The Boyfriend Diaries: A Romance Box Set Collection

by S. E. Law

  “Sorry to hear that, kiddo. I know it’s hard for you to leave your son every time you come to campus, but he’s going to be fine, Aria. You love your babysitter.”

  I nod bravely.

  “I do. Haley is great, and she’s insanely talented when it comes to children. Tommy’s in good hands.”

  Elisa nods happily and hooks her arm through mine.

  “So you ready for Comp Lit 101 then? We’ll be discussing the role of erotica in modern literature in today’s lecture.”

  I choke down a laugh because sometimes it feels like I’ve never been away. Elisa is still the same as always. She’s a flighty co-ed who continues to read only the first few chapters of each book. She goes out constantly, and has a different boyfriend every month, if not every week.

  But of course, everything’s different. For one, Elisa and I are no longer roommates. I moved into off-campus housing provided by the school for student parents, while Elisa’s still staying in the cramped dorms.

  More importantly, my life has done a one-eighty. Even though I’m finishing my English major, my perspective has changed altogether. I’m a mom now, and I have a son whom I adore. Life’s not about parties, studying, and boys anymore. It’s about my child, and making sure he has a wonderful future.

  Still, I think of Roland sometimes. Does he ever think about me? He’s so handsome that I’m sure he found another girlfriend within a week of my disappearance. Plus, I heard he made it out of the investigation in one piece, and that his reputation has been restored to its former glory. Good. I’m happy for him, even if I can’t tell him that in person.

  “So are you ready for midterms?” Elisa asks carelessly.

  “No,” I say in a wry voice. “Definitely not.”

  “Oh well,” she says with a wink. “I know you’ll pull it out anyways, Aria. You always land on your feet,” she adds as we stroll to class arm in arm.

  But then I stop and turn towards her.

  “But that’s not true, Lissie. I mean, look at me. I’m an unwed mother, with a fatherless son, who’s only surviving because of the generosity of my parents. They pay for everything you know, from my housing, to the babysitter, to all of Tommy’s food and clothes.”

  Elisa nods, her expression thoughtful.

  “I know, but they were doing that anyways before you got pregnant right? So they’re just continuing what they’ve always done.”

  “Yes, that’s true,” I say with a sad smile. “But I’m not some model citizen, Elisa. I didn’t land on my feet, not this time. I’m an unwed mother, for crying out loud! I’m what mothers warn their daughters not to become.”

  But Elisa doesn’t look fazed.

  “I know you feel like the world’s totally out of control, and that you’re out of control too, but it’s not like that, Aria. You’re fine. Your baby is fine. This is all going to recede into the past. By the way, did you ever tell the father about Tommy?” she says, wrinkling her brow at me. “I know you wanted to keep it a secret, but don’t you think the dad has a right to know?”

  I take a deep breath.

  “I know I’ve never revealed the identity of my baby’s dad, but I promise, it’s for good cause. He’s a man that I fell in love with, and there are a lot of reasons why I never told him about his child.”

  Lissie looks thoughtful for a moment.

  “It’s not because he’s married, right?”

  I shake my head vehemently.

  “No, he’s definitely not married. At least, back then he wasn’t. But after I withdrew from school, I lost touch with him so maybe he’s married now. I don’t know.”

  The words pierce me to my heart because what if Roland’s married now? What if he has a bright shiny wife on his arm, who’s dazzling and beautiful and amazing? I’d feel like such an ugly troll by comparison, with my baby weight saddling my hips while wearing frumpy, shapeless pregnancy clothes. She’d be a supernova while I’m a faded, dull grey rock by comparison.

  But I force myself to hold my chin up high. I don’t know that Roland has a girlfriend or wife. This is purely conjecture on my part, so I make myself swallow the painful lump in my throat. Even if he does have a partner, it’s not my business anymore. I moved on, he moved on, and we have our separate lives now.

  Elisa interrupts my thoughts.

  “Oh and by the way, there’s a departmental party tonight,” she says in a careless voice. “Do you want to come? It’s going to be fun, and everyone’s going to be there.”

