Sweatpants Season

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Sweatpants Season Page 5

by Danielle Allen


  “You walked off…” He pointed out as he fell into step with me.

  “Well, I needed to find my subject. You seemed preoccupied with yours and I didn’t know how long it was going to take.” I had more bite in my voice than I intended, so I tried to soften my statement. “We’re down to the last ten minutes or less, and we still have to upload and choose the best photos to submit.”

  “I spent more time waiting for you than I did with Ava.”

  It took everything not to roll my eyes. Ava.

  “Did you get your shot?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I thought it was going to be difficult to convince people to participate.” He opened the door to the building, gesturing for me to go before him. “But looks like after they see the Romano name on the paper, it’s easy.”

  “Did you say she was easy?” I asked, knowing it was in fact not what he said.

  Carlos smirked knowingly. “I said it was easy to convince someone to be photographed.”

  “Oh okay.” I looked away, a little irritated that he could see through my statement so quickly. “She was obviously interested. I had to walk away when she presented herself to you. Our society conditions women to instinctively present themselves as sexual objects to men.”

  “She didn’t present herself as an object,” Carlos pointed out as we approached the classroom. “She offered herself as an object. There’s a difference.”

  “What?” I scoffed, secretly loving that he challenged me.

  “There’s a difference,” he repeated as we walked into the classroom. “It’s in the intent. You can be attracted to someone and want them to be attracted to you so you present yourself as desirable. You can be attracted to someone and want them sexually so you offer yourself to them in hopes of being desired.” He winked at me. “I minored in Women’s Studies, too.”

  I couldn’t help that my lips turned up slightly. “My point is that she’s beautiful—all women are physically, uniquely beautiful—so if she wanted you because she wanted you, cool. But I hope she didn’t offer herself up to you because she thought she had to—” I stopped in my tracks. “Dammit!” I swore under my breath as I saw that almost everyone was back in the room.

  “Come on. We still have time,” Carlos assured me, placing a hand on my elbow as we rushed to the other side of the room.

  “This one is free!” I spotted a student getting up from one of the computers and claimed it for us.

  We quickly uploaded our photos onto the computer, dropping it in the Beautiful Woman Assignment folder. As we returned to our seats, I smiled.

  “What are you smiling about?” Carlos asked.

  “We just submitted our first assignment for this class. We submitted photos for Luca Romano to critique.” My smile grew. “Life is good.”

  He stared at me. “It is.”

  I exhaled. “What’s up with you? You keep giving me these looks and if we’re going to be partners for the duration of this class, we need to make sure we’re on the same page.”

  His eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not going to let a man distract me from my goals.”

  “Who is trying to distract you?” He lifted his hands in surrender. “I was looking at you while you were talking.”

  “And you kept finding reasons to touch me…”

  “Do you mean when I kept you from falling on your face or when I kept you from being hit by Ava’s skateboard?”

  Rolling my eyes to mask the uncertainty I was starting to feel. “Well, you also called me beautiful.”

  “You are.”

  He was so matter-of-fact about it that my lips snapped shut. I was quiet and so was he.

  We just stared at each other as the seconds ticked by.

  I cleared my throat. “Don’t tell me you don’t feel like there’s a thing happening here.”

  “No, I feel something between us, but you’re the one making a big deal about it. You must’ve been thinking long and hard about it. Must’ve been on your mind the entire class.” He paused before winking at me. “But I don’t mix business with pleasure.”

  “Don’t do that.” I shook my head and kept a straight face. “Don’t wink at me again. Unless you have something in your eye or you’re blinking, don’t even close your eyes rapidly around me.”

  We both laughed heartily as Luca began class.

  “Okay, now that everything has been submitted, you have made your introductions with your work. Let’s talk about beauty.” He flipped a switch, and the projection screen eased down. With a few clicks of a remote, a picture of a woman flooded the screen. She was older—with wrinkles and crow’s feet. Her hair was a mixture of black and grey strands that framed her round face. There was a sparkle in her eyes that drew the focus.

  “Look at the eyes,” the photography legend directed. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Beauty is in the eye of the photographer. And lastly, beauty is in the eye of the subject.”

  Nodding, I jotted that down in my notebook. Sneaking a quick glance at Carlos, I saw that he was also writing down the quote. There was something so sexy about his personality. My lips turned upward into a smile slightly before I looked away and continued taking notes.

  For the next forty-five minutes, Luca explored the idea of beauty and how we limit it through our own filters and through societal definitions. He showed us various photos he’d taken of beautiful women and then he showed us the photos we had taken. Without disclosing whose photo was whose, he offered praise and a suggestion for improvement.

  Turning the projector off, Luca walked around to the front of his desk and sat. “Now we’ll conclude class with formal introductions.” He looked around the room and smiled. “Everyone had to write an essay explaining why they wanted to be here. Of those submitted essays, a lottery was conducted to choose who would be offered a seat.” He paused dramatically. “And here you are.” He opened his arms widely. “You randomly sat beside your classmate who is now your partner for the duration of this workshop. But as we will find over the course of the semester: nothing is random.”

