by Kitty Wilder
She saw the first lonely life flooding back, this silence, the emptiness in the house, Ben always gone on a job, except now she was older and used up. Left in the silence to remember all her broken dreams, to feel the depth of her reliance on someone providing for her and her growing uselessness.
She laughed at herself, or at least tried to, and rested her head on the armrest of the couch. There were plenty of people who had followed the path set before her and were perfectly happy. She could be happy too.
She felt her eyes grow heavy and slowly felt the living room and all her fears slip away into a dreamless sleep.
Lucy was startled awake by her phone chiming in her hand. She sat up with a curse, looking out the window to find the last blues and purples of the sunset bruising the sky. She looked down at her phone and saw it was already evening, but it wasn’t the time that made her heart catch in her throat. There, on her notifications bar, she saw John’s name and a text: You’re very welcome, sweetheart.
She felt herself melt back into the couch with a smile that grew with every second she remembered kissing him.
The casserole!
Lucy threw her phone aside as she realized it wouldn’t be long before Ben came home, and she still needed to get ready for her classes tonight. She flew into the kitchen and began mixing furiously before throwing the dish in the oven to cook while she hurried upstairs to shower and get dressed.
The casserole was barely finished cooking by the time she needed to leave. It was with a satisfied grin that she left it out on the counter, still covered to hold in the heat, for Ben to find whenever he came home. After sending a quick cryptic text to him about a surprise waiting for him at home, she grabbed her bags and hurried out to her car.
Her evening began with algebra with Professor Pemberley and would follow with Intro to Philosophy. She felt a little awkward as she slipped into the class and hid in the back, unsure of where she stood with Doris or how the woman felt about her spending so much time with the man she was so obviously interested in.
Professor Pemberley’s scrawny frame, in a bland brown dress down to her ankles and thick knit green cardigan, paced through the aisles as she returned the test results from their previous week. Her pursed lips tugged up in the corners ever so slightly as if to smile, but then fell back into their usual neutral scowl as she placed Lucy’s packet down in front of her.
Lucy stared at it confused. Page after page of gory red marks covered her work with a failing grade largely scrawled out on the front.
“For the most part, all of you did very well,” she began at the front of the room. “I’m very impressed most of you were able to keep up. For those of you who didn’t pass, may I suggest perhaps taking a different class paced more at your speed.”
Lucy looked around and it was obvious she was the only one who hadn’t passed. She was no mathematician, but she knew most of her answers were correct, more than what she had been given credit for. This was a personal jab at her. Did Doris know about the other night? Did she know that John and Lucy had shared a kiss, well, a couple of kisses? There hadn’t been anything else. This was a disproportionate response. Lucy couldn’t afford to fail a single class. If she failed, she’d have to ask Ben for the money to retake it.
She spent the class distracted, going over a dozen different things she could say to Doris, and a thousand different curses, but decided to handle it professionally and only as a last resort involve John.
As class wrapped up and her peers shuffled out of the room to move onto their other classes or head home for the night, Lucy lingered behind.
“Professor?” Lucy caught Pemberley’s attention before she could sneak away.
“If you have a minute, maybe you could help me understand exactly what went wrong here?” She lifted her murdered, red stained packet.
Doris stuffed the last of her folders in her bag and slung it on her shoulder. “Really, Lucy, we spent this whole semester going over this stuff. If you didn’t understand then, I don’t think I can help you now.” She didn’t miss a beat as she continued walking and exited the classroom, leaving Lucy confused and frustrated.
Her brow furrowed and she felt her jaw clench. In an indignant fury, she slung her bag and purse over her shoulder and stomped her way across campus to seek Professor Wright’s help on the matter. His little pet, fucking Doris, was taking her delusions out on Lucy now. It was unacceptable. He had to do something.
The door to his classroom was closed and through the little slotted window, she found him at the front of the classroom finishing up the class before hers.
She quietly cracked open the door and slipped into the back of the room while his head was turned. She set her bags down and slumped into one of the empty desks, trying to keep a low profile, something that had never quite been her strength.
She was shocked to see it was John and not any of the other students eyeing her. He was too observant to be fooled. His luminescent gray eyes snapped up into the back row and found her almost immediately and locked eyes with hers, stumbling just for a moment through what he was saying. After composing himself and making sure to look well away from the intent staring of the young goth girl in the back, he continued quickly through the rest of the information he was giving the class, wrapping up about ten minutes early; something he was definitely not known for.
When the last person left, she stepped over her bags and made her way down the steps to his desk, his careful eye watching each movement.
He said nothing as she approached, no acknowledgment of what had passed between them the previous night.
“Um,” she faltered, finding she also needed to look away from him to compose a coherent thought. “So Doris is kind of being a bitch, but I don’t want to make it a whole thing and get her in trouble over it.” She pulled out her failed exam from her backpack and held it up to him. “I think I only should have gotten a few of these wrong. I triple checked.”
John looked closely at each page. “Yes, so it seems.”