  I shake my head as we enter the classroom.

  “No, I need to take care of Tommy, and study for midterms too. I’m way behind as it is.”

  Elisa wheedles as we sit down in the third row from the back.

  “Come on, Aria. It’s a departmental party. It’s not like this is going to be some crazy rave with black lights and people dropping acid. This is the English Department’s annual Christmas party, where ancient professors stand around drinking wine and eating cheese and crackers. It’s nothing. Plus, I bet your babysitter can stay a little longer. It’s right after class, so why don’t you text her now and see? The party’s only going to last an hour at most.”

  I shoot her a wry look.

  “Is it the one that’s going to be held in Evans Hall?” I ask. “The one where they always play canned Christmas music and where Professor Lewis dresses up like Santa?”

  “Exactly,” says Lissie with satisfaction. “It’s safe, Aria. You don’t even need to wear holiday clothes. It’s a professional event more than anything, and besides, don’t you need an adviser for your senior thesis next semester? This is the perfect time to meet one because all the professors are going to be there.”

  All except one, the voice in my mind says. After all, Roland took a leave of absence after the investigation ended. No one blamed him. He’d been through the wringer with the Academic Senate, not to mention the psychological stress and professional pressure he must have been under. I heard that he joined a writer’s colony out in Maine for the year, with the department’s support. Why not? He’d be able to get a lot of work done without the distractions of university life cropping up non-stop.

  As a result, I know that Roland won’t be at the party. It should be a relief, but at the same time, I miss him desperately. Sometimes, I still wake up in the middle of the night, dreaming of his huge bulk above me as those blue eyes sear my curves. I imagine that hard pole claiming me from behind as I scream out in pleasure, my body his to enjoy. I imagine him suckling at my breast before moving down to taste the sweetness between my thighs.

  But those are all fever dreams. After all, Roland’s gone now, and who knows when he’ll be back? I’m set to graduate this year, and after that, I don’t know where I’ll be. I wish I could work up the nerve to tell him about his son, but with the way things are going, he’ll never know about Tommy, and Tommy will never meet his father either. The knowledge makes tears spring to my eyes, and my heart pulses with pain. But then Elisa interrupts again.

  “So text your babysitter, okay? I think Mack Drummell is going to be at the party too, so I really want to go and I need a wingwoman.”

  At that, I start laughing. Clearly, this is Elisa’s real motive for showing up at a boring departmental party.

  “Okay,” I say. “I’ll text the babysitter and see,” is my promise.

  “Good woman,” Elisa crows before turning to the front of the classroom as the lecturer walks in. This class is led by a female poet of some renown, and I try to focus as she launches into a discourse on New Wave feminist literature. Yet, I can’t think because I’m still dreaming of Roland, and know that I will dream of him for the rest of my life.

  54

  Aria

  The departmental part is every bit as awful as Elisa promised. It’s being held in an empty classroom in Evans Hall, and the fluorescent lighting and desks bolted to the floor do not lend to a holiday atmosphere. At least the secretaries went wild with the decorations. There are red and green streamers everywher
e, and a mini-Christmas tree in a one corner stacked with vivid presents wrapped in red and gold paper. My guess is that Santa, also known as Professor Lewis, will be making an appearance midway through the party to deliver gifts.

  Elisa swans into the classroom, her brown hair done in a perfectly coiled chignon with ruby red lipstick painted in a smile.

  “Did you style your hair in the bathroom?” I ask, befuddled. “Just now?”

  “Yep,” she says cheerily. “And I spritzed myself with some Chanel Mademoiselle perfume too. Do you want some?”

  The truth is that I’ve been holding my breath ever since she stepped inside because the scent of her perfume is overpowering. But I manage a small smile.

  “No, I’m good, thanks.”

  She nods happily while scanning the room.

  “Oh, Mack’s over there,” she chirps, her eyes brightening. “Let’s go over to say hi.”

  I allow myself to be dragged along behind her with some reluctance. After all, I’m supposed to be at this professional party in order to find an adviser for my thesis, and not to watch my friend flirt with a football player. But Elisa will always be Elisa, and even now, she’s sidling up to Mack while batting her lashes.

  “Hi Mack,” she coos. “Remember me?”

  The football player looks like a stunned bovine.

  “Um, what?” he says. “Yeah?”

  “It’s me, Elisa McDonnell,” she purrs again. “Remember? We met last week at the Alpha Tau party.”

  Mack still looks stunned as all hell, but at least he manages a smile this time. Or maybe it’s because Elisa is a pretty girl, and smiling at pretty girls is reflexive on his part.

  “Oh hi again,” he says. “Nice to see you, Elisa.”

  She giggles and sidles up to him, practically rubbing against his side with her breasts. I can’t believe my friend is doing this with a roomful of faculty present, but hey, she’s not looking for an adviser.

  “We had a good time last weekend, didn’t we?” she coos. “By the way, did you ever find my panties? I swear I looked all over your room when I left that morning, but I couldn’t find them. Maybe you did?”

  Mack doesn’t even have the common sense to look embarrassed to be having this conversation in public. Instead, he just shakes his head.

  “Nope, haven’t seen them,” he says. “You sure you were with me?”

  Oh my god, that’s the most insulting thing this dunce of a football player could say. But Elisa just laughs it off.

  “I’m sure it was you, big boy. I’d recognize you in the dark at any time,” she says with a hint. “You were huge and so special.”

  God. This is gross. I can’t believe my friend is having a sexually-charged conversation during the English Department’s holiday party. She’s probably shocking the socks off some of the older secretaries, while also causing their pacemakers to run amok. Not only that, but Mack is really unintelligent. Why she wants to be with someone who looks like he eats grass is beyond me.

  With exasperation, I move towards the food table. I can’t stand to listen to more of their conversation because it’s just too ridiculous and inane at once. It was fucking awful, and I would have killed myself had I had to remain in their orbit for one more second.

  But the food table doesn’t look great for obvious reasons either. Like many departments, the English department is under budgetary pressure and as a result they haven’t exactly pulled out the stops when it comes to Christmas refreshments. There’s a murky looking brown punch in a glass bowl, as well as some sad-looking holiday cookies. There’s also some wilted looking sushi completing the spread. I don’t know whose idea the sushi was because it obviously doesn’t match the red-and-green theme, but who knows? I shouldn’t complain.

  Hesitantly, I pick up a piece of tamago, which is rice with fried egg on it. I stare at the yellow egg portion a little suspiciously. How do they get the egg so uniformly-colored and smooth? It’s weird, but then again, Japanese folks have the most advanced technology, so maybe they have a special cooker for sushi egg.

  I’m just about to take a bite when Professor Maximo Rossi bumps my elbow. He’s a mid-thirties man with greasy black hair combed straight back like a movie gangster. Not only that, but he’s wearing an ill-fitting, baggy pinstriped suit complete with a red tie and white shirt. Some girls swoon over Professor Rossi because he’s “handsome” if you like the Italian stallion look. I suppose he is, sort of. He’s tall with a brilliantly white grin, even if it must be the result of veneers.

  “Hey there,” he says, his breath hot and reeking of alcohol. “Is the sushi good?”

  I smile wanly.

  “Don’t know. Haven’t tried it yet.”

  He leers at me.

  “Give it a try,” he urges. “Show me that pretty mouth.”

  I stare at him, the sushi poised halfway in the air.

  “I’m sorry?” I ask.

  He puts on a look of fake surprise.

  “It’s very fresh sushi,” he says in an oily voice. “It’s going to be very good.”

  I shoot him another suspicious look, but then take a bite of the egg.

  “How is it?” he leers again.

  I chew for a moment, hoping he’ll go away. To be honest, the egg is cold and pretty tasteless, but I manage another wan smile.

  “Okay, I suppose. I don’t know much about sushi but I guess this is quite good.”

  He leers again.