  I could feel Carlos’s gaze on me, but I kept my eyes forward. Biting the inside of my cheek, I kept myself from smiling. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do about the butterflies in my stomach.

  “Your partner is the person that will push you to be better,” Luca continued. “Look at your neighbor… part of your grade will be influenced by this person.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “So, let’s find out who you are.”

  He began the introductions on the other side of the room. As people introduced themselves, I discreetly pulled Serena’s card out of my bag without disrupting Luca engaging with students during their introductions. Once I had it in front of me position where Luca couldn’t miss it, I leaned back in my seat with a satisfied smile.

  “What are you doing?” Carlos whispered.

  “Minding my business,” I retorted, pursing my lips with sass.

  He smiled. “Oh, I thought maybe you were thinking about how there’s something here.” He gestured between us.

  “It was…until you winked,” I murmured under my breath, trying not to get caught talking. “Now you’ve lost all your allure.”

  “You’re not a good liar.”

  I grinned at him. “We have a connection and I brought it up because I think it’ll help us work well as a team for this course. But I wasn’t saying it like I was trying to date you.”

  “I wasn’t either.”

  “You’re not a good liar.”

  He smirked but said nothing.

  The connection between us was undeniable and the energy we exchanged was electric.

  “Last, but not least…” Luca called out, interrupting the moment and breaking the trance I was in.

  I tore my eyes from Carlos to find our teacher glowering in our direction.

  “Tell us your name, your occupation, and why you’re here,” he directed, folding his arms across his chest.

&nbs
p; Damn! I cursed internally as I rose to my feet. Now he’s going to think I’m some kind of rude, disruptive slacker. Maybe I can redeem myself…

  “Hi, my name is Akila. I’m a freelance writer. I’m a fan of your work and a fan of photography so being here is an honor. My hope is that I can capture the essence of what I write and tell a story with my photos. And I can only learn that from a legend.”

  “Very nice, Akila.” Luca’s eyes lit up as he flashed me a pearly white smile. “Very nice, indeed. I’ve read an article of yours, and it’s excellent. I look forward to seeing that passion in your photography.”

  My cheeks heated under his approving words.

  Carlos cleared his throat. “I’m Los. Right now, I teach high school English—ninth grade. But I’m working on my first book of essays and building my online brand. I’m going to be posting original content, including pictures, and I’m here because if I’m going to put out the best, I need to learn from the best.”

  Luca nodded. “Good, good.” He paused. “I’ve listened to your podcast. Very entertaining.”

  “I love podcasts! What’s the name of it?” The man sitting next to Jennifer called out from across the room. Everyone’s interest seemed piqued.

  Luca gestured to Carlos to respond.

  He ran his hand over his beard. “I co-host a show called Date Night.”

  “What?” I gasped horrified. My stomach plummeted.

  Carlos gave me a weird look before he told the class where to follow The Lost Boys on social media and how they raise money for some cause.

  I couldn’t hear him clearly over the sound of my mind being blown.

  “Are you kidding me?” I hissed under my breath as soon as the photography powerhouse moved on to conclude the class.

  “What?” Carlos appeared completely oblivious.

  “I just…” I shook my head, glancing at Luca to make sure we weren’t being overhead. “I guess I had you all wrong.”

  “What are you talking about?” Carlos asked, just as chairs started scraping against the floor and students started packing to leave.

  “I have to go.” Standing, I grabbed all my belongings. “I have to go.”

  He didn’t say a word.

  Chapter Four

  The long bubble bath, calming candles, and soothing music didn’t clear my mind of Carlos Richmond. So, when my best friend came home, I told her everything. The conversation resulted in us sitting in stunned silence on the couch.

  “He was perfect…” I murmured with a shake of my head. “He was perfect for me. Or so I thought.”

  Another three minutes of silence descended upon us.

  “Wait a minute… this is him?” Meghan asked as she poured over online photos she found on Carlos’s social media pages.

  I nodded.

  We sat side by side on the couch, but she still dramatically jerked her body forward, turning her head from her phone to me and back to her phone again. “This is your photography partner?!”

  I looked over my best friend’s shoulder and eyed the picture of Carlos that was on the small screen. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a plain white shirt, he was casual yet sexy as hell. Whoever took the picture captured the smile that had turned my insides into mush when I saw it for the first time.

  “Yep. That’s him,” I sighed.

  She let out a sigh of her own. “Wow… He’s sexy.”

  “Yep.”

  “And you two had a crazy connection?”

  “Yep.”

  “And there was definitely a moment?”

  “Yep.”

  “And he’s part of The Lost Boys?”

  “Yep.”

  She cocked her head to the side as a new picture of Carlos speaking in front of a group of students appeared on her screen. “Is he a teacher?”

  “Yep.”

  “So, he’s a sexy, educated, creative, passionate man who gave you butterflies and called you beautiful?”

  Letting myself slump back into the couch cushion, I closed my eyes. “Yes.”

  “Are you sure he’s a Lost Boy?”

  “He’s the one they called Los Cabos.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah.”

  The front door opened, and I barely peeked between my lashes to see my little sister fly into the room. I heard her footsteps stop abruptly.

