by Bri Stone
“Don’t even worry about it, it’s yours for sure.” She smiled and visibly relaxed.
“How is everything with your dad?” I shook my head and didn’t answer until I was done eating.
“He’s still pushing to get me in the combine. I don’t want to…I’m done with football. But he doesn’t care.” She stared back at me, her blue eyes wide.
“But why? I mean, why won’t he let you go to med school? It isn’t like you want to join the freaking circus.” She laughed humorlessly.
“I don’t know. Honestly my whole life I have just been some kind of tax return for him. Now, I’m an investment. I didn’t even want to play college ball, I did it to make him happy. Thinking he would…I don’t know, hate me less for it.” I furrowed my brow and looked down at the crumbs on the table.
“It’s stupid. Obviously, I was wrong.” I said quietly.
“Hey, Dillon.” She touched my bare arm gingerly, I looked at her. Somehow just looking at her made me relax instantly.
“You are a super smart guy. And you’ll do great in med school, football isn’t who you are. Your father isn’t who you are either.”
I nodded.
“Thanks. You’re the only one who understands.”
She shrugs like it is nothing.
“What kind of doctor do you want to be anyway?” She asked after a while.
“I am…going to be a cardiothoracic surgeon.”
Before you say anything, this isn’t some unrealistic decision. And I didn’t have too many concussions or anything. I’m smarter than people give me credit for, a lot of the time. I’ve always had straight A’s—I earned them. I didn’t buy my way into Harvard, even though I didn’t go because my father forced me to play for Clemson. But premed classes are the same anywhere, pretty much. And I aced those. It’s what I’ve wanted to do since my grandma—my favorite family member mind you, died of congenital heart failure that went undiagnosed. I don’t just want to do surgery, cut all day. I want to improve diagnostic medicine, so people don’t just wake up in the morning and have dead family members.
“So, you can operate on me when I drink so much coffee my arteries burst.” We laughed together.
“For sure.”
We sat in the kitchen pretty much until the sun came up, talking about the rest of her semester and catching up before we went back up to her room, laughing uncontrollably. She passed out as soon as she hit the sheets but I was too worked up.
I looked around her room. It hadn’t changed since she left for college the first time. She had a bunch of pin ups of inspirational quotes. Lori was not a girly-girl at all. Her black and red sheets and color scheme can attest to that. But her room was just like her. It had a lot going on but it made sense, pin ups and book shelves everywhere they could fit.
I turned over and watched her sleep. Sure, maybe it was lame. But damn, she is too beautiful for my own good. I wasn’t sure how long I could keep it to myself. How long I could wait to tell her I was in love with her. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, damn did I want to…I just…I couldn’t lose my best friend.
Three:
When I woke up Lori was gone. And I still felt like shit. Losing a week of sleep will do that, I guess.
I got up, eyes still half closed and looked for my phone. It was after eleven.
I contemplated going back to sleep but I had to take a piss, and the amount of energy it would take to do that with morning wood would keep me awake. Once I got that done, I headed downstairs to find Lori.
When I found her in the kitchen, I couldn’t help but lean on the kitchen wall and just…watch her. I’m a creep, I know. But she looked too stunning to just ignore her. She was standing in front of the stove, there was a window right above it so the sun was shining on her black hair, making it look like liquid asphalt—but, the pretty kind. Never mind.
She was still in those damn shorts too. And that tank top. And…my morning wood was back, except it wasn’t a sub conscious thing—I was just hard. I cleared my throat and announced myself before I had to leave.
“Morning.”
“Oh, you’re up! I’m making your favorite; potato hash.”
I groaned and clutched my chest like I heard the best news. It was my absolute favorite.
“Thanks.” I grinned.
I started a pot of coffee. I would need at least five cups to keep from passing out.
“Where is everyone?” I asked her.
“Dad went to work…are you drinking coffee or sugar?” She gestured to the sugar I was pouring into my cup.
“Both.”
She shook her head and searched through the fridge, bending over to give me a view of her under-butt. I groaned internally. I had to get my head out of the gutter.
“And my sister and Ryan are at their hotel.” She added.
I finished my first cup and felt ten percent better. I made another one. Lori finished quickly and we ate together.
“Any plans for today, Miss college grad?” I asked her. She shrugged and licked her lips. Her soft, full lips.
“I don’t think so. I have to blog and then I guess I’ll just wait for my email from The Citadel.”
I furrowed my brow.
“The publishing company with the internship.” She explained.
“That’s lame. I’m taking you out to celebrate.”
She shook her head. “I told you, I have to blog.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Lori, your blog will take like two hours. I’m taking you out—end of discussion.”
She huffed.
Lori shagged our plates and did the dishes. I had a third cup of coffee.
“And where are we going to go? There’s only so much you can do in Florence.”
I thought for a minute. Lori wasn’t the party type at all so I racked my brain for the best options.
“J. Michael’s.”
She cocked a brow in disapproval. Should have seen that coming.
“You mean the place where you used to pick up girls.”
I grinned sheepishly but she wasn’t amused.
Lori wasn’t the jealous type at all, so don’t think that. She never approved or disapproved of my man-whorish ways either. She was just…an extreme realist. Always thought I’d get some life-ending STD or worse, HIV. She even blogged about it. ‘When your best friend is a man-whore.’ Got hundreds of hits.
“Sure. You still want to go?”
She tossed the dish rag to the side and nodded. “Yeah. I’m going to write.” She smiled a bit and then ran up the steps.
Soon as she was gone I groaned deep and rubbed my face in my hands. I was so tired. I thought going for a run would help.
“Lori? I’m coming in so I hope you’re decent.” I knocked on her door.
“Come in.”
When I entered she was hunched over her laptop at her desk. She had tied her hair up with a chopstick, her hands flew across the key board at record speed.
“How’s it going?”
“Fine. I have notes already so I’m going off of them.”
“What are you blogging about this week?” I asked as I got dressed.
“Um…don’t laugh.” I laughed when she said that.
“Why?”
She stopped typing and spun in her chair to face me. I hadn’t put my shirt on yet, but she didn’t even look. Just another thing that discouraged me.
“The topic is new beginnings. You know, graduating, finding a job. Being a ‘real adult.’” She quoted me.
“Why did you think I would laugh?” I threw on a t-shirt and started lacing up my sneakers.
“I don’t know. I thought it was corny.” I sat on her bed, a few feet from her.
I memorized her face years ago, as we both grew up and she…filled out in places. But even now, sometimes I just stare. My eyes glance across the few freckles on her nose and the few under her eyes. I only saw them when she wasn’t wearing makeup. It was cliché but without makeup, she was just as beautiful, if
not more so.
“Dillon?”
I realized I had been staring. “Oh. Sorry. No, it isn’t corny. I’m going for a run but I’ll read it after.”
She nodded and got back to writing.
I always read her posts before they went live. Even at school, she would email it to me. It didn’t matter what I was doing, when I got that email I dropped what I was doing and read it. Always giving my honest input but I honestly always loved them. I’m not the English major but it made me the best impartial reader.
“Hey, when are you going to see your dad?” Her words stopped me in the doorway.
“Honestly, I don’t want to see him. But…I guess Christmas day. Maybe.” I left before she could talk me out of it.
I plugged my ears with the latest Yelawolf album and ran until my lungs burned. Then kept going. It calmed me, a good run. Coach had us lifting and sprinting more than anything else so I liked keeping it simple sometimes. I ran past my parents’ house and kept going, same thing on the way back. No one noticed.
Once I got back to Lori’s I downed a bunch of water. My heart felt like it would explode but that was probably just the coffee. I went upstairs to finish. Sure, I could have done my push-ups downstairs but what fun would that be?
“You were gone for almost an hour.” She hadn’t looked up from her computer.
“Yeah…ten miles will do that.”
She had a lot of free space in her room, she would usually do yoga here but I had to physically leave when she started that. I dropped down and started knocking out some push-ups.
“Dillon…you’re grunting.” She muttered. I chuckled but ignored her. I was almost finished.
“Sorry.” I huffed on my last push.
I moved and sat on the floor, my legs stretched out in front of me. She swung in her chair and held up her laptop.
“Okay, I’m…” I had to smile inside. Her eyes glinted across my bare chest. Oh yeah, I took my shirt off for good measure. I deftly noticed her eyes linger below my waist but I didn’t think too much of it.
“Finished.” She finally said. She cleared her throat and handed me her laptop. Her chest rose as she took a deep breath. That damn tank top. I adjusted my position on the floor so I wouldn’t strain against my sweats.
“Cool.”
“Hey, you want water? I’m going to get you some water.” She rushed out of the room before I could stop her.
So that’s the trick, huh? I have to get hot and sweaty to get a rise out of her. I know what you’re thinking, this asshole is seducing his best friend against her will. Yet I couldn’t help it. I stopped thinking of myself and read her blog. And man, it was good.
Ah, I breathe a sigh of relief. It feels like just yesterday, I began my first semester of college; now, I am done. What? Really? Yes, I have to remind myself. That last hurdle, final exams, are over. Unfortunately, it only gets harder from here…
I thought getting a degree would make everything easier. I thought I would have job offers rolling out in front of me, complete with a red carpet, but that didn’t happen. It wasn’t because I wasn’t smart enough—my 4.0 GPA can attest to that, it was simply because I wasn’t the only one who wanted that editor’s assistant job, or the open copy writer position.
I think what we forget, in college, is that we will always be competing in this life. We are in a bubble in college; all we worry about is that next midterm, and that final, and that damned ten-page essay. Now, ha! Now, we worry about next month’s rent, the car note, the student loans…the damn student loans. And everyone asking you, ‘what’s next?’ See, I was ready to graduate on paper. But in my head, I was still a lost freshman.
I walked across the stage just yesterday and it feels like I’ve forgotten it already. Like it didn’t really happen. When my sister and I were packing up my dorm room, she reminded me of when I first got there. When I was excited and scared…funny because I felt the same way when I graduated. The beginning is the same as the end—that’s what graduating is really like.
So, for those asking, I’ll tell you what’s next. Happiness, no matter what—because life is short. Hope, because if you can get through college, you can’t give up now.
This is Cheesecake, signing out.
-“College is fun as long as you don’t die.” -Tsugumi Ohba
I might have cried. No, it was sweat.
“This is awesome—it’s always awesome.”
She grinned like I didn’t tell her that almost every time.
It wasn’t like she sought validation, but every compliment was important to her. She took them all to heart—the good and bad ones. And some of the assholes that commented on her blog had some pretty shitty things to say.
“Thank you.” She grabbed her laptop from me. Clicked a few things and then sighed as she let her hair down. Damn, that was a pretty sight.
“I can’t believe you still sign out as Cheesecake.” I grinned.
She shrugged and looked off as if remembering the memory. She started the blog just before we left for college. I sat right in this room as she wrote her very first post. So, she is amid writing when she decides a shower will help. So, I wait patiently on the bed and she comes out—clothed, mind you, and gets back to writing.
I lean in close to her and I catch a whiff of something sweet. I tell her she smells different, not a bad different, though. She shrugs and keeps writing. I think about it for a minute then I start laughing. She looks all confused, like ‘what?’ I say ‘Lori, you smell like cheesecake.’ She starts laughing and says it’s just her new shampoo. I’ve been calling her cheesecake ever since. For good measure, she put ‘this is cheesecake signing out’ and has been doing it since then.
“It stuck.” She giggled.
I sat there just watching her on her laptop. I didn’t know what she was doing, but I liked looking at her. Her fleshy legs curled up under her. Lori was never thin like most girls, and most that I’ve had sex with. She was petite, I mean really, small. Five feet and one inch at most, I can see the top of her head easily, remember? And I swear half her weight is in her hips and her boobs—not even being a dick. I mean, you could grab onto those hips and move them anywhere you want them. The perfect little pear shape.
“It wasn’t too short, right? I mean, they’re usually longer.” She asked.
“No, it was fine.”
I stretched out and groaned. My muscles were tight but I felt good, better.
“I’m about to shower.” I stood up.
“Toss your clothes in my bin, I was about to do some laundry.”
I grinned.
“You want to wash my dirty underwear?” I teased her. She rolled her eyes and groaned.
I stepped in to the bathroom, stripped out of my clothes and wrapped myself up in a towel so I wouldn’t flash her again. She wasn’t in the room when I put them in her hamper. My dumb ass looked too closely and glanced at a pair of red, lace panties in her hamper. Since when does she wear red lace? I shook the thought from my head and got in the shower.
I need to buy my own shampoo if I’m going to be here for a while, her coconut scent is going to stick. At least it isn’t cheesecake. I laughed to myself. I tried, I promise I really tried but I couldn’t get the image of Lori out of my head.
All of them.
Her in the pink dress yesterday, then the short shorts and tight tank top this morning. And…my hard on was back. I tried thinking of my coach, tried thinking of the entire D-line but it didn’t work. She just pushed her way back into my head. I relaxed under the hot water and gripped my throbbing cock, stroking myself, thinking—wishing it was Lori. I imagined her soft hand on me, innocent and not knowing what to do, her big blue eyes staring up at me. I pictured myself kissing those perfect lips of hers, sucking on that pouting bottom lip as I guided her over me. Everything started to tighten, and I knew I was close. Groaning, I changed up the image, with her mouth on me instead. Warm and cautious. I would put my hands in her soft tresses and push her farther, lettin
g the warmth of her mouth surround me. I kept going, until I was panting, gasping for air until my release took me fast.
“Shit.” It felt like freshman year in high school all over again. I shook my head, rinsed off again and got out.
I wrapped my towel around my waist and looked through her cabinets for some hair gel, or anything that could keep my hair reasonable. The medicine cabinet had nothing, but as I was looking around I knocked something out of the shelf. I was going to mind my own business and put it back, but I had seen the same array of pills before, Yaz was probably the front runner for birth control these days. A plethora of questions ran through my head but I stopped them before it drove me crazy.
I went back in her room, she wasn’t there so I went ahead and got dressed. The only thing that would get me to go home would be to get more clothes. The jeans and brown sweater I put on were all I packed. Honestly, I’d rather just buy more clothes than go anywhere near that house again.
“I figured you were hungry so I made BLT’s.” Lori announced herself, still donning her tank and shorts.
“I’m starved. Thanks.” I thought about asking her about the pills. But was that invading her privacy?
I went downstairs in search for this BLT. Sure enough, she made it just how I liked it. More bacon than anything else. I grabbed a water bottle and ate like a caveman. I heard her in the laundry room so I met her in there.
“That was good. Thanks.”
She smiled sweetly and kept sorting clothes by color.
“You sort your clothes?” She scowled at me. She shrugged and kept sorting.
“Yeah, Dillon. I don’t want my shirts turning red or something.”
“Like your panties?” I had to, I’m sorry.
She looked up at me, her blue eyes wide. Her cheeks flushed and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about. I mean, they’re a little fancy.”
“They were on sale.” She murmured.
“Hey, I have a question.” After a while, I bit the bullet. I sat on the table behind her. Bad choice, she was bent over.