by Hazel Kelly
Of course, I was young and impressionable, so when he told me everyone in Britain has sex at fourteen, I believed him. I also let that “fact” plant the idea in my head that I shouldn’t go to college a virgin, if I could help it.
Naturally, he was enthusiastic to relieve me of my burdensome virginity. Unfortunately, though, his thin, pale body wasn’t half as alluring as his accent…which still failed to endear me to his dirty talk, especially when it included the C-word. I shuddered at the memory.
On the plus side, I liked having a well-traveled boyfriend to pass notes with in honors English Lit.
But that didn’t come close to the rush I got from having Luke Hudson’s attention, even though I had no clue what I’d ever done to deserve it.
“Number?” the pouting hoodie in the mailroom asked me when I reached the front of the line.
“421a,” I said, rocking back on my heels.
“ID?”
I handed him my student ID.
He scrutinized it before looking back up at me. “I thought your name was Caitlin.”
My stomach dropped. “Nope. You must have me confused with someone else.” Fuck. Maybe Nikki was right. If this guy could still see Caitlin in me when I wasn’t in my lady of the night costume, perhaps I wasn’t as plain looking and forgettable as I thought.
Maybe a guy like Luke could genuinely be attracted to me.
The guy plopped a short stack of mail on the counter a moment later and handed me my ID. “Next.”
I carried the stack to my room and laid it on my desk. Most of the flimsy flyers advertised parties for student organizations and sorority meet and greets. Fortunately, they were all recyclable.
There was one pamphlet that interested me, which was from the health center. It listed all the services I could get for free as a student. I shoved it in my junk drawer in case I wanted to read it later.
Underneath that, there was a letter from home. I wiggled my finger into the top corner and slid it down the side, destroying the envelope but freeing the card…and the crisp hundred-dollar bill inside it.
Rosie,
I hope you are excelling in all the ways that count (and that your safety whistle has been around your neck since we left). Your mother shared your article with me, along with the news of your promotion. Very proud of you. I already figured out how to stream the student channel in case you get some airtime. Fingers crossed.
Also, your mother is not taking to her “retirement” quite as seamlessly as you are to your newfound independence. If you can find some time to give her a call, I’m sure it would brighten her day.
Love,
Dad
PS—If the money is still in here when you get this note, treat yourself to some “books”
I slid the bill back in the card and moved on to the last package, a small padded envelope. The boyish chicken scratch on the outside was my only clue as to who it might be from, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up.
I used my purple scissors to carefully cut one side open before pulling out the contents. There was no note, just a CD that had “Finalists” written across its shiny surface.
I tapped the CD drive on my computer, laid the disc in it, and sat down in my desk chair. A moment later, Bryan Adams “(Everything I Do) I Do It for You” started trickling through the small speaker. I was equal parts flattered and mortified…until the next song came on.
It was Savage Garden’s “Truly, Madly, Deeply.” I crossed my legs, folded my arms, and leaned back in my chair. Sure enough, the next song—Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes” —was even cheesier.
That’s when my embarrassment turned to amusement.
Next came Boyz II Men’s “I’ll Make Love to You,” which was when my whole face started to burn up, and by the time Barry White’s “You’re the First, the Last, My Everything” came on, I had my face in my hands.
A few songs later, Etta James’ “At Last” began to play, and a tear of love-struck bliss finally escaped my watering eyes and rolled down my cheek to the edge of my stupid smile.
I shook my head and sighed, letting the heavy warmth in my heart pin me to my chair as I thought about Luke and his silly sentimental choices.
Receiving a playlist was one thing, but receiving a playlist of shamefully tacky love songs was as funny as it was sweet, and I sort of hated him for making me fall so hard, for making me feel so much.
What hope was there now for me to stay guarded or keep a cool head or think rationally about this guy? I was doomed, swept, smitten, sprung, and infected by all the ridiculous, obsessive notions captured in those songs.
I scrolled back up the track list, deciding I would indulge myself with one more play of “At Last” in an attempt to wring out the rest of my pathetic tears of joy.
But right as I was about to hit play, my phone rang.
“Nikki.” I dragged my fingers under my eyes. “Hi.”
“Are you okay?” she asked. “You sound… breathless.”
“I’m fine. I was just…laughing at something.”
“Right,” she said. “Did you get my Facebook message?”
“No. What does it say?”
“Our squad’s going up to a lake house this weekend. It’s, like, a pretend team building activity.”
I doodled Luke’s name on a sticky note and drew a big, bubbly heart around it.
“But it’s really just an excuse to hang out with the football team,” she said. “I guess they’re staying around the corner. It’s some last hurrah thing before their season officially starts.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And I want you to come.”
I stopped doodling and straightened in my chair. “Because…?”
“Because I don’t want to make epic memories without you,” she said. “And because Luke will be surrounded by nothing but dick thirsty hos otherwise.”
“That’s not a very nice way to talk about your teammates.”
“Do you want to come or not?”
