The Stipulation (Volume Two)

by M. L. Young

  The Stipulation

  Vol. 2

  M.L. Young

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  The end of this book contains an excerpt from Volume Three, which is now available!

  Editor: Laura LaTulipe

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblances of characters to actual persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. The author, M.L. Young, holds exclusive rights to this work.

  Copyright © 2013 by M.L. Young

  All rights reserved

  The Stipulation Volume Two

  Chapter One

  A week had passed and I still hadn’t heard from Roman. Jerome had let us exchange contact info since we were now “official,” but I didn’t take it as a free pass to bug him whenever I was lonely. I knew he was leaving to go on business, whatever that meant, but I was hoping for at least some glimmer of hope in the form of a text or phone call. I resisted sending him anything for fear I would come across as needy. I had no clue if he was even back in town, and if he was, if he wanted anything to do with me. I was positive he did, but there was still that nagging voice in the back of my head that made me question everything. If I just had some kind of contact with him, I would know for sure.

  I got out of bed and went on with my life and classes as usual. Winter break wasn’t that far away, with this being finals week. In my past semesters, I would sometimes get lucky and would be done on Wednesday, but not this semester. I had finals right up until Friday, and I wasn’t looking forward to this week dragging on slowly as each day got me an inch closer to freedom. I was actually hoping that winter break would help with Roman, just because I would have the time to go out and stay with him. I would be able to stay over, if he wanted me to, and maybe we would even be able do something together. My parents were going to be in Ethiopia for Christmas, so even if I wanted to be with them, I couldn’t. My Christmas was going to be filled with sitting in my dorm, alone, since everybody would be home visiting their families. My school left the dorms open for the people who stayed, which was about two percent of all the students who lived in the dorms. I guess they really couldn’t kick us out, considering we paid a hefty fee just to stay in here.

  I had woken late today, just making it to my first final on time. I only had one today, with all of the rest scattered throughout the week. As I walked into History 205 with Professor Stratton, he gave me a glare of disappointment as if I had just committed some bizarre and petty crime. The class hadn’t even technically started yet, with thirty seconds still left on the ever-ticking clock that hung above his desk. I gave a courteous yet awkward smile and went to my usual desk, which was in the middle of the three hundred-person lecture hall. I had to shimmy past a few people, all of them sighing in frustration as they pulled in their backpacks and feet for me to fit by. I tried to hurry, saying sorry and apologizing before I finally got to my seat. My desk was beat up, like most of the others, with old pieces of gum stuck to the bottom and carvings of male private parts and initials on the top. This lecture hall was the most ghetto, in my mind, of all at the school, but luckily I was done with it as soon as I took the final test of this godforsaken class.

  “Roman,” Professor Stratton exclaimed.

  I instantly glanced up, the name resonated through my mind and filled my head with the burned in image of Roman’s face. Was he here by some weird chance searching for me?

  “Roman life and military excellence will be talked about heavily on this examination. I hope you all studied Roman life and history extensively, because if you haven’t, you will fail,” Professor Stratton said before picking up the stack of exams to hand out.

  He was only talking about the exam. My heart sank a little as he continued to talk. For a split second, I hoped and prayed deep down that he was talking about Roman—imagining him entering the room to sweep me away in his arms to some exotic and far away land. I would leave this stale old room and leave college, only to be some trophy wife who would never have to work or worry about money again. That was the dream I was hoping I would be able to live. For now though, I’d have to accept that it most definitely wasn’t my reality. My reality was sitting here between two smelly guys who clearly didn’t shower, only to take some test I was likely never going to be ready for, even if I had studied for a week straight. Professor Stratton was known for his intensely hard exams, especially in the form of his finals. Most students rarely got above a seventy-five percent, and I was hoping I would at least get that high of a score. My other classes were going very well; meaning a C in this class wouldn’t kill my GPA.

  The person at the end of each row was given the exams—and then the stack of tests traveled the length of the row—until each one of us received a copy. I took mine and continued to pass down the thick packet of bright-white papers, just barely stapled together. There was a certain heft to this exam, a mix of multiple choice and essay, which struck fear into the minds of everyone. I looked around at the other students, with nobody showing a clear sense of confidence as they reviewed the questions. We were a bunch of cows walking into the slaughter, and only the really lucky ones would miss the bullet and instead get to walk out with their lives.

  ***

  I walked out of the exam an hour and a half later like a zombie, with my hair a little messed up from the constant rubbing of my hand against my head as my brain went on the fritz with each question that I read. I’m sure the poor souls who were waiting for the class to end, so they could go in and take their final, thought we were actors from some zombie movie, almost previewing their own fate.

  Since this was my only final for today, all I was going to do was sit around the rest of the day inside my room. I planned to study for my English final, but I had no other plans since Roman was out of town and every one of my friends were either studying or taking their finals. You really didn’t see much of your friends during finals week, but that wasn’t much different from my normal life since all I did, up until recently, was work. I had quit my job a few days ago, my manager not too happy because I didn’t give any notice. In hindsight, I should’ve, but I was just so excited to get out that giving my two weeks didn’t seem like that big of a deal. I thought Roman would be back by now and I didn’t want to take time away from him. I was hoping he’d return and still want me after leaving my job. Now I had no way to pay my tuition or bills, other than the small amount of money I had left, which admittedly wasn’t much.

  The lobby of my building was very bare, with only a couple of students there studying. Usually this place was bumping, but I even peered down the large hallway to the cafeteria and even that was bare. I was glad people were taking these finals seriously, which meant I would get some peace and quiet for once so I could study.

  ***

  I entered my room to see the complete emptiness, which was more than welcomed. Jillian must be at a final, which meant I could sit back, relax, and study in complete peace. She had this bad habit where she would chomp on her cinnamon gum when she was either nervous or studying, meaning I would have to leave or put on headphones just to be able to hear myself think. That chomping was loud and incessant, and she never closed her mouth to do it. One of my biggest pet peeves was people who didn’t chew with their mouths closed. It was almost fitting I would be roomed up with someone who did that.

  I pulled out my English textbook and study guide, for I was lucky enough to have Professor Ingle, a middle-aged woman who actually tried to give us all a chance to succeed. Either that or her job and pay were based on the performance of her students, so if she gave us a lot of answers, she wouldn’t be fired. I didn’t care what it was either way, for all I cared about was keeping my GPA up and not los
ing my grants or getting kicked out of the school, whether that meant doing it all on my own or getting a little help in the form of a well-written study guide.

  “I just don’t think I did that well,” Jillian said outside our room as she turned the handle and opened the door.

  I had just sat down and opened my books, a silent and exasperated sigh escaping from my lips, as I glared at the door. It looked like I wouldn’t be studying any time soon.

  Jillian and Tara walked inside, obviously talking about a final they must’ve just taken together. They saw me sitting there and smiled, as if they knew something I didn’t.

  “I’ve been looking all over for you today,” Tara said as she threw her arms up.

  “What did I do?” I asked, unsure if I was in some kind of trouble, if I even could be.

  “Jerome has been waiting to do your evaluation and told me to find you,” Tara said.

  “Evaluation? Why would I need to be evaluated?” I asked in sheer confusion.

  “Well, it’s not really an evaluation as much as an interview I guess. He just talks to you about your first date, things that happened, and then tells you how your sugar daddy felt about it,” Tara explained.

  “How would he know how Roman felt about the date?” I asked.

  “I thought I explained this to you before your date, but I might have forgotten. There is always a waiting period after your first date before you can see your sugar daddy again. Sometimes it’s a day, other times a week or more, depending on the guy and his career and situation. If both people said it was a success and they liked each other, more dates are set up and there would be free communication between sugar daddy and sugar baby. If the date went poorly and there is no future between the two people, then Jerome will set you up with another sugar daddy until you find one you truly connect with,” Tara explained, letting me know about this crazy side of everything I had no clue existed.

  Roman and I had a great time, at least I thought so, but what if he didn’t want to see me any longer? Tara made it seem as if this whole thing could come crashing down in an instant, and I was petrified it would. I had already quit my job and had been waiting for Roman to contact me. What if he just told Jerome the whole date sucked and he didn’t care to see me any longer? I thought we had something, but maybe I just misinterpreted it. I’m not accustomed to guys anyway, so it would be easy for me to misread all of the signs.

  “Well when does Jerome want to see me?” I asked.

  “Now would be great,” Tara said with a smile, as if I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

  I closed my books, the ones I just opened and didn’t even have a chance to study, so I could go with Tara and get this whole thing over with. I could take whatever Jerome was going to tell me, even if it were bad news. I was praying for good news, but had a gut feeling things wouldn’t go well. I slid my shoes back on, stood up, and Tara opened the door as we walked out to go see Jerome.

  “Have fun you two!” Jillian said enthusiastically, as if trying to calm my nerves.

  “You’ll be fine,” Tara said, as she placed her hand on my back.

  We walked down the hallway, and the only thing on my mind was what was about to come next.

  Chapter Two

  “Did you have an evaluation also?” I asked as we sat in her car at a stoplight, only blocks away from Jerome’s building.

  “Yeah I did, but it wasn’t that bad. He just asks you questions, kind of like a survey, and then checks over your answers and your sugar daddy’s answers to cross-reference them and see if things match up. As long as you are truthful you’ll be totally fine,” Tara said.

  “What kinds of questions does he ask?” I was trying to prepare myself, even just a tiny bit, in these few moments I had before seeing him.

  “Just where you guys went, what you talked about, if you had sex or not,” Tara said casually as we pulled up to Jerome’s building.

  We got out of the car and I wiped my hands against my pants, the sweat and clamminess wiping away as I tried to calm myself. I hated interviews and evaluations of any kind. The last one was at my old job where I basically played a game of twenty questions I had no idea the answers to. I actually made up answers on the spot about times I went above and beyond for a customer. From what Tara said, though, I had to be totally honest here, even if I didn’t have a good answer.

  As we walked through the building, my nerves went on the fritz just like my first time meeting Jerome. There was a sense of nervousness, as if he could be the gatekeeper between me slaving away at some half-rate store, or being a sugar baby and having everything paid for. If Jerome shot me down or told me it went badly, then I’d be ruined. I already quit my job and knew I would have a tough time finding a new one.

  Tara knocked on the door all secretive again, alerting the man behind the door that we belonged there. Once again, he opened the door with the chain still on, only to close and open it a second later when he noticed it was us.

  “Jerome will be right out.” He held out his hand, pointing us to the chairs to sit and wait.

  We sat in the chairs and waited for two incredibly long minutes before Jerome walked out in some black silk robe, which looked ridiculous to say the least.

  “Tara and Natalie, what a surprise,” Jerome said with a smile as he came and gave us each a hug and then a kiss on the cheek.

  This was the first time I had any physical interaction with him, so I took it as a good sign and that I had done well on my date. If I had done poorly, I’m sure he wouldn’t be so happy and friendly, and instead be malice and cold toward me because I displeased his new client.

  Jerome sat down in a large black leather chair opposite me, just the way an interviewer would be in front of a prospective employee, as the man from the door brought over Jerome’s clipboard and papers. My hands started to sweat and I could almost feel my chest heating up and turning red. I always got this strange Rorschach like rash on my chest when I got incredibly nervous—it didn’t happen often, but it always took something huge to do this to me. And Jerome was intimidating and his interview meant my survival or being sent back home to live with my parents in some commune in Africa.

  “So, I heard about your date with Mr. Parker,” Jerome said as he scanned his papers.

  “Yeah, it was great,” I answered nervously, hoping my voice wouldn’t crack like some thirteen-year-old boy.

  “What did you two do on your date?” Jerome asked as he set down his pen and looked up at me.

  “Well, we went to a nice French restaurant and had a long dinner which was nice. We talked about life and just about our interests and everything like that. Dinner ran late, and afterward he took me to his house to hang out and it was very…nice,” I said nervously, hoping I wasn’t pushing any boundaries.

  “Did you two have a good connection? Plenty of things to talk about?” Jerome asked, bypassing if we had sex.

  “Oh yes, plenty to talk about and a great connection. I think he really liked me, and I know I liked him, so I’m hoping he wants to see me again when he gets back in town,” I said as I casually wiped my clammy hands against my pants.

  “Oh, he is already back in town, but I’ve been waiting to reconnect you two until I had a chance to talk to you in person,” Jerome said as he wrote something down on his clipboard.

  Roman was already back in town? I’d been driving myself crazy not talking to him or hearing a single thing from him. I was a bit shocked that I was being held back from him, for I didn’t think that could even be allowed, but I guess I am a sugar baby and need to play by their rules if I want to continue to be one.

  “Well, I hope he’s had good things to say about me,” I said.

  “Oh he has said many great things about you. He told me how polite and sweet you were, and that he would love to see you again,” Jerome replied.

  “That sounds great,” I replied with a big smile.

  I was so relieved and happy to hear that Roman actually wanted to see me again. I guess
I did something right on our date, and now we could move forward and I didn’t have to worry about quitting my job. I was in the clear, and on my way to a paid off student loan balance.

  “So Mr. Parker informed me that you two had sexual relations on your date,” Jerome said as he checked something on his clipboard.

  “Yes, we did, is that a problem?” I asked nervously, wondering if I had crossed some line in having sex with Roman.

  “Not a problem at all. In fact, I’m impressed that you decided to give up your virginity on your first date with Mr. Parker. It really shows me that you’re willing to go that extra mile to keep your sugar daddy happy, and that’s something we can all wish and hope for. After all, a happy and satisfied date means that everybody is happy and satisfied,” Jerome said with a smile.

  “See Jerome, aren’t you happy I brought her to meet you?” Tara asked.

  “I’m very happy, Tara. I think that Natalie will be with us for a very long time to come, and I couldn’t be happier for that,” Jerome said as he set his clipboard and pen down on the coffee table in front of us.

  Jerome stood up, prompting Tara and I to quickly follow, for our time and evaluation was now coming to an end. I’m guessing I passed, since Jerome said nice things about me and never said I did anything bad or that Roman had any problems with either our date or me.

  “I’m going to inform Mr. Parker that he may now contact you at his convenience. Please remember to keep him happy, and you may now schedule your own dates with him. You are officially a sugar baby, Natalie,” Jerome said with a smile.

  I smiled cheek-to-cheek, unable to say a word, as I gave Jerome a hug and waited for Tara before we exited the apartment and made our way to her car. I wasn’t sure if I should wait and get my welcome bag, filled with a pamphlet and everything I needed to know about being a new sugar baby. Would I also get a VHS tape with an old black and white video like they showed us in middle school health class? I was being a bit foolish with those thoughts, but I thought I’d at least get a little more guidance than I had gotten from Jerome. I guess that’s what the Internet is for.