Variables of Love

by M. K. Schiller

  “Are you saying I hit her or something?” I started shaking, realizing I had been so wrapped up in her leaving, I hadn’t thought about what I might have done to cause it. The cold grip of fear took hold on me as I realized I couldn’t remember.

  “I know you didn’t. You don’t have that kind of evil in you, but you definitely injured her. She loved you. She left you. She had to.”

  “I wasn’t ready.”

  “You were never going to be ready, man. She knew that.”

  He was right. I slumped down to the floor. Darren waited, making sure I was okay before he left the room. His words soaked into my hazy head. He was right. She loved me, so she left me. She did it for me, not her.

  Chapter 25

  I TEXTED AND LEFT HER VOICE MAILS. I looked for her on campus. I never found her. She was avoiding me. I knew her whole schedule, and it was apparent she was taking different paths to class and eating at odd times in the union. I called Rachael and Raj too, but they both warned me to leave her alone. I couldn’t, though. I racked my brain in the weeks since she’d left, wondering what I’d done. What had I said?

  Sunshine, I’m sorry. Please talk to me.

  Meena, I don’t know what I did. Let

  me make it right. Smiley face.

  Baby, I miss you. Please just

  let me know you’re okay.

  I know I was an ass. I was drunk. If you

  recall, you said things you didn’t mean when

  you were drunk. Please forgive me.

  This can’t be our goodbye. I need a proper goodbye.

  We need closure. Can’t you give me that?

  You’re making me feel like a stalker. I

  guess that’s what I am now. I went from

  friend number three to stalker number one.

  Sunshine, if you cared about me

  at all, you would talk to me.

  That one did it. A simple text came back.

  I’m trying to get out of your head. HELP ME.

  That’s when the rattling, fragmented, bitter words came back to me. I couldn’t remember them with clarity, but I knew Darren was right. I’d wounded her. Meena cared so much she cried for dead swans and Mandy, a girl she barely knew whose boyfriend was a jerk sometimes. She absorbed guilt like a sponge, even when it wasn’t her burden to bear. She felt guilty about what she was doing to me, and I’d encouraged it.

  I tried to leave her alone, but it was a few nights before graduation, and I had to see her. Even if it was just to say goodbye. The end of us had happened, but I didn’t want the bitterness clouding all of the good memories we had. I waited in the lounge area of her dormitory. It took a few hours until she finally came down. She’d lost weight in the time we’d spent apart, and she looked sad but beautiful…always beautiful, warm, and bright…like sunshine.

  “I need to talk to you,” I said, clasping her arm before she made it to the door. She hadn’t seen me and jumped back.

  “This is a bad time.” She removed my hand. I let her.

  “We’re out of time. I know that. Just talk to me.”

  “Meena, who is this?” asked an elegantly dressed woman coming through the door. The similarity in features was undeniable. Meena’s mother.

  “Um…this is…”

  “My boyfriend,” Rachael chimed in. I had no idea where she had come from. She’d probably been there the whole time, but my eyes were locked on Meena. Rachael held my hand.

  Meena had explained this to me once. Her parents were okay with her being friends with Raj because he was Indian, but they would disapprove of friendships with other boys. Rachael was doing her a favor by acting as a decoy.

  “This is Meena’s mother, Mrs. Kapoor,” Rachael introduced.

  “Hi, I’m Ethan Callahan. It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Kapoor.”

  Mrs. Kapoor shook my hand, regarding me somewhat suspiciously. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, Rachael.”

  “It’s a real recent thing,” she replied.

  I offered a smile. “Very recent.”

  “We should go, Mom,” Meena said.

  Two men came through the door. I saw the unpleasant look on Meena’s face. The taller, stern man could only be her father, but there was also a younger guy with a goatee.

  Rachael squeezed my hand in some kind of warning gesture when he placed his hand on Meena’s shoulder. Fucking dickhead. At least she jerked from his touch.

  “Ethan, this is Dr. Kapoor, Meena’s father. And this is Chetan, a family friend who came to watch Meena graduate.”

  I shook hands with both of them. Chetan winced in pain when I shook his hand. My grip was way too strong for a friendly handshake, but I couldn’t help it. Passive aggression was my only means for alleviating my anger. I almost laughed when he rubbed his palm after.

  “Would you like to join us for dinner, Ethan? Rachael’s parents are at the restaurant, and I’m sure they would love to meet you,” Mrs. Kapoor offered.

  “He can’t,” Rachael interjected before I could answer. “He just came to pay me back for the textbook I picked up for him.” I had no idea what she was talking about, but Rachael held her hand out to me.

