t make a career out of that unless your parents are rich and famous.”

“Damn those Kardashians.”

“Right?”

“Genevieve, Genevieve, Genevieve.”

I love the way my full name sounds when he says it. I was always sort of embarrassed by it. Teachers would comment on how beautiful it was, which to a middle schooler, is super humiliating. Kids would taunt me with it, at least until I got boobs, then it became some sort of bad pickup line. “Genevieve, huh? Cool name.”

Cue swooning. Not.

Except, I’m sort of swooning now and all he did was say my name. And I’m also staring at him when I’m supposed to be saying something. Anything.

“Heath, Heath, Heath.”

His playful smile makes my stomach flip.

“I’m going to get ice cream.” I stand before he can comment and take my time at the dessert bar creating a perfect sundae.

He’s picking at the chips on my tray when I get back. “I assumed you were done.”

“They’re all yours.”

“What is that?” he asks, face twisted in disgust as he eyes my bowl of ice cream.

“Neapolitan with sprinkles and gummy bears.”

“All the flavors are touching.”

I laugh and bring a big spoonful of all three flavors to my mouth. He continues to watch on horrified.

“I don’t understand Neapolitan flavor. It’s ice cream for people who can’t make a decision.”

“Not true. The decision is we want all three and don’t want to settle for one boring flavor.” I offer him my spoon. “Wanna try it?”

His mouth pulls into a tight line and he shakes his head.

“Come on.” I sit forward and lean over the table to get the spoon closer to his mouth. He opens and I feed him, which turns out to be a surprisingly intimate thing. His throat works, eyes locked on mine, as I sit back and study his reaction to the food.

“Well?”

“I think I swallowed a gummy bear whole,” he says, voice tight.

We finish the rest of my ice cream and if Heath eating more than half of it is any indication, I’d say he likes my Neapolitan sundae just fine.

After, we take a walk around campus. It isn’t as busy as it is during the week, but lots of other people are out walking, hanging out in the shaded areas, playing frisbee, and some are even going in and out of buildings.

Eventually we take a seat on the ledge of the fountain in the center of campus. It’s one of my favorite spots.

“So, you’re all right?”