Jeff/Annie (Community) fic
Fic: The Importance of Cramming (or, Four Times Jeff said Bye to Annie Before the Summer, and One Time He Didn’t)
Author: Nakanna Lee
Pairing: Jeff/Annie (Community)
Rating: PG-13 for language, sexual overtones (you’re in Jeff’s head, so)
Spoilers: Up through S1
Word Count: 6,000
Disclaimer: I don't own Community or any of the pop culture references. I just like them a lot.
Summary: Jeff learns that finals week sucks. And Annie’s not making things any easier.
A/N: Huge fan of this pairing and first post here. *waves* Hope you enjoy!
MONDAY
Finals week sucked.
Unfortunately it had just started. Jeff was avoiding any thoughts of Charlemagne and Germanic history while he waited outside the classroom, instead dedicating his mind to the bikinied bodies that awaited him in Bermuda when these horrific five days ended and freed him for the summer.
“Jeff! You have my books!”
He mustered the strength to turn his head. Annie was sprinting to him.
“Are you accusing me of booknapping?”
“If that’s what you call falling asleep while studying, yes. But that’s not what I mean.” Annie was in a green cardigan with a skirt that seemed shorter than usual. Maybe Jeff was imagining things. She looked at her things which were most clearly held in his hands. “I mean you took my books. After study group.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because you got them mixed up?”
“Right, because I also draw hearts and vampires all over my possessions.”
“I’m not into vampires.” Annie gave him a flat look, but it took one arching eyebrow from Jeff to make her eyes light with a smile. Jeff gave himself a point. And then kicked himself for continuing to give mental points for Annie-related things.
“Come on, Jeff. I have fifteen minutes before Astrology and I really want to refresh my mind about Andromeda.”
“Can you tell me my fortune? I’m a Pisces.”
“That’s astronomy.”
“Can you palm read?” Jeff held out his hand.
A year ago Annie would have sighed, maybe even broken down in a panic. But now, she pursed her lips in a wry, determined way and took his wrist with one hand, the other tracing the lines crisscrossing his skin.
Jeff might have corrected his breathing.
“Oh, Jeff,” she said, with exaggerated concern, “your head line is so long-”
“I hope that means what I think it means.”
“It means your ego is swelling. And look.” Annie dragged a finger nail across his palm, sending actual goose bumps skittering across the back of his neck. “Your life line is breaks off early.” She was shorter but literally stared him down. “Because I’m going to hurt you if you don’t give me my books back.”
Jeff shrugged, trying to ignore the fact she was still holding his hand. It was cute in a weird way. For a split second he thought of what it would be like to link fingers, or reach out and run his hands through her hair. She had a yellow barrette above one ear.
“Annie. I did you a favor,” he said. “For once, don’t cram every second before the test. Relax. Go gossip about who has the nicer burberry scarf. Over some coffee maybe. And lucky for you, I have a flask of whiskey with me, you can pour in a few shots.”
Annie rolled her eyes. “If I fail I’m coming after you.”
“With thank you cards and a grateful smile.”
“Jeff, I really need those books back.”
“And I kind of need my hand back. How about we compromise?”
Annie’s face flushed. She released her grip and Jeff smiled, but he could still feel feathery light touches moving across his skin.
This was not good. This was supposed to go away.
He handed over her astrology textbook and pink notebook. He’d glanced through them earlier-he was bored, really he was-and was surprised to find only the occasional flower or star sketched along the margins. There was also no Annie + Vaughn 4ever scribbles. There were at least five to-do lists all for this week, though, and he also found the beginning ramblings of an Abed and Troy sketch-written during lunch, apparently, because there was a coffee stain and she paid too close attention in class-that made him laugh out loud. It involved a dinner date between Chaplin and the Beatles, two references he would have never anticipated from her.
He chalked it up to the recent student film festival and too much time with Abed. But still.
It was almost disappointing. Sometimes it was easier to think of her as a young girl, someone who was most definitely off limits.