“When I asked her about it, she said she couldn’t help me understand and that I should drop to a lower class.” Lucy wanted to ask if the woman knew what had happened, if she knew about their kiss. More than anything, she wanted to know what he thought about it. The walls built back up around him made her wonder if he regretted it now.
“I’ll have a talk with her. This isn’t appropriate behavior for a staff member.”
Maybe he still wanted her, like he had said in his car. Why would he say it if it wasn’t true?
“I think she doesn’t like me...” she trailed off, not sure if she should say why out loud.
“Yes, I don’t think she does either, but that’s no excuse.”
She couldn’t hold it back. “I think she doesn’t like me because of how much time I spend with you. Is she jealous?”
His lips tightened. “I truly don’t know what goes on in that woman’s head. I told you she is convinced there is something more between us. I’ll speak with her.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
They stood silently for another moment. She waited for him to say something about the other night or invite her out again, anything, but instead, he said, “If that’s all, Lucy, I have some work to get done before class.” He turned back to the stack of papers on his desk.
Her name had once sounded so musical on his tongue, but now it sounded more like a curse. “Of course. Yeah. Okay. I have some things I should get done too.” She went back to her seat, grabbed her things and tried not to look like she was moments away from bursting into tears as she quickly exited the room.
She made a hasty retreat into the nearby restroom to hide away in the farthest stall to compose herself. She felt an overwhelming sense of shame and embarrassment when she realized it was the very stall she had hidden in not so long ago to touch herself to the thought of him.
Feeling sad and hurt, she scolded herself, pushing all the negative emotions away and headed to the terrace outside to get some fresh
air and maybe get a head start on some reading before class. As she wound her way between the metal tables and scattered chairs, she saw, in the faculty parking lot, what she was sure was John’s figure. The vague outline of a suit, the gait, it had to be him. He walked over to one of the few cars sitting in the almost empty lot to the gangly, hunched silhouette who could only be Doris.
Lucy ducked down under one of the tables, observing them unseen.
John’s hands flared out around him. His voice carried across the asphalt, angered, but his words were muddled by the distance. He yelled at her, pointed a finger at her face.
Lucy wished she could have heard what he said. She was happy he defended her so passionately. She was just about to sneak back inside when those fuzzy feelings were shattered.
Doris said something, her voice unheard, but it was obvious by the movement of her body. She flitted her hair and opened her arms with welcome. He leaned in. His hand rested on her shoulder. Doris looked up and rested her palms on his chest. Then his head ducked down. It looked like he was either kissing her or whispering in her ear, maybe kissing her neck. But it didn’t really matter. It was an intimate gesture. He had been untruthful with Lucy. They were definitely a couple.
Lucy was too angry to cry. She didn’t feel sad anymore, just infuriated at being made a fool. She stomped off the terrace and crossed quickly to the part of the lot open for students to run home to hide under a mound of covers until she forgot this whole ordeal. She fumbled her keys and saw the couple pull apart as they became aware of her. John was definitely looking at her, the shadowy outline of his head aimed directly her way. She swung her car door open and pretended not to notice them, too mortified to face either of them before making a hasty retreat home.
She blocked out the feelings roiling in her belly by blaring her radio, cranked up as high as she could manage without bursting her ear drums. She didn’t care what played so long as it drowned out the awful thoughts in her head.
She pulled up to find Ben’s car parked outside the house and saw the flickering light of the television beyond the sheer curtains. When she went inside, she found him lounging on the couch in his underwear and an old t-shirt playing his war games with his friends, some crumpled up fast food wrappers and a couple empty beer bottles scattered around him.
“Hey, babe,” he welcomed when he heard her close the front door.
“Hey,” she smiled through the threat of tears still tugging at the edges of her face. “Did you like the casserole?”
His eyes flicked over to her in confusion for just a moment before returning to the TV. “Casserole?”
The tears pressed harder to break through. “Yeah, the casserole. I made you dinner. That was the surprise. I left it on the counter for you.”
“Aw, babe, I’m sorry. I didn’t even see it. I grabbed food on my way home and only went into the kitchen for a second to grab some drinks. I had no idea.”
“What the fuck did you think the surprise was? You didn’t even text me.”
His brow scrunched down in remorse and he shrugged, “Honestly, I totally forgot about it. I’m sorry. I had such a crazy day.”
She sighed and dropped her bags, trying her best not to lose it.
“But we can have it for lunch tomorrow together.” He returned to the explosions on the screen and commented on someone’s mistake to the riotous laughter she could hear coming loudly from his headset.
“It’s been sitting out for hours. I don’t think it’s good anymore. I’ll just throw it out.” She turned around to head down the hall to the kitchen and couldn’t stop the three fat tears that dropped out of her eyes as she scraped the food into the trash and washed the dish. She wiped her cheeks in frustration. It was an honest mistake and not worth getting mad over.
She turned the lights off and made her way back to the living room and without a word, began to strip out of her clothes, letting each article of clothing fall away to the carpet beneath her. She just needed to feel close to him. Feel like she was home.
