Building the Family

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Building the Family Page 3

by Amy DeMeritt


  “So, someone completely emptied the ice machine. They must be having a party. Do you want to try to get some from somewhere else?” I roll over and sit up. “No, it’s ok. It doesn’t hurt as much anymore. Thanks though. I guess I should go so I don’t take up your entire day.” I stand up and her face shows disappointment. “Oh, ok. Well, if you have to, but you can stay if you want. I don’t actually have anything to do today.”

  I shuffle on my feet a little, unsure what I should do. I look at her and she’s twisting the hem of her tee shirt with one hand in a nervous way. This actually gives me the courage to sit back down on her bed. I sit and scoot back against the wall with my legs straight out in front of me. Madison smiles broadly and walks over to join me. She sits less than a foot away from me with her smooth tan legs crossed and stretched out. Next to each other, my legs are just a couple inches longer and a few shades darker.

  The closeness in skin tone to Madison is a big contrast to the way Sam’s milky white skin looked next to mine. No matter how hard Sam tried, she just couldn’t tan. She would burn really bad, but after it peeled, she was stark white again. It frustrated her so much, but I thought it was cute. I like her pale smooth skin. I don’t have to try to tan; my skin is just naturally darker. If I do get even just a little bit of sun, I become very dark, like burnt sienna.

  “So, what do you want to do with psychology if you decide not to pursue fame as a singer?”

  “Don’t you mean, if I fail at becoming a famous singer?”

  “Nope. I don’t believe in failure. If you don’t achieve something, its only because you stopped trying.”

  “I like that. Well, I guess if I stop trying or need something to pay the bills while I’m trying, I want to be a child psychologist. Particularly, children that have been subjected to physical and mental abuse.”

  “That’s very brave. Just thinking about having to hear the horrors they went through and help them work through them makes me feel sad. I don’t think I could do that every day. What made you want to work in that field?”

  “Someone I knew a long time ago.” She looks up at the ceiling, as if in deep thought. I wait, but she doesn’t explain and I don’t pry. After a couple minutes, she says, “I’m surprised you didn’t ask me to sing for you.” I laugh and look at her confused. “I’m sorry, did you want me to?”

  “No. I mean, I would if you did, but I just mean that most people do. When I tell people that I like to sing, they always ask me to sing something.”

  “Well, if you had told me you’re a painter, it would be weird for me to ask you to paint me something, right?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Well, singing is also an art. If I won’t ask a painter to paint something for me, then I shouldn’t ask you to sing something for me. I respect that you’re an artist and it should come out when you are feeling inspired, not when I demand it of you.”

  “You are very unique.”

  “Uh, is that a good thing?”

  “A very good thing. I’m sorry you got hurt in the process, but I’m really glad we met today. You’re the first person here that I actually feel comfortable with. I don’t feel like you are judging me or have any expectations of me at all. I feel like I can be myself with you.”

  “Oh, I have expectations of you.” She looks over at me shocked and I laugh. “I expect you to not disappear after I leave your room today because I feel the same way.” She smiles really big and blushes again. “I’ll happily meet that expectation.”

  Chapter Three

  I thought that when I came to college, it would be easier to get myself up in the mornings. I argued in my mind that my interest in high school wasn’t great enough to motivate me, but once I got to college that should change since I’ll be studying a subject I’m actually interested in. That theory hasn’t held up, however. First of all, not all of my classes have anything to do with science, which is irritating. Second of all, I’m just not a morning person – plain and simple.

  My first class was at eight o’clock in the morning and I barely made it on time. I was able to grab a seat in the back just as the English professor was starting her lecture. I’m pretty sure I fell asleep with my eyes open because I don’t remember much of what was said, but I do remember her walking around the room in her tight pencil skirt, switching her hips dramatically as she turned to write on her white dry erase board.

  She has that naughty librarian look that is very distracting. I pretty much stopped in my tracks the first day I walked into class and saw her standing at the board writing something with her back slightly arched, ass just barely raised, and legs spread shoulder width. She’s a beautiful woman with dirty blonde hair that she almost always wears down and straight, or up in a half ponytail. She’s built nice with just a little bit of a generous waist and a fuller face. She always has a pair of thin rectangular glasses on and paints her lips a deep crimson cherry red. She had looked over just as I was about to regain my pace to find a seat and smiled at me in a knowing way. It made my face flare bright red and I immediately found a seat in the back, where I continue to sit every class, out of embarrassment.

  Sam thought it was funny that the first girl I checked out since coming to college was my professor. She joked about me having a fling with her, but then when I humored the idea just to play along, she got mad and changed the subject. I would never really try to be with a teacher – that’s just weird, even if they are close in age. Miss. Steinberg is probably no more than thirty, if that. She’s really attractive, and has a very nice voice, but I could never realistically consider being with her because she’s an authority figure.

  I have an hour before my next class so I decide to go sit somewhere to read over what I missed in class. Just outside one of our commons buildings is a tall fat tree that I’ve pretty much claimed as my favorite place to sit and read or study. It has a shallow dip in its trunk that just perfectly cradles my back.