  “It’s only okay because you didn’t have soy sauce or horseradish,” he says. “If you dip the sushi in a mix of soy sauce and wasabi, it’ll be so much better,” he says. “I’ll make it for you when I take you out,” he adds with a wink.

  I stare at him.

  “I’m sorry?” is my confused reply. “I didn’t see the soy sauce on the table.”

  He nods with a queenly air.

  “It’s because this is a shitty departmental holiday party, so they didn’t get any condiments. Those spacey secretaries never get it right. But how about next weekend? Sushi Tomo over on the west side? I know the chef, so I’ll have him make you something absolutely delectable.”

  I stare at him a bit before forcing my mouth closed. I don’t want to go out on a date with Professor Rossi because I’ve already been burned in that respect. I don’t want to make the same mistake twice, especially since now I have a baby to show for it.

  Even more, this man is absolutely not my type. He’s sleazy, and his nose glistens under the harsh florescent lights. There must be an entire tube of gel in his hair, given its streaked, wet look, even though it’s likely completely dry.

  “Oh I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I couldn’t. I have a son, and he needs me. I’d have to get a babysitter, and it’s really tough, and …”

  But Maximo Rossi won’t take no for an answer.

  “Then I’ll bring the sushi to your place. Address please,” he says with a charming smile. “Take out would be perfect.”

  “Oh no,” I say, waving both of my hands back and forth. “I couldn’t. That’s too much. My son gets really fussy around strangers.”

  But Maximo Rossi takes my elbow and guides me to the side of the room. I move stiffly but follow because I don’t want people to overhear our conversation. At least if we’re out of the way, no one will know what’s going on.

  But then I realize that I’ve been foiled because the room has been decorated with bits of mistletoe hanging in random places. In fact, there’s one cluster right above our heads at the moment, and Maximo leans in, his skin porous and oily upon close observation.

  “No need to freak out,” he says in his best snake-charmer voice. “Everything’s going to be fine, Aria. Just give me one kiss. You owe it to me, sweetheart. Relax. It’s the holiday season.”

  I look at him with sheer terror in my eyes. Oh my gosh, I’m about to be kissed by this overbearing Romeo with the fleshy fish lips who reeks of alcohol. But he’s coming closer and closer, and I get ready to scream when suddenly, my lips are covered with
a possessive male mouth that speaks of Heaven itself.

  55

  Roland

  Who the fuck does this Maximo Rossi think he is? He’s a new assistant professor hired after I decided to take a leave of absence, but still. I didn’t know he was a lech of the umpteenth degree, dressed like a fucking 20’s gangster with his baggy suit and leering smile.

  But I don’t blame him for zeroing in on Aria because she’s absolutely stunning. She’s curvy and luscious, even if she’s still hiding her incredible body under loose sweatshirts.

  I don’t blame her. After all, this is the English Department’s annual holiday party, so it’s not anything fancy. It’s the opposite of fancy, in fact, with its sad food and drink and dingy decorations. But still, it’s a time for my colleagues to get together to build camaraderie with professors, staff, and students alike.

  It was a last minute decision to come, to be frank. I’ve been spending my time as part of a writer’s colony up in Maine in order to get my head screwed on right. After I was cleared in the investigation, my department chair supported my decision to go off the grid, and relieved me of teaching duties for a year. It’s been a relief, living in a small wooden cabin in the forests of Maine without any distractions to detract from my writing.

  Yet, the real reason why I needed to go was because of Aria. Yes, the investigation was fucking awful, but her desertion was even worse. I didn’t know what to make of it at first. She disappeared, and initially, I thought it was a mistake. She’s a young girl, and didn’t know how to handle the pressure of an academic investigation. With my support and some calm reasoning on my part, we’d get through this together.

  But her disappearance was real. After it became apparent that she’d actually withdrawn from the university, my heart plummeted. What happened to having each other’s backs? What happened to staying together through thick and thin? Was it possible that when my situation became difficult, Aria was just about a good time? Did she really leave me because we were about to face the Inquisition?