She boldly walked in front of the TV and Ben paused his game. “Hold on one sec, guys. I’ll be right back.” His deep brown eyes widened as he looked her over in surprise. “Uh, what’s up, babe?”
Lucy let her long black hair down to spill over her shoulders and past her breasts. She reached behind her and unclasped her bra. “I want you to fuck me. Right now. And call me sweetheart.”
Ben grinned a little. “Cool. Like some sexy roleplaying? Give me just a minute here to finish out this game.”
She grimaced and slid her panties down. “No. Now.” She kicked them aside and reached down and spread her pussy lips to tantalize him.
“Fuck. Just... just a minute, baby. The guys need me real quick. We’re almost done.” He started to reach up to unmute his mic, but was stopped by Lucy tugging his headset off and setting his controller aside as she climbed into his lap.
“I need you,” she rasped as she ground her hips down onto him.
“Babe! Ugh,” he trailed off as she kissed up his neck and ear. His eyes rolled back and he cursed again. One of his hands slipped around to cup her ass while the other slid under her to open his boxers.
“No,” Lucy grabbed his wrist. “Not yet. No rushing tonight.”
Ben looked at her caught off guard by this new behavior. “You’re gonna ruin these boxers. You’re making a mess everywhere,” he chuckled, but she could tell he was actually worried about it.
“So I’ll fucking wash them.”
“It’s just... they’re my comfy pair. I don’t want to have to change.”
“Just relax, baby,” Lucy cooed, frustrated, but kissed down his jaw.
Ben tensed beneath her. He was resisting. She could feel him looking around her at the TV and felt his hand creeping away to the controller beside him.
“God. Fine. Just play your fucking game,” she finally snapped and shoved herself off of him.
“What the fuck, Lucy? What the hell is wrong with you? Look, just give me about five minutes to finish up this round,” he motioned towards the television, “and then we can do whatever it is you want.”
“Just never mind,” she grumbled, picking up her clothes. “It’s just... PMS or whatever. I’m going to bed.”
“Baby, come on. Don’t be like this. It’s been forever. I want to, really.”
“Forget it,” she snapped again and then hurried up the stairs to hide away in their bedroom. She felt her heart break a little on the staircase when she heard him return to talking to his friends, making no further attempt to coerce or apologize.
She felt the hot tears she had been fighting begin to squeeze out and roll down her cheeks one after the other in a growing deluge she had no hope of stopping. She tossed her clothes on the master bathroom floor and then locked the door behind her and drew a bath. No longer fighting the storm that had been growing, she stepped into the hot water and slid beneath its warm blanket and sobbed quietly into the bubbles, not knowing how much of this was about Ben and how much was about John.
She emerged from beneath the water and exhaled deeply as she washed the tears from her face. “What a shit day,” she sighed to herself.
She closed her eyes and blocked out all the internal dialogue rattling around in her head and just existed for once, no words, no thoughts, just the hot water around her and the gentle smell of lavender permeating the room.
The peace lasted for a whole thirty seconds before the buzz of her phone in her discarded dress shocked her out of her tranquility. She debated for a minute whether or not to get up to see what it was. It couldn’t have been Ben. He would’ve just come upstairs to yell at her for being a weirdo, at least she hoped he wasn’t that lazy. Eventually, she gave in to her curiosity and stepped out of the refuge of her bath and crossed the room to her pile of clothes. She lit up the screen and was surprised to see a text from John.
John: What you saw wasn’t what you think. Please come out and talk to me. I’m outside.
Lucy bit h
er lip, deciding whether or not she should. As angry and hurt as she was, she could feel this inexplicable hold on her, some invisible line he could tug to keep her coming back despite her own best efforts. Whether he knew it existed was yet unclear. She also couldn’t stop thinking about his stubble tickling her. His tongue in her mouth. Or his fist in her hair.
Lucy: I’m in the bath. Just text me.
John: I’d rather speak in person. I can wait.
Lucy: Maybe I don’t want to talk to you anymore.
John: It’s important, Lucy. Please.
Lucy grumbled to herself and dried off as quickly as she could, the ends of her hair still dripping as she slipped into a black tank top and shorts.
Ben didn’t even notice her in the foyer, didn’t say anything or ask a single question.
Lucy wiggled on a pair of flip flops and slipped out the front door. She shivered and immediately regretted her wardrobe choice when she felt the fall night air hit her. Quickly, she hurried down the walkway to John’s black car parked on the curb.
John looked at her, surprised, as she pulled the door closed quickly. “Aren’t you cold?”
She pointed the vents at herself and cranked up his heater. “I was getting ready for bed. It’s what normal people are doing at this hour.”
“We both know you’re not normal,” he stated, the corner of his mouth tugging up warmly.
She rolled her eyes. “What the hell are you doing here? You should be teaching. What do you want that’s so fucking important you can’t text it?”
“You also should be in class.” He paused. “I understand there are some extenuating circumstances tonight, but don’t let it happen again or I will fail you. I warned you of these rules the first night of class.”