  I stared at it dumbfounded. She wiggled her fingers. “Pay me back, Ethan,” she said. It was probably the first viable excuse she could think of as to why I was waiting at their dormitory. I had to admit, she sounded convincing. If the degree in communications didn’t amount to anything, she could always take up acting.

  I took out my wallet and stuffed a fifty in her hand, wondering how Rachael managed to extort money from me. “Thanks, Ethan. We have to go.”

  I watched them all leave. I stiffened when Chetan placed his hand on the small of Meena’s back, leading her out. This felt like some sort of horrible punishment—granted, it was one I deserved. I left, drove around for hours, but ended up right back at her dorm.

  A girl exiting the building held the door for me so I could sneak up to Meena’s room. I just needed to talk to her face to face. I needed her to hear my apology even if she didn’t accept it. Hell, I really just needed to hold her one more time.

  She answered the door on the first knock. She was wearing her yoga shorts and a T-shirt embellished with Einstein’s field equations. My T-shirt. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail. My fingers twitched, wanting to free it. She was listening to “This Ain’t Goodbye” by Train. The lyrics eerily echoed what I was feeling.

  “Can I talk to you?”

  “Yes,” she said, opening the door. I was expecting some resistance, but she seemed to want the conversation as much as I did.

  “Who is he?” I asked, trying keep my voice level.

  “He’s a family friend. My parents invited him.”

  “Is he a contender?”

  If a laugh could be defined as sad, then that’s what she did. She laughed sadly. “I suppose. I’m sure you don’t want to talk about this.”

  “No, I guess not. Where’s Rachael?” I was procrastinating. I didn’t want our time to end.

  “She’s staying at the hotel with her parents. My parents are there too.”

  “Why aren’t you there?”

  “I wasn’t done packing. I was hoping you’d come.”

  I swallowed, feeling a mixture of relief and sadness. The room was pretty bare, except for a few boxes and miscellaneous items.

  “Let me help you,” I offered.

  She shrugged and pointed to the packing tape. I took the cue and started closing up the boxes for her. “I told Rachael she needs to give you back your money. I think she was trying to make me laugh.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then it was money well spent.”

  We worked in the thick tension of silence. I kept glancing at her. Meena was a small girl, but she’d definitely lost weight…too much weight. My shirt was falling off her shoulders, revealing the pink, lacy strap of her bra.

  She misunderstood my gaze and stared at me contritely. “I stole your shirt. Do yo
u want it back?”

  I laughed and strode over to her. I tugged at the hem of shirt. “Yes, take it off right now. I insist.” She giggled as my fingertips tickled her sides, but she didn’t push me away.

  “Ethan, will you do something for me?”

  “What do you want, Sunshine?”

  She laughed. “I know what you’re thinking, you naughty boy, but what I’d really like from you is a letter.”

  “A letter?” I asked in disbelief.

  “I want a tangible piece of you that I can have. I remember how you said your father wrote to you. I always thought it was very sweet. I left you the painting so you could have that part of me. I want something of you that’s personal.”

  I sighed. “Not exactly what I had in mind, but I will.”

  “Thank you.” She rifled through a box and handed me a pen and notebook.

  “Now?” I asked, not hiding my disappointment.

  “No time like the present,” she said, trying to smile, but failing.

  “What do you want me to write?”

  “Anything. You can tell me you hate me—I don’t care. Memories have a way of becoming faded, and I don’t want us to fade. I just want to remember the realness of you.”

  “I could never hate you.”

  “Then say that, Ethan. I don’t care if you scratch or scrawl, or pen it in that neat block writing you have.”

  I really didn’t want to write her a letter. It seemed too final. I took the items from her and sat on her bed. I couldn’t think of what I wanted to say to her—it was too much emotion to put into words. All I could do was watch her as she moved around the room.

  She walked up to me after a while. “Did you finish my letter?”

  “Yes, in fact I wrote you twenty-six letters,” I replied.

  She regarded me curiously, taking the notebook from me, staring at it with narrowed eyes. “I can’t believe you wrote the alphabet. Are you making fun of me?” She threw the notebook across the room.

  She sat on the edge of the bed with her shoulders hunched. I gripped them and leaned against her neck. “I’m sorry. I can’t express what you mean to me in words. I want to show you not tell you.”

  “I have to finish packing.” She stood up and walked over to the far corner of the small room. She picked up a box that was too heavy for her. I raced up to her, trying to take it from her, but she wouldn’t relinquish it. It tipped spilling items to the floor. We both bent down to pick them up.

  “I never wanted to hurt you,” she choked out, holding back a sob.

  “I know that. I didn’t mean those things I said that night.”

  “Yes, you did, but it’s okay. I’m glad you had a chance to say them. I needed to hear them.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, especially since I couldn’t remember exactly what I said. So, I just held up an odd-looking object wrapped in a long velvet pