by Sara Wolf
“I won’t, Charlotte. I’m not an idiot. You know that.”
She breathes a sigh of relief. “I know you’re not an idiot. You’ve got too many math-league medals to be an idiot. You’re just a little naïve sometimes, that’s all.”
I almost get offended, but then I remember how clueless I was at the most basic lesson of hand-holding yesterday. I am naïve. But that only spurs me on to learn more, better, and faster.
I’ve stopped attending Mathers’ class entirely. I can’t bear the sight of him. I’ll show up to the exam, and ace it, considering I’m still studying the book on my own. But I refuse to be in the same room as that man. I use Mathers’ period to text Ranik, instead.
I am currently wearing no panties.
I decided texting Ranik would be a good a time as any to try out sexting like I’d heard Charlotte talk about. I looked it up on Google, and this particular phrase seemed to be a very popular sext. His text comes seconds later.
Who’s this?
It is sensible many girls would text him with a similar phrase, enough so for him to lose track of their names and numbers. I consider putting my real name, but then I recall we’re supposed to be a secret.
Your student. I was trying out sexting. Grade me.
He has very fast thumbs.
hahah are you serious? 0/10 would not sext again btw I’m not teaching you sexting, that shit is pre-pubescent and dumb as hell
Look at you, using hyphenated words. Someone is smarter than they pretend to be.
He doesn’t reply. I resist the temptation to text further and instead study a little more. And then a little more. Finally, after an hour and twenty-two minutes, he texts back.
sorry got caught up with a friend
My thumbs are quicker. I am the last person you should feel the need to apologize to.
man, that perfect grammar is fukin intimidating. Anyway whyd u text?
I’m sorry for being intimidating.
im the last person you should feel the need to apologize 2
He throws my own words back at me, but for some reason it makes me feel warm inside, instead of offended.
I texted because I require lesson two. My roommate is out at classes, and will be for another two hours.
cool. be there in ten
I haven’t told you my room number, though.
He doesn’t answer. The soft knock on my door minutes later has me opening it to his face. He’s dressed in a loose flannel shirt and black jeans, a silver chain around his neck and his tattoos contrasting dark against his skin. He darts in, and I close the door behind him.
“How did you know which room I’m in? I never told you that.” I ask instantly. He’s too busy looking around my room to answer. He takes in the bed, my dresser, my desk.
“I flirted it out of your dorm’s RA yesterday. Whoa,” He marvels. “Ever think over-organizing might make you look like a serial killer?”
“I don’t over-organize. That isn’t even a word.”
“You sorted your bookshelf by the Dewey decimal system, Princess.”
“Many people do that.”
“No one actually does that.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Let’s just get on with it. What’s the next lesson?”
Ranik’s gold-green eyes look me up and down, taking in my jeans and t-shirt. “Can you change into somethin’ else?”
“Is there something wrong with this?”
“Not at all, Princess. You just might want somethin’ easier to take off and put back on, like a skirt.”
I quirk a brow. “Why?”
He smirks, hooking his hands in his pockets. “Because we’re gonna go shopping.”
I change into a modest black pencil skirt as he retreats to his car in the parking lot. Being seen walking together would raise suspicions, so I wait a few minutes, and then walk out to his car. I spot it on the curb, and jump in. He guns the ignition.
“May I inquire where you’re spiriting me off to?”
“I told ya. Shoppin’.”
“That’s so wonderfully specific of you.”
He laughs. “Yanno, sarcasm isn’t all that big with guys like Theo. They think it’s a jab at their egos. Guys like me, yeah. It’s a helluva bonus for a girl to have some spunk in her. Uh. Not the sex kind. Or maybe the sex kind. Shit. I dug this hole real deep.”
“I’d throw you a rope, but you’d probably be better off hanging yourself with it.”
“Ouch. You’re brutal.”
“Is that a bad thing? Should I…should I tone that down?”
“Yeah. Theo probably wouldn’t like it. But, shit, when you’re with me, don’t bother. Kinda like it.”
“Like it?” I quirk a brow. “No one has ever liked it.”
“Well call me crazy - I do. It’s refreshin’. No sugar-coating, no pretty lies, no pretending to be nice to people you hate. It’s lots different from most girls.” Ranik chuckles and turns the radio on, blasting rock. His eyes flit to me. “Bother you?”
“No. I find hideous cacophonies relaxing.”
“Coffins? Tone it down a notch, Princess, getting into your weird fetishes is lesson ten at least.”
I roll my eyes and roll the window down at the same time. His Toyota is ancient, but the inside is neat and clean, and it drives smoother than butter. I was expecting him to have a motorcycle, or something equally immature and life-threatening. We finally pull into a downtown parking lot, and he jumps out.
“C’mon, haul your Princessy ass out of there and let’s go.”
I groan and get out slowly. The fancy shop in front of us has gold-plated doors and white walls. He opens the door for me, the smell of perfume and constant air-conditioning almost nauseating.
“I feel now would be a good time to mention I hate shopping,” I say, looking at a row of high-heeled shoes and flinching at how painful they look. “And I look very bad in girlish styles of clothing.”
“What?” Ranik wrinkles his nose. “Who told you that crazy nonsense?”
My mother.
I shrug instead. “Someone.”
“Well, that’s crap, okay? With your figure, you could wear anything you wanted to and pull it off.”
I quirk a brow. He coughs.
“Uh. Not off, as in stripping, but uh, just. Wow. S’weird.” He massages his neck, embarrassed. “Something’s got me all fucked up, tongue-wise. And I ain’t never fucked up that way, ever.”
“Perhaps you’re having a minor stroke? May I suggest a brain scan?”
He snorts. “Look, we’re just here for a few things. Only take a sec, and you don’t gotta pay, so try to enjoy it, okay?”
“What? Why am I not paying? I’m going to pay for my own –”
“Ranik!” A busty sales associate taps over in her black high heels and a tiny blouse. “It’s sooooo nice to see you again.”
“You too, Holly,” He smirks.
“I can only assume you’ve had intercourse,” I say. Holly turns four shades of pink, and Ranik nudges me in the ribs, hard, before nervously laughing.
“This lovely and tactful young lady here is Alice, my, uh, cousin, and she’s looking for a starter kit. Nothing too fancy, but no granny-pants, either.”
Holly muses, looking me up and down, and then claps her hands. “I know just the thing.”
She leads us to a table in the back, where socks, bras, and panties are stacked artfully and with careful preparation. Ranik motions to the panties.
“Take your pick, Princess.”
He then turns to Holly and they mindlessly jabber. My fingers flit over the underwear – soft silk, high quality cottons, not too skimpy but not as large as my current underwear. I avoid the g-strings and thongs and find a pair that looks like the striped one Ranik showed me, except these stripes are pink, and the ribbon is much larger. I choke on the price tag and immediately throw it back on the pile.
“Find something you like?” Ranik comes back to me.
“There is no w
ay in Dante’s seven hells I’m paying this much for underwear.”
“I already told you, you ain’t paying. So pick a few and don’t worry about it.”
“I refuse to let you pay. This is ridiculous. With that money you could buy yourself a month’s worth of rent. It’s a pure waste.”
“Princess,” Ranik growls. “C’mon. We have an agreement. You listen to me, you do the lessons, you get your golden boy Theo. This is lesson two – panties and learning to let dudes do nice things for you.”
“When a male does nice things for a girl, he expects repayment,” I say instantly. “Usually in the form of sexual contact. It indebts me to them. I abhor the feeling of being indebted to anyone.”
“Jesus,” He sucks in a breath. “What kind of shit did you go through to have this sorta view on dudes?”
“The usual shit that every girl faces in her life,” I snarl. “Which you would know, if you stopped to consider the entire world doesn’t revolve around you.”
“Okay, okay,” He holds up his hands in surrender. “Christ, Prickly Princess, I get it. You don’t want me spending money on you. Fine. I understand. Just wait here, then.”
I pick through the pile, admiring a rose-colored pair. Instead of fabric, ribbons are on either side, and untying them causes the panties to come loose. It’s so foreign and fascinating, it sends a thrill of excitement through me. How pathetic am I, in truth? Getting excited by strange panties? Any normal girl would see these and say ‘oh sure, they’re cute’, and feel nothing more. I’m really, truly, shamefully naïve.
Ranik comes back, sauntering down the aisle. “Okay,” he says. “Pick four.”
“I told you already, I’m not –”
“They’re free. Pick four.”
“Free? What are you talking about –”
His fingers grab the rose-colored panties I’d been admiring. “These are cute. C’mon, three more.”
“Ranik –”
“If you don’t choose another in the next five seconds, Princess, I’ll choose for you.”
My eyes scrabble over the pile. What did he do to get these for free? I choose the cheapest white pair, but he vetoes it, throwing it back on the pile instantly and grabbing a green pair with black pawprints on the posterior.
“Those are childish!” I protest. He shrugs.
“You took too long. Five, four, three, two –”
I snatch a blue polka-dot pair. He nods in agreement.
“One more. Five, four -”
The last is black, with white lace and a white ribbon on the front. Ranik quirks a brow appreciatively, and pats my head like I’m seven.
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Let’s bounce.”
“But – but we have to pay –”
“Bye Holly,” Ranik winks at her. Holly, all smiles, blows a kiss. I stumble after him into the car.
“I’ll have you know that was shoplifting, and it is illegal. We are now criminals under federal law.”
“Keep your panties in your lap. Literally.” He eyes the four pairs in my lap. “I just cashed a favor in with a friend, that’s all.”
“But –”
“Lesson two, passed!” He yells and starts the car, pulling away. It hits me only as we’re driving back onto campus.
“You – you traded sex for my underwear!”
He smirks and taps out a cigarette, blowing smoke out of the open window. “You didn’t want me to pay for them, right? Had to get ‘em somehow.”
“So now you’re going to –”
“Fuck Holly later tonight, yeah.”
“And she…she pays you for that?”
“I know how to treat a girl good enough she’s willin’ to pay,” His smirk grows. “Just consider it a sign you’ve chosen the best teacher in the goddamn world.”
I look down at the underwear, suddenly not wanting them anymore.
“Hey, whoa,” Ranik parks and looks over at me. “What’s wrong?”
“When I think of sex, I see it as important, and intimidating. It’s a huge mountain to scale, something I know little about but treat with careful respect. You think of it like nothing. You just…you just use it when it’s convenient for you. Like a throwaway tool. Like a toy. Is it ever…has it ever been about love for you? At all?”
There’s a beat, and then he shrugs.
“Nah. Shit like that ain’t meant for guys like me.”
“That sounds lonely,” I say softly. “You sound so lonely.”
There’s a quiet until we pull into the campus parking lot, and then we get out. Ranik’s green-gold eyes are soft, tired, like he’s weary beyond imagination, and then he sputters a laugh, putting his cigarette out under his boot. His eyes harden again, sparking with that usual healthy dose of mirth.
“Don’t waste your pity on me, Princess. You got lots of better things to be thinkin’ about, yeah? Like school, and this Theo boy. Keep yourself focused. That’s what you do best, right?”
“But –”
“No buts. Try those panties on tonight. Tell me which one you like best. That’s your homework.”
I watch him walk away with a strange sinking in my chest.
Who is Ranik Mason, really?
These are the sort of dangerous questions one simply doesn’t ask at Mountford University. But I ask Charlotte anyway over dinner – pizza in our pajamas – and she frowns.
“He’s a Junior. Duh.”
“I know that, but what else? What else do you know about him?”
She shrugs. “The frats and sororities pay him to bring alcohol for the underage pledges. He shows up at every party with his friends and they’ve got trucks to move the kegs. Sometimes the sororities want coke, or weed, mostly weed, and they call him and some dealer always shows up at the house fifteen minutes later. He’s actually pretty reliable.”
“Where’s he from?”
“Kentucky, I think. Mississippi? Somewhere south. You’d have to ask, like, his group. But seriously, Al, he’s not the sort of guy you want to be asking after. People might get the wrong idea.”
“Is there a right idea?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she points a slice at me, the cheese drooping lifelessly. “It’s called staying the hell away from him. What happened to Theo, hm?”
My stomach sinks. “He’s been…busy lately.”
“With Grace Thomas, yeah. Gosh, she’s so weird.”
Anger flares up in me. “I think she’s amazing.”
Charlotte looks thoroughly embarrassed. “Oh. I just thought, since she’s trying to bag Theo, that you’d –”
“Appreciate you insulting her? No. I happen to think she’s a wonderful person. I am, in fact, trying to become more like her. More open. And cheerful.”
Charlotte pokes at my scowl. “Good job so far, nerd.”
I stuff pizza in my mouth and Charlotte leaves for the library to do homework. I settle down at my desk to do the same – eyeing Ranik’s fifteen-page psychology essay due next week. His major is psychology, and from all the extra classes he’s having me do work for, I can tell he’s aiming for pediatric psychology specifically. Which is a surprise, considering he looks more like a convict than a child shrink.
I complete his work, checking and double checking my facts and citations. Satisfied it’s both flawless and disguised as something Ranik could feasibly do, I move on to my own assignments. My phone vibrates halfway through my Calc three work.
c’mon princess, which undies do u like best
I roll my eyes and text back.
If I didn’t know better, I’d almost say you were a random pervert texting me in the middle of the night.
gasp! im offended. im your teacher, not some pervert. oh wait, your teacher is a pervert.
Mathers. I flinch. Ranik texts quickly.
Speaking of which, I heard u aint been going to mathers anymore. Good. you’re wiser than I gave u credit for
Wise? I scoff. I’m plenty wise.
haha nah youre smart
wise is something different. i’m wise, but I aint smart you dig?
No, I don’t dig at all. You are bizarre and you have horrible grammar and your definitions are vague and confusing.
u know what aint confusing tho, u telling me which panties u like best. lets hear it
I screw my face up and remind myself sharing this private and slightly lewd information with the campus playboy is for Theo.
The rose-colored ones. With the ties on the side.
hah! knew it
Knew what?
even if ur a late-bloomer, u got good taste. now pop quiz; which one do u think Theo will like best?
I get up and rifle through the bag. The polka dots, maybe? I try to think of Grace, what type of underwear she might wear. Something fun and bright.
The pawprint ones. I answer.
bzzzzt, wrong
Wrong? I know Theo would like them. I am sure of it!
oh ur right tho. The pawprint is sorta immature and cute he’d dig it like hell
Then why did you say I was wrong?
the correct answer for any girl lookin for a healthy relationship would be: his favorite panties are my favorite panties.
Why?
because dudes who get off on their girl bein happy are good dudes who deserve you
I’m quiet, staring at the text as another one comes in.
but ur all gung ho about pleasing this guy so youd probably just pretend the pawprint was your favorite even tho you hate them
Isn’t that what relationships are about? Compromise?
hah. dunno never been in one. i sure as shit hope not that sounds boring as hell
I feel my face heat out of anger. I’ve read many books on relationships by the world’s leading anthropology experts. Compromise is a sign of a mature love. It’s telling that a vital aspect of mature relationships sounds boring to you.
princess, I dunno shit. u and theo are the ones who’re gonna go off and have a mature relationship or whatever im just here 2 teach u the dirty bits. word of advice; if u wanna really learn, like from real life, lay off the fuckin books. this is one area of life that cant be studied from a textbook
Anything can be learned from a textbook.