“Hey, thanks for wishing me a good summer,” Jeff called after her as she wheeled around, flipping open to a page and disappearing into her study zone. She didn’t answer and he watched her disappear down a crowded hall.
***
TUESDAY
Finals continued sucking.
Mostly because the only thing Jeff prepared for was being unprepared. And for wearing the right cut jeans with the appropriate shirt. That took up a considerable amount of time. He was saved with natural bed head hair, though, so morning prep could have been a lot harder than it was.
But finals? Finals were a joke. The thing was, he had no doubt that they could still go smoothly.
Except people kept interfering with his laidback disregard. It was hard not caring when people insisted that you did.
“You’re the editor. How do you not know any of this?”
Annie stared at him, waiting for an answer. She was seated on a chair in his journalism office, while he was slouched behind the desk, eating some knock-off variety of Cheetos Troy hadn’t wanted.
“I lead by my instincts,” Jeff said. “I’m like Tobey Parker, except I don’t take photos and I get to sit at the big desk. And that whole shooting-web-from-my-hand thing.” He tossed a cheese curl into his mouth. “Leadership.”
“Well, in journalism the lead is the opening sentence, meant to capture the reader’s attention. And the body is…?”
“My body or your body?”
“The article’s body.”
Jeff rooted through his snack bag. “Don’t get so flustered, Annie. You don’t want to talk about your body?”
“Jeff, stop it. This isn’t Sex Ed, this is journalism.”
“Wow, so your gutter brain jumped right to Sex Ed?”
“Stop projecting! You’re the one talking about bodies!”
“This could be anatomy.”
Annie huffed, her words getting tangled. “Then you’d be talking about dissecting frogs or the smell of formaldehyde, not about my body.”
Jeff wanted to smile at her but the room suddenly struck him as very small and very dim. It would have been suggestive except his fingers were covered in processed cheese dust.
He turned his head to the side, considering, then went for a joke. “Did you ever watch Mad Men?”
“Can we focus, Jeff? You’re going to fail.”
“I bet you could look just like those women. Confident, sexy women.” He added quickly, “Business women.”
Annie just kept looking at him. Back in April she’d started using perfume or shower gel or something that smelled like apples. It was nice. When he sat next to her in study group or lunch he could smell it strongly against her neck, in her hair. He wondered if it made her taste sweet.
Shit.
He paused. “I’m just saying, you know, because we’re sitting in an office and you’re dressed professionally for some reason even though this is just community college not a law firm, and really, you could show up in sweatpants and still look...uh…”
He closed his mouth. He was beginning to think he’d lost his ability for lawyerspeak, meaning he couldn’t ramble and still sound clever and intelligent. Annie was staring at him like he was stupid.
“You’ve never seen Mad Men?”
“I think you’re spending too much time with Abed.”
“I don’t think you’re prepared to argue that that’s a bad thing.”
Annie gathered up her shoulders and looked back to her study sheet, which she had typed up and highlighted the night before. “I don’t think you’re prepared to say suggestive things that end up making you more uncomfortable than they make me.” She looked at him again and smiled. Actually smiled.
Jeff was sort of glad he was sitting behind a desk.
Annie’s cell phone started beeping. “That’s my alarm,” she said. “One forty-five. Time for the test.” She opened the office door, then looked back when Jeff hadn’t budged. “Aren’t you coming?”
“I’ll… be there in a few minutes. I just want to review some… things.”
Annie was out the door. “Don’t be late.” She poked her head back in. “And in case I don’t get to talk to you after, have a good summer.”
“Yeah,” Jeff said shortly. “You too.”
Damn it, he thought, and shifted.
***
WEDNESDAY
Finals week sucked, but at least Wednesday’s latest incarnation involved no paper and pencil.
Jeff was racking when he caught Annie peeking into the gym room. He lifted his gaze from the green of the pool table and gave her a questioning look. The second she saw she’d been caught, her eyes grew wide and she scooted away from the door.