  “What’s wrong?” Alexandria asked, forcing me to open my eyes all the way.

  My lips parted, but words never passed them. I shook my head in confusion and disbelief. “Everything and nothing at the exact same time.”

  “What?” Her eyes bounced from me to Meghan and back to me again. “So, is anyone going to tell me what’s going on? I’m starting to freak out!”

  “You know how your sister always says she’s waiting to feel that magic with someone,” Meghan started before looking at me to see if I was going to speak.

  I dramatically closed my eyes and let my head drop in shame, so she continued.

  “Well, she felt the magic tonight.”

  “With who?” Alex squealed. “Luca Romano!”

  “Well, that’s another story.” Meghan bumped my shoulder with hers and laughed. “But while there may have been a mutual attraction with Luca, she felt the magic with this guy.”

  “The magic? Oh, damn!”

  I opened my eyes in time to see Alex marveling at the physical godliness and model good looks of Carlos Richmond.

  Meghan nodded. “Damn is right.”

  “The fact that he looks like that was secondary,” I sighed. “What got me was the fact that he had this energy about him. It was peaceful and alluring, strong and comforting, sexy and confident. I was attracted to him even before seeing how attractive he was—does that make sense?”

  “Not really,” Alex mumbled, still clicking through the few photos Meghan had found on the internet. “Because anybody with eyes can see that he is attractive. There’s no way you can look at him and not see that he’s sexy.”

  Meghan nodded. “Amen to that.”

  “So, what’s the problem?” Alex asked. “He didn’t like you back? He has a girlfriend? He’s married? He chews too loud? What could possibly have you acting like this after feeling magic with this man?”

  “He’s a Lost Boy,” I answered, feeling confusion wash over me again.

  It was such a disappointment. The man I met was intelligent, kind, respectful, passionate, and he didn’t openly objectify me or any other woman that I could tell. He was the opposite of everything I’d heard in that podcast.

  “He’s a ‘lost boy’ as in he doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life?” Alex wondered.

  “No, he’s a Lost Boy as in he’s one of the assholes who does that dumb ass weekly podcast giving out dumbass advice to dumbasses around town,” I griped.

  “He’s a Lost Boy? He…” Alex pointed at the screen. “He’s a Lost Boy?”

  “That’s not a boy, that’s a man,” Meghan commented, shaking her head.

  I laughed on the inside, but I was still too stunned to laugh out loud.

  “How did you end up falling for a Lost Boy?” Alex asked as she made her way across the living room and into the kitchen.

  My eyes widened. “I didn’t fall for him,” I said quickly, denying the claim vehemently. “I-I had a mild interest, but clearly, that was a mistake, and the interest subsided.

  “Okay…” Alex turned around and looked at me. “It doesn’t sound like the interest subsided.” She lifted her hands and backed her way toward the refrigerator. “But I just walked in. What do I know?”

  I narrowed my eyes at my little sister. “Exactly. Why are you here?”

  She laughed before taking a sip from the bottle of water she grabbed. “I have a date tomorrow, and I wanted to know if I could borrow something.”

  “Of course—”

  “From Meghan,” she continued.

  Meghan laughed. “What do you need?”

  “That red dress with the cut-outs on the sides.” She
clasped her hands together in prayer. “Pleaseeeee!”

  Meghan took a screen shot of the image on her phone before rising to her feet. “I don’t know, Alex. I love you like you were my own little sister, but that dress is one of a kind.”

  “I know! That’s why I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t a special occasion,” Alex replied, a slight tremble in her voice. “Your style is impeccable, and that dress is such a statement piece. I don’t have anything that has the same wow factor. I met this great guy who has a pretty cool first date planned, and I want to wow him. Please.”

  My sister knew how to lay it on thick. I’d seen the same tactics work on our parents for twenty-one years, so I knew my best friend was going to relent as they made their way down the hall toward her bedroom.

  “Who is this guy and where is he taking you?” Meghan asked before they disappeared from my sight.

  My phone vibrated, and I pulled it from my pocket. When I opened the message from Meghan, Carlos Richmond’s photo filled my screen. Even though my stomach twisted, and my body heated with the memory of the way he touched me and held me close, my head hurt, and my heart sank at the memory of the most recent Lost Boys podcast.

  Pushing myself off the couch, I felt like I was going to be sick.

  “Goodnight!” I yelled as I entered my room, closing the door behind me.

  I heard their muffled response as I climbed in bed.

  A few minutes passed, and my mind was still racing. I was exhausted, but I couldn’t get Carlos out of my head. It didn’t make any sense that someone who was so captivating and appealing to me was somehow also a supporter of misogyny and fuckboy-ish ways.

  “Akila?” Alex called out as she lightly rapped on my door. “Kiki?”

  “It’s open,” I replied, turning on my side as I pulled my sheets up to my chin. “What’s up?”

  Alex cocked her head to the side and stared at me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, just tired.” I eyed the garment bag in her hand. “I see Meghan gave in to your pleas.”

  She smiled. “I love her. She’s the nice big sister. You’re the grump.”

  I let out a short chuckle.

 

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