“Can I think about it?” I asked.
“What is there to think about?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But I’m not going to hop on the bandwagon just because it’s rolling through town unless it suits my schedule.”
“Fine. But if you don’t come, I’m not going to report back about Luke’s behavior. What happens at the lake stays at the lake.”
“Noted,” I said. “I’ll let you know.”
“By tomorrow night at the latest,” she said. “So I know if I have to sort a ride for you, too.”
“No problem.”
“And by ride, I mean lift out there,” she said. “Something tells me you can find your own ride once we get there.”
I rolled my eyes. “Bye, Nikki.”
“Bye, Mrs. Hudson.”
T W E N T Y T W O
- Luke -
I figured it was about time I check out the library. Not that I intended to start hanging out there. Even if I liked it, I had another building I was supposed to study in with my teammates that was staffed with full-time tutors and sign-in sheets.
If we didn’t spend a certain amount of time studying there each week, we’d get kicked off the team. Granted, it was kind of fucked up that the school didn’t trust the athletes to manage their own course load without the built-in big brother element, but at the same time, it was a useful resource. God knows I never got shit done in my apartment.
I stepped through the metal detector, acknowledged the desk attendant, and pushed through the double doors that led to the ground floor. Personally, I wasn’t much of an architecture buff, but even I could see that it was an attractive building.
Several floors opened out over one main room that bordered an attractive outdoor courtyard, which featured a handful of stone benches.
Unfortunately, outside seemed to be less crowded with flowers and pretty girls reading than it was with smoking hipsters, their hands shaking from the caffeine running through their veins.
It took
a while to locate which remote corner Rosie had stolen away to, but I eventually found her hunched over her books in a private cubicle, tapping one foot to whatever she was listening to.
She jumped out of her skin when I touched her shoulder.
“Luke,” she said, pulling her earbuds out. “What are you doing here?”
I pulled my backpack around to my front and reached inside. “I brought you sustenance,” I said, setting a small brown bag beside her oversized coffee. “In case you don’t have time to grab something before your quiz.”
She blinked at it before looking back at me.
“It’s some sort of spiced pumpkin scone thing,” I said. “Seemed like something you’d like.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” she whispered, craning her neck up to see if we were disturbing anyone. “But I really appreciate it. I’m actually starving. I just didn’t want to lose my sweet spot.”
I smiled, surprised that anyone would describe a random library desk as a “sweet spot.”
She tried to open the paper bag, but cringed at the crumpling sound and stopped. “I’ll have to take it outside.”
“I wanted to ask you something, too,” I said, ducking my head two inches, as if it made me less conspicuous.
“You could’ve just texted me.”
“I did,” I said. “A few times.”
Her mouth fell open.
“But when you didn’t respond to the dick pics, I got worried.”
She closed it again.
“That was a joke.”
An Asian girl with purple lipstick popped her head around the corner. “Do you guys mind?”
“Sorry,” Rosie said, raising a palm towards her. Then she looked back at me, stood up, and rolled her eyes towards the shelves to our right.
I stepped back and followed her between the rows.
“She’s just jealous that she didn’t get any dick pics,” she whispered when we were out of earshot.
“She loved her CD of cheesy love songs, though,” I said, stepping around the corner at the end of the row and turning to face her.
She pressed her lips together and looked up at me. “Funny,” she said. “I got one of those, too.”
“You did?” I asked, feigning surprise.
“Was that from you?”
“Only if you liked it,” I said, grabbing the edge of her flannel shirt and pulling her towards me.
“I did,” she said, tracing a finger along my chest.
“Was there a winner in there?”
“Nothing but winners,” she said. “But choosing a song is so hard.”
“I know. Makes you appreciate how good ‘I Swear’ really is.”
She smiled. “What did you want to ask me?”
I stepped forward so her back was pressed against the end of the wooden shelves. “I’m going out of town this weekend,” I said, dropping my eyes to her lips and dragging two fingers along the edge of her jawline. “To Copper’s Lake.”
“Oh?”
“And I really want you to come,” I said, sliding a hand between her legs. “If you know what I mean.”
A flush of pink passed across her cheek like a paint stroke. “I thought it was a team thing?”
“You already heard about it?” I found the seam of her jeans and pressed it against her.
Her eyelids fluttered. “Nikki already asked me to come with her squad.”
I leaned my face down to whisper in her ear as I pushed the seam back and forth across her bud. “What did you say?”
She pressed her head back against the shelves and bent her knees, sinking against my moving hand. “I said I’d think about it.”
I brought my lips to hers and kissed her, tortured by how difficult it was to do it quietly. Especially when all I wanted was to suck her tongue into my mouth, moan around it, and send vibrations down to meet my shaking fingertips.
Rosie slung her arms over my shoulders and tilted her hips towards me, her enthusiasm making me swell. When she pulled her head back, her breathing was shallow and stunted. “I’m close,” she said so softly I had to read her lips.