  I read the same page in my textbook three times and I still have no idea what I read. I just can’t focus at all. What’s my problem? I close my eyes and lean my head back against the tree trunk. Maybe, if I take a nap, I’ll be able to focus better.

  Just as my head becomes hazy and my random thoughts are starting to turn into an intricate dream, a foot gently kicks the bottom of my foot. I open my eyes and staring down at me is Madison. My face instantly spreads into a huge smile. I haven’t seen in her a few days, since she helped me ice my bruise.

  “You’re in my spot. Can I join you?”

  “Sure.” I scoot over a little and she sits down next to me with her arm and leg pressed against mine. “So, I realized after you left that we never exchanged numbers. I thought about trying to catch you before you reached your dorm, but I didn’t want you to think I was some weirdo running after you while I breathlessly clutched my chest as I asked you for your number.” I laugh hard and pull out my phone. “Trying not to disappear on me?” She smiles and nods. “You’re not getting rid of me.” I smile and hand her my phone. “I’m going to need your digits so I can hold you to that.”

  She takes my phone and quickly adds herself and then sends herself a text from my phone before handing it back.

  “Do you have time restrictions or anything that I should know about with texting you?” I look at her confused and she laughs. “I mean, I don’t plan on texting you at 3am, but my roommate is weird and gets pissed off when anyone texts her after 8pm, unless she texts them first.”

  “Uh, no, I don’t have any problem with you texting me after 8pm. But if you wake me up at 3am, it better be for something really good. I’m not a morning person.”

  “What if I just can’t sleep and I want to hang out?” I groan a little and lean my head back. “Ok, but you better feed me junk food and soda to help me stay awake.” Madison laughs. “What’s your favorite junk food and soda?”

  “Oh man. You’re seriously going to wake me up at 3am, aren’t you?” She smiles and shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe. It would be a go
od test to see how much you want me to stick around.”

  “And if I go along with this, what do I get to do to test your loyalty to this agreement?”

  “I’m sure you’ll think of something.” I smile and laugh a little bit. I can think of plenty. “Ok, my favorite junk foods are chips and those pizza-filled pretzel bites. Soda is a toss-up between root beer and club soda.”

  “I love those pizza bites. Ok, we are definitely dragging you out of bed at 3am, soon.”

  “You know we can have pizza bites at normal human hours, right? We don’t have to be awake at 3am to eat them.”

  “Normal human hours? What is 3am attributed to, if not humans?”

  “Well, it is called the devil hour, so basically, zombies, vampires, werewolves, night crawlers, giant man eating spiders, and a whole host of other horrible things. Not humans.” Madison bends over laughing hard. “You are only digging yourself in deeper to being guaranteed a 3am wakeup call. Now I have to prove to you that there aren’t any dangerous non-human creatures running amuck at that hour.”

  “Oh, my god. You’re seriously going to get me out of bed at 3am to eat pizza bites, drink soda, and hunt the evil creatures of the night?” She laughs again and bumps my shoulder playfully. “Most definitely. It sounds like a great adventure.”

  “I’m going to cook up a good one for you next. You up for anything?” She looks at me with curious pinched eyebrows and a small smile. “Legal?” I nod. “Then, yes. Ok, I have to get to my next class. I’ll talk to you later.”

  She stands up and she has some dirt on her butt and thighs. “Uh, you may want to dust off.” She looks over her shoulder and smiles. I blush a little as I watch her quickly run her hands over her plump rear and muscular thighs. When she finishes, she looks at me and smiles. “See you later.”

  I watch her walk away till she disappears around the corner before I gather my books to start heading to my next class. I really like Madison, and not just because she’s so pretty and built so damn well. She makes me laugh and I like talking to her. For some reason, I don’t feel as silly and awkward around her as I usually do with pretty girls. I’m very comfortable around her.

  I take my seat in the back of the class and open my notebook to prepare to take notes. My history professor is a very fast speaking man that spends the entire class just spouting facts with the occasional dramatic waving of his hands and body for emphasis on particularly “interesting” or “exciting” parts of the “historical story” he’s spewing. He’s pretty hard to follow. I’d be better off using a tape recorder in here and then slowing it down later when I try to study.

  “Hey.”

  I look to my left and a cute girl with a blonde pixie cut, gauged earlobes, and thin soft looking lips, is sitting next me. I noticed her a few days ago, looking at me from across the semi-circular lecture hall, but we’ve never spoken before.

  “Hey.”

  “I’m Shane.” She puts her hands up on her desk and I notice the rainbow sweatband on her left wrist. “Kayla.”

  “Cool.”

  She smiles and looks to the front of the class. Ok, that was possibly the least interesting conversation I’ve ever had with someone.

  I jot down the date at the top of my notebook on a clean page and quietly wait for class to start. I hate getting to class early. This awkward wait for the professor to start lecturing is almost too much to sit through. I almost want to walk out and stand in the hall till the very last second.

  Startled, I nearly jump out of my chair when I feel my phone vibrate in a weird way in my pocket. I pull it out and smile really big.

  Madison: How do you like the vibration I picked for my contact notifications?

  Me: Are you trying to prove that you’re going to use my number by teasing my leg with a vibrator?

  Madison: OMG! I just laughed really hard!

  Me: Aren’t you supposed to be in class?

  Madison: I am in class, but it hasn’t started and these people sitting around me are boring.

  Me: And I’m the most interesting person in your contacts that you could dredge up to keep you company?

  Madison: Did you not just make me laugh really hard? Any interesting people in your class that I’m keeping you from?

  Me: Nope. Some random girl sat down next to me and said, “hey”. The conversation literally was “hey” and my name is… then “cool”

  Madison: Sounds like a riveting conversation. Sorry I missed it.

  “Is that your girl?” My head snaps around so quickly that I feel my neck pinch. “Excuse me?” Shane points to my phone. “Who you’re talking to.” I’m so taken back by the bluntness of the question and the direct intrusion into my privacy that I literally stutter to respond. “No. It’s a friend.”

  “That’s some smile for a friend. But good to know.”

  She smiles and turns back around. What the hell? Why would she just assume that I’m texting with “my girl”? How would she know I’m gay? It’s not like I’m wearing a rainbow gay badge like she is. I know I don’t dress super feminine, but I don’t dress like a dude either – well, usually. I’m wearing girls Bermuda shorts, a tee shirt, and Converses. There really isn’t anything about my outfit that screams lesbian.

  I want to tell Madison about it, but I’m afraid it will scare her away. I don’t know how she would feel about me being gay. She might not want to be friends anymore. Or if she’s into girls, and possibly me, she might think I’m making it up to try to get her to confess her attraction. She might feel like I’m trying to rush things.

  Before I can decide what to do or respond to her, she sends another message and my face instantly spreads back into the huge smile I had on before Shane interrupted.

  Madison: Did your new desk-mate suddenly become more interesting and steal you from me?

  Me: No, sorry. She got nosey about who I was texting.

  Madison: I can’t stand when people do that. Oh, damn. Class is starting. TTYL

  Me: Later

  I think if I hadn’t met Madison, the idea of the cute little blonde sitting next to me might have excited me. But until I know if I have a chance with Madison, or even Awenasa, I’m not the least bit interested in talking to Shane.

  This class is already hard enough to follow because the teacher talks so fast and is a little erratic with his body movements, but it’s even more so with this girl sitting next to me, glancing over at me every so often.

  When Sam broke it off, my sister told me not to worry about it because I’d probably find plenty of cute gay girls at college. I had been mixed on whether or not I wanted to find those cute gay girls. I want what I had with Sam back, if not something better, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready to move on yet. I thought I had loved her. I’m still not sure I didn’t, even after her crushing me the way she did. But after I literally fell into Madison’s lap, I felt ready to move on. But if things don’t happen with Madison, am I ready to move on with someone else? Could Shane possibly fill the void left after Sam? She’s not as beautiful as Sam, and definitely nowhere near the same caliber as Madison, but she is really cute. First impression of her conversation skills is seriously uninteresting. But that could just be nerves. It’s not easy just walking up to someone you don’t know and starting a conversation, especially if you are interested in more than just a friendly conversation.

  My professor starts to wrap up class and explaining the week’s assignment. I start furiously writing what he’s saying on my still blank page in my notebook. I had been so distracted thinking about Sam, Madison, Shane, and my confusion that I didn’t take a single note. Damn, today just is not my day for classes.

  After we’re dismissed, I start to stand, but immediately fall back into my seat. Shane is standing right at the edge of my desk, too far into my personal space. She looks down at me with a grin and places a hand on her hip.

  “Do you have another class after this?”

  “No.” Damn it. Why didn’t I lie and say yes? “You want to go t
o the Court with me and get some lunch?” My phone vibrates in my pocket in the weird irregular vibration that I recognize as Madison’s personally selected pattern and I almost say out loud, “Thank god,” but instead, I just say, “Uh, hang on. I was supposed to meet up with my friend and I think this is her.”

  Madison: You made me hungry for pizza. Are you hungry?

  Me: Yes! I need rescuing!

  Madison: Boring girl corner you?

  I laugh and look up at Shane, who is watching me with a look of both disappointment and determination.

  “Sorry, but my friend is waiting. Maybe another time?”

  “Ok, see you around, Kayla.”

  She doesn’t wait for a response before she turns and walks down the row of desks towards the exit.

  Me: Yes… I’ll meet you by the tree?

  Madison: I love that we have a “tree”. Ok, see you soon.

  I smile really big and start making my way to our meetup point. I told Awenasa and Sam about Madison after I had met her a few days ago. I just brought her up in conversation about how my day was going, but both of them asked me more about her and what I thought of her. Sam became pissed and jealous pretty quickly, saying I was talking about her like I was already falling for her. She really became upset when I told her she was from our home state and only lived about twenty minutes away.

 

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