He caught up with her halfway down the hall.
“Annie?”
She turned around as if she’d never been running in the other direction. Her facial expression dropped into breezy, disinterested. With an underlying level of nervous. “Oh, Jeff. I didn’t see you. What’s up?”
“I was going to ask you… Oh, can you believe it, I forgot.”
Annie gave a chirpy, “Good!” But then Jeff snapped his fingers.
“Wait, now I remember.” He laughed then segued into deadpan. “Were you spying on me?”
“No!”
“Right, you’re just casually fleeing the scene of a snooping crime. You were spying on me.” Jeff was amused. He leaned back against the wall, next to a poster featuring the Human Being photoshopped into a polo match, an advertisement for the up-and-coming equestrian team.
“I was… I was just seeing how your pool final was going.”
“Because you’re so interested in pool.”
“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m considering taking it next semester.”
“Except you already filled out your schedule, and strangely enough your overload of course work kind of butted into your gym time.” The fact that Jeff could name every class she had next semester was unimportant. He told himself this often.
“You wouldn’t want to take pool, trust me,” Jeff continued. “Especially since Coach has a fondness for dropping drawers and…” An impressed smile slid across his face. “You’re interested in naked pool.”
“Jeff, no I am not.” Her voice rose a full octave. It was better than a lie detector.
“So Annie came back for an encore. Didn’t see enough the first time around?”
“Jeff, don’t be gross.”
“Gross? Okay, now I’m a little offended.” He paused. “You thought I was gross?”
“No. I mean, yes, you talking about it, yes.”
“But seeing doesn’t constitute gross.”
“Seeing constitutes as…” She considered and rolled her shoulders back. Her hands hooked on the straps of her backpack. “Not gross.”
“To be honest I was going for ‘highlight of your life,’ but I guess I’ll take ‘not gross.’ I hope you give Vaughn better feedback than that.”
Annie wrinkled her nose. Jeff raised his eyebrows.
“You didn’t …?”
“That’s none of your business, and I broke up with him three weeks ago.”
Jeff tried to feign disinterest but it was difficult. He didn’t know how Annie corrupted his poker face, but she did, and often. He shoved sincerity beneath some playful sarcasm.
“Well thanks for the info that’s none of my business. You know you keep your private life very private. I didn’t even hear any new anti-Annie songs in Vaughn’s set list.”
“I don’t really know if I want to have this conversation with Jeff Winger, King of Conquest. Unless you’re interested in gathering information about Vaughn.”
“Can I be interested in gathering information about you?”
Annie looked taken aback. Jeff winced.
“Annie, look, I’m sorry. That was-” He paused, then mumbled something. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
Her face was firm, and it startled him, because she lost all the softness that was usually available to him.
“There are a lot of things you shouldn’t say, Jeff. I’ll see you,” she said, and left before he could get in another word.
Jeff sighed. He stared at the idiocy of the Human Being perched on a steed. He wished the polo mallet would hit him over the head a couple times.
“Shit,” he said.
***
THURSDAY
Finals week sucked.
But nothing reached the most supreme level of suckage that pottery class did.
All they had to do was make one last piece of pottery. A bowl, a cup. Annie was making another phallic-inspired vase, although at this point Jeff was pretty sure she had no idea how accurate she was being. Maybe a little zealous. The thing was at least ten inches. Not that he was looking or anything.
Jeff, meanwhile, molded his project into a ghost-shaped vase. (Patrick Swayze was too hard to sculpt, and Abed said it was too soon.) But the vase was also too lumpy and exploded in the kiln, taking out-suicide bomber style-every piece of pottery that was happily cooking beside his.
It was a ghastly scene when their professor broke the news the last day of class. People gasped. Abed provided voice-over narration of the pottery apocalypse. Annie, who’d been ignoring Jeff since yesterday, started crying about The Inevitable F. And then tah-dah, Fake First-Time Pottery Guy whipped together substitute projects for everyone in the class. Somehow that was considered acceptable and everyone passed.
Everyone but Jeff. He was given the shattered head of his murderous ghost vase instead, like some sort of voodoo hex.
Jeff was sitting on the hood of his car in the parking lot, thinking Bermuda Bermuda Bermuda like it was some magic chant that would bring about his vacation now. He wasn’t sure he could get through one more day. The group wanted to study tonight before Friday’s Spanish final, the last one everyone had, but Jeff was seriously considering blowing it off. He’d exceeded his amount of effort for the week. Maybe even the month. He was forgetting how to slack effectively.
“You forgot this.”
He looked up. Annie was standing in front of his car, holding out the remnants of his pottery disaster.
Jeff waited for the inevitable moment she’d ream him out in that sincere way that made him actually feel guilty. He’d spent the entire week making comments that were borderline at best, and then he’d destroyed her pottery tribute to the male figure. There was some irony there but it involved too much effort to come up with an amusing symbolic explanation.
Meanwhile, Annie didn’t look like she was going anywhere. Neither was the piece of pottery.
“Oh, thank God you found it,” Jeff said. “I was going to make it into a keychain.”
“You could hang it from your rearview mirror, like plush dice or an air freshener.”
“But even better, because it’s a cursed ghost head out of clay.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“And that sounds like something I would say.”
“Maybe you’re wearing off on me.”
Jeff laughed, short and quick, and craned his head up to the glint of the sun. “Now there’s a bad idea.”
Annie shrugged. “I think we’re all wearing off on each other. Did you hear Shirley’s been teaching me to bake brownies? I know that a cornerback is not the quarterback standing in the corner of the field, thanks to Troy. And last week Abed forced me to watch The Goonies, and I actually liked it.”
Jeff let his head fall to the side, considering. “Well, thanks to Pierce I try to make at least one racially unacceptable comment weekly. And Britta’s taught me how to be cynical with self-righteous purpose.”
“See? We’re all good for each other.”
“Yeah.” Jeff smiled. He shook his head once. “Look, Annie. I’m sorry if I’ve said things to you that weren’t-”
“It’s no big deal. I overreacted,” Annie said. “You don’t have to treat me like a child. I guess I appreciate that you treat me like you would any other girl.”
“But you’re not. You’re…” Jeff frowned. “I don’t know. You’re Annie. You’re my friend.”
“Then we’re good.” Annie held up the pottery ghost head. “Do you want this?”
“How about we see how much football you’ve learned this semester. Give it a throw.” She smiled, as if excited for the out of character moment he’d introduced. Jeff nodded, narrating, “Annie takes the two-step drop-”
Her throw had height more than distance. It didn’t clear the last row of the parking lot. It landed, instead, on a window shield that cracked in, really, the most interesting way Jeff had ever personally witnessed.
It also set the car alarm off.
“Oh no,” Annie said. “Should I get the license number?”
“No,” Jeff said, and grabbed her arm like he was about to lead her around on a campus tour. He tugged her into the car instead. “This is the part where you learn to lie low.”
Which was how they ended up in the back seat of his car, slouched out of eye range. Annie’s head was resting on Jeff’s legs, scrunched at the right side of the car, and her feet, in yellow flats, were crossed next to his chest. Jeff’s neck was at a very uncomfortable angle, and he realized how fortunate they both were that today Annie had opted for Bermuda shorts and not a skirt. Bermuda didn’t even make him think of his vacation at this point.
People were beginning to flock to the damaged car.
“I think I should just tell them it was me,” Annie said after a few moments.
“It’s fine,” Jeff said. “I’m sure we’ll only have to hide for a few minutes.”
Someone outside started yelling about the clay ghost head. Someone said “Jeff Winger” and “asshole,” in no particular order.
“Or you know, an hour or so,” Jeff said. “Just until things calm down.”