I applied more pressure with my fingers, using her furrowing brow as a guide.
“Right there,” she mouthed, her wide eyes on my lips. A moment later, she trembled against me and let her head fall to the side.
I leaned down to suck her neck as her body came to a stop, my fingers still basking in the heat emanating from between her legs.
When she lifted her head back up, she touched her nose to mine. “Thank you for that.”
My eyes bounced back and forth between hers.
“I wish I could return the favor,” she said, glancing down at the bulge between us. “I feel bad there’s nothing in this for you.”
“Give me a taste,” I said, casting my eyes down her body.
“What?”
I locked my eyes on hers. “Stick your fingers deep in your pussy, and let me lick them clean.”
Her lips fell apart.
“Or I’ll have no choice but to drop to my knees and go in for a taste myself.”
She stared at me.
I bent my knees.
“Wait,” she said, grabbing my shoulders. “I’ll do it.”
I straightened back up and kept my eyes on hers as she unbuttoned her jeans and slid her hand down the front of her pants. As she dipped her fingers inside, I watched the tension melt from her face.
“Deeper,” I whispered. “I want them fully glazed.”
She swallowed.
“Dripping.”
When she pulled her hand from her pants, I reached for her wrist and sucked her fingers in my mouth, using my tongue to lick the space between them.
“You’re a freak,” she whispered as she pulled her hand back.
“Don’t you forget it,” I said, buttoning her jeans.
“I have to study,” she said, glancing at her watch. “My quiz is in less than two hours.”
“I understand. Good luck.”
“Thanks.” She looked down at my aching cock. “I’m sorry to leave you like this.”
“It’s fine. I’ll just think about my roommate’s skid marks for a sec and then I’ll be out of here.”
She scrunched her face. “What?”
“Or anything else equally unsexy.”
“So…not my tits, then?” she said, her mouth bending into a smile.
“That’s just mean. You should go.”
She blew me a kiss and stepped backwards down the aisle.
“One last thing,” I said.
She stopped in her tracks.
“Can I count on seeing your face this weekend?”
She walked back up to me, put her hands on my shoulders, and rose up on her tiptoes so I could feel her hot breath against my ear. “You can count on seeing a lot more than that.”
T W E N T Y T H R E E
- Rosie -
“Are you seriously telling me that you wear a thong every day?” I asked as I followed Nikki down the woodchip-covered path.
“Every day,” she said. “Since I was twelve.”
I could hear music in the distance, which I was grateful for as just watching Nikki walk through the woods in high heels made me uneasy. My Converse High Tops, however, were keeping me nice and comfy. “Is that even healthy?” I wondered aloud.
“I don’t think it’s a health issue. Besides, I don’t really have a choice considering how much time I spend in spandex.”
“I suppose you have a point,” I said, stepping over a tree root that was growing through the path.
“I can’t believe you haven’t completely converted yet,” she said. “They’re so much more comfortable. And sexy.”
“Can’t argue with you there.”
“Wait.” She turned around abruptly. “Please tell me you’re wearing one right now.”
“Obviously,” I said, smoothing her dress down over my hips.
She looked at me like I’d given her a real scare before continui
ng down the path.
I rolled my eyes. As if I hadn’t been planning what panties I’d wear to this thing for days. “Do we need some kind of emergency action plan?” I asked. “In case I lose you at the party?”
She stopped at the edge of the forest and looked at the still lake on our right. “Do you have your whistle?”
“Yeah,” I said, letting my eyes climb the hill on our left until they reached the glowing cabin windows.
“Great. Then blow it.”
“In the middle of the party?”
“Yeah,” she said. “If it’s an emergency.”
“What if I just miss you and want to check in?”
She started up the hill. “Then you’re not drunk enough and you should take shots until the feeling goes away.”
I knew she had a point. After all, I was a big girl. I should be able to handle myself at a party, especially when I knew a few of the guys on the team and some of Nikki’s friends. Still, I was nervous that everyone was going to see right through my slutty disguise and know I didn’t belong there with the jocks and the jersey chasers.
Nikki stopped at the stairs leading up to the back porch.
“Why did you stop?” I panted.
“So you could catch your breath before we go in.”
“Right,” I said, envying her athletic lungs. “Thanks.”
She opened her small purse and pulled out the water bottle we’d been slugging vodka out of on the way over. “Might as well finish this before we go in.”
“It’s only been two minutes since our last shot.”
She took a swig and then stuck out her tongue and pulled a face. “So? You had a big dinner.”
“I had two slices of pizza.”
“That’s not a big dinner for you?”
I squinted at her.
“No wonder my dress is tight.”
My mouth fell open.
“I’m joking, Jesus. Just finish it already,” she said, handing me the bottle. “Otherwise it’ll be your fault when I’m blacked out in twenty minutes.”
I gritted my teeth before choking the last dribble of liquid pain down my gagging throat.
“You look beautiful, by the way,” she said, pinching my cheek and setting the empty bottle on the stairs.