They lay next to each other for a long silence while the chatter continued outside. Jeff tried to ignore Annie’s legs, even the small stretch that was showing. They were pale, but it was nice in a way.
“Your car smells good,” Annie said.
“My car?” Jeff figured she hadn’t noticed the burger wrappers littered on the floor.
“Yeah. Or maybe…” Annie turned her face into his jeans and smelled them. She closed her eyes and Jeff stared at her long lashes. “Never mind. It’s you.”
“I smell good.”
“At least your jeans do. Do you spray cologne on your jeans?”
“No, that’s just my natural musty man smell.”
They were quiet.
“This is kind of uncomfortable, Jeff.”
“How do you think I feel? I’m three feet taller than you.”
“This was your idea.”
“No, this is poor execution of the idea I had.”
Annie sat up. Jeff did too, by default. It was a kneejerk reaction mirror image.
“Get down, they’ll see us!”
“This isn’t your idea either,” Annie said. “Let me guess. Your idea is more like this.” She leaned forward so quickly Jeff didn’t have time to react, and then she was kissing him so soon Jeff couldn’t really take credit for his performance either. His mouth worked automatically, separate from his brain.
Twice, his brain was too busy thinking. Twice she’s the one who launched herself on me.
With no transition at all. Just-LAUNCH.
He raised his hands to cup her face, but she’d already pulled away. A poised, almost triumphant smile was on her face. But there was doubt there too, as if she had to prove something and wasn’t sure if it was to him or herself.
Jeff felt antsy. His nerves crackled beneath his clothes. It was weird. He wanted to touch her. He really wanted to see what he could do to make her eyes close. But overwhelmingly he just wanted to kiss her again, feel the way she sighed into his mouth. It felt like that would be enough. And that thought startled him.
Annie lifted her hand to move a piece of hair behind her ear. Jeff reached out and finished the gesture for her.
“Whosever idea this is, it might not be a good one,” Jeff said. The words came out disjointed, because he was a little distracted by the fact that she kept watching his mouth move. And her knee was kind of digging into his thigh.
“I’m just kissing you.”
“Yeah. In the backseat of my car.”
“And since we’re at the movies, and it’s dark out, it might go somewhere.”
“Annie, don’t talk about things going somewhere.”
“Why not? I’m not a child.”
“I know that. I’ve always known that.” Jeff looked at her, simply. “And that’s the problem.”
Annie’s face softened, though her brows knitted in slight confusion, as if suddenly she had to rework everything. He watched her, then tugged gently at the end of her hair and they leaned in again.
There was a rap on their window. Abed was on the other side, holding the broken piece of pottery that was now responsible for a class’s worth of projects and some unfortunate soul’s windshield.
“Looks like the Ghost might have worked his supernatural magic after all,” Abed said, muffled.
Jeff and Annie stared at him from the backseat of the car.
“Really, Abed?” Jeff said.
“It’s almost the perfect summer rom-com, except it’s not quite summer, and you both might be too dysfunctional to be lighthearted and funny. Plus there’s the age gap, which a large portion of movie-going audiences will consider a squick factor.”
“I consider this a squick factor,” Jeff said, as Abed stared praying-mantis-like through the window. “Go get a refill of that popcorn, Abed. I promise we’ll only start making out when you get back.”
“Cool.” Abed jetted off.
“I’m kind of going to miss that,” Jeff said. He looked across at Annie, who was suddenly no longer smiling and opening the car door.
“Annie?”
“Abed’s right,” Annie said. She sounded almost panicked as she exited the car. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Wait, wait. Sure, okay, Abed does have some freaky perception about this kind of thing. Or really any kind of thing related to us. To the study group. But you heard him. He said ‘to a large portion of movie-going audiences.’ That leaves a small portion.”
Annie frowned.
“I’m in that small portion,” Jeff said.
She sighed and looked over her shoulder, across the parking lot. “I think whoever owned that car is coming this way,” she said. “Oh. And it looks like Senor Chang.”
“Annie-” Jeff tried, but at this moment ducking back into his car was more important. He wondered if he lay there long enough, he’d blend into the upholstery and the smell of apples.
He heard Annie redirecting a very perturbed Senor Chang, who was shouting something in Spanglish. The voices dimmed and then disappeared, and Jeff sighed with relief.
He waited for Annie to come back, but she didn’t.
“See you, Annie,” Jeff said to no one.
***
FRIDAY
Finals week-
Actually, Jeff didn’t care anymore. He cared even less than not caring. As far as he was considered, finals week had made him numb inside.
It was a good thing, he kept telling himself.
Jeff watched the rest of the Spanish class thin out and hand in their finals at the front of the room. He was now convinced the test was impossible. He glanced back down at his paper. Chang had put every grammatical booby trap in the Spanish language on this exam. Not to mention every boot verb they’d learned, and some they hadn’t. Watching everyone else get through it with general ease, Jeff concluded it was entirely possible that Chang had given him a different test, one that was excessively hard and would relegate him to Spanish Uno Cero Dos all over again in the Fall.
If he lived until then. Jeff pictured the relief of jumping out a window, but then decided 1) Spanish was a first-story classroom and 2) He’d bought plane tickets to Bermuda that meant tomorrow he’d finally be surveying bikinis and lathering up his mojo. Oh yeah. Only a matter of time.
“Cinco minutos!” crowed Chang. He twiddled his fingers together and cackled. Jeff waited for the hairless cat to appear and sit on his lap.
Jeff frowned. He considered the windows again, and in between people in t-shirts and shorts walking briskly around campus he caught sight of Annie, pouring over a notebook on one of the benches. Crazy girl. Spanish was the last final of everyone in the group, meaning Annie was most likely studying for next Fall. Jeff couldn’t figure out why she did this to herself. Her cardigan-even in the May heat, she had in her possession a cardigan-was tied around her neck. Her ankles were hooked. Her legs were bare, and even from the classroom he could see small dimples in her knees-
“Finalmente!”
Jeff’s head jolted back down to his test. He shrugged. He wrote what he thought was the word for Tuesday but might have been quesadilla, he wasn’t sure, and handed it to Chang with an easy adios.
Free free free.
Jeff strode across campus towards the parking lot, mentally reviewing how much free time he was going to have. He’d expected study group to want to hang out over the summer, and while Shirley and Annie had supported that idea with eager smiles since January, Jeff knew it wasn’t going to happen. Sure, Abed and Troy would probably hang out every day and do whatever weird stuff it was that they did. But Britta had some Australian backpacking adventure she’d gushed about, Shirley had her kids, and Pierce no longer had Jeff’s number. (He’d swiped Pierce’s phone one day and changed a two to a seven. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be friends with Pierce, it was just he didn’t want to spend time with him and/or his Buddhist cult unless it was absolutely necessary or particularly funny.)
And Annie, he thought. Well Annie was probably bombarding herself with summer courses, trying to get credits faster so she could transfer sooner.
And there she was, still sitting on the bench, still reading that notebook.
Jeff was content to keep going for some reason, he couldn’t place it. Maybe he felt he’d done enough damage. But at that moment Dean Pelton ran across the lawn chasing Starburns, shouting something about Greendale’s Village People tribute band, and the ruckus made everyone turn and look. Including Annie. She caught Jeff’s eye along the way and gave a small, relieving, smile.
Jeff smiled back with a longsuffering Can you believe this is a legitimate place of education look. He was walking over to her before he even realized she’d never gestured for him to join her.
“Haven’t I taught you anything?” Jeff asked. “Are you really going to make me booknap something on my last day of the semester?”
“I’m not studying.” Annie closed the book.
“Then what are you reading?” Jeff leaned over and Annie reacted quickly, pulling the notebook to her chest and preventing him from seeing. Jeff raised an eyebrow. “Annie Edison, are you reading erotica?”
“No!”
“I’m sorry, inappropriate comment.” Jeff paused. “So you’re writing it.”
“Jeff!” Annie’s face had turned bright red. Jeff grinned and sat down beside her. She pursed her lips, which weirdly enough made a tiny furrow appear between her eyebrows. Jeff smiled again.
"So what is it?”
Annie shook her head but she was looking straight at him, and Jeff was very, very good at tweezing out the trust in people’s eyes. Except with Annie looking at him like that, all secret and soft, he sort of forgot what clever thing he was supposed to be doing.
You have to swear you won’t tell,” Annie said. “No camera phone pictures.”
“I swear. This will be an official summer secret between you and me. Insert Abed movie reference. Goonies?”
“I think we have to find a treasure map.”
“We have three months.”
She looked doubtful.
He shrugged reassuringly, but inside it was suddenly very important that he saw what she had. It was one last moment of Greendale to take with him over the summer. He scratched out that last thought when he realized it was, frighteningly, sentimental.
“I promise I won’t tell,” he said. “We could write our loyalties in suntan lotion but sadly, my SPF is in my luggage awaiting everything that is not Greendale.”
After one last glance over his face, Annie lowered the book and opened it for Jeff to see.
“Songs About Annie?” Jeff skimmed the first page, then started flipping through. He was grinning before he’d had time to fully appreciate everything. “Vaughn gave this to you?”
“How did you know it was Vaughn?”
“Do you have other men on campus composing musical odes to you?”
“Maybe.”
Jeff grinned. “Besides, I know his handwriting. Although it’s nice that he’s now decided to write each line in alternating green and purple.”
“He says they’re the colors of the sky and earth’s souls,” Annie said, “before people corrupted them with diesel and empty Pepsi bottles.”
Jeff looked at her and was amused to see the smile rising on her face. Any evidence of hippie necklaces and friendship bracelets had been gone for a while. The initial infatuation had ended early. Even when they were still together, most times Jeff forgot she was even dating Vaughn, or dating anyone for that matter. He’d see her in study group or catch her in the hall, or sometimes they’d grab lunch together-him eating a burger, her crunching carrots and stealing his fries-or as a group. And she’d always seem so singular, a mess in perfect order, suddenly his go-to for advice.
“Look at this one,” Annie said, pointing to a page.
“Oh Annie Edison,” Jeff read aloud, “You’re like my all-natural medicine. Like cocoa butter good for my skin.”
Annie took over when it started to be too much for his wry straight face. “You’re like that light bulb invention. Because you light my soul when it’s dim.”
“Oh Annie Edison.” Jeff looked at her like she was in possession of the Holy Grail and using it as pencil cup. “I really can’t take a picture of this?”
“I was kind of impressed that he put in a historical reference.”
“Annie, he probably thought you were the one who invented the light bulb. Please say he mentions the telegraph.”
“I suggested that, but he said he wasn’t good at math.”
“He’s a complicated man. Remind me why we didn’t prank him on April Fool’s? Besides the whole Britta’s cadaver ruining everyone’s fun thing.”
“I was a little busy bashing your head into the table.”
“I do remember that, although for a while I didn’t because my short term memory was pretty much gone, thanks, Psycho.”
Annie looked at him strangely. It took Jeff a moment to realize that she was trying to determine whether he was making fun of her or…not.
He reached over and gave her shoulder a friendly push. It made her hair swish to the side and a smile spread across her face. She glanced down at her lap and moved a strand of hair behind her ears. It made the light falling on the curves of her collarbone change. He also noticed-not that he was looking-a small birthmark peeking out between her cleavage.
Jeff suddenly felt weirdly, incredibly, stupid.
“Jeff?”
His eyes shot up, but it was a little late. He tried a charming smile but it quickly became apologetic, then awkward. At some point Annie always made him run through those emotions. If only he didn’t care so much. But she made him care. About his classes, this malfunctioning school, the study group. About treating people half decently. About kissing her.
He literally almost heard his brain screech to a stop. Rewind. Decently. Decently was a decent place to end that thought.
“We still should have punked him,” Jeff said. “We could have slipped chicken into his tofu. We could have made him wear shoes. Not sure how, but I’m sure we could’ve figured out details. I’m thinking superglue would have played a very important role.”
“Actually we broke up before April Fool’s Day,” Annie said.
She’d done a surprisingly good job at keeping it quiet. Jeff wondered if Shirley or Britta knew. Maybe that was the problem. If he’d known earlier, he could have paced himself, not tried to cram everything into the last week of school.
Cram? Jeff stopped himself. Since when did he cram? Jeff Winger didn’t have to cram-it was supposed to come naturally, casually, without effort.
Annie just didn’t fit that technique.
Annie really didn’t fit anything.
“So what are you paging through his songbook for?” Jeff asked finally. “You having second thoughts?”
“No, I was looking for him so I could give them back. But I just heard from some of his hackysack friends that he left school last week to join the Peace Corps.”
“You drove a man to the Peace Corps, Annie.” Jeff sounded wry and impressed.
She rolled her eyes. “He was already talking about it.”
“So why are you still waiting around?”
“Oh.” Annie looked the other way as if something very interesting had caught her attention. Jeff checked but there was nothing but the Human Being wordlessly encouraging bypassers to join him in a flailing YMCA tribute. “I just thought I’d, you know, say bye to you.”
“Bye?”
“You know, have a good summer, that sort of thing. You didn’t come to study group last night.”
Jeff cocked an eyebrow. “Do you want to sign my yearbook? Oh that’s right, Greendale doesn’t have one. Luckily, though, I am collecting signatures on my chest.”
“Really? So am I.”
Jeff almost did a double-take. Annie offered up a smile only. It was almost… mischievous.
“You catch on very quickly, Miss Edison. Although I’m going to have to let that opportunity pass.”
Annie nodded. She didn’t look surprised, but she did look a little regretful. Jeff leaned back, going for casual, and hating the fact that nothing around Annie ever came naturally. It was so much work.
In a good way. In a weird, good way.
“But maybe you want to risk your life with me and get that Human Being water ice they’re trying to pander off? That is if it hasn’t been destroyed to the strains of Macho Macho Man.”
Annie looked him over carefully. “I don’t know about risking my life.”
"Okay. Do you have an idea?”
"A better executed idea?”
“That seems to be more your thing than mine.”
“Okay.” Annie paused. “Can I get back to you tonight with an idea?”
“Annie, are you asking me out?”
She shook her head but the corners of her mouth lifted. “You couldn’t get through this seriously, could you?”
“I hope you didn’t expect me to.”
“Not really.”
“Okay.” Jeff got to his feet. “Call me and let me know. Just one question. Vaughn.”
“Yes?”
“Is that a first name or last name?”
“Actually he goes by his middle name.”
“Damn it. He’s even smarter than we thought.”
He’d taken two steps away when suddenly he remembered Bermuda, the tickets waiting for him in his condo and the luggage already packed. He turned around and looked at Annie. She’d closed the songbook and was running a finger over her nails. A slow smile was moving across her face.
“Annie, I’m sorry, I forgot,” Jeff said.
She looked up just as he leaned down to her and scooped her face up in his hands. In his head he wanted to do it deeply, sweep his tongue along her lips, search out the warmth of her mouth. But he found himself kissing her close-mouthed, confident-finally-but softer than usual. He felt her hands overlay his, the pressure of her fingers against his skin. He inhaled her scent, apples and fresh dryer sheets.
Which reminded him.
“Whatever I wear tonight is going to be wrinkled because it’s been shoved in luggage for the past week,” he said against her lips. He grinned as Annie giggled and pushed his chest away. “I’m trying.”
“That’s weird,” Annie said. “Don’t try so much.”
It was the strangest advice she’d ever given him. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her that it probably wouldn’t happen any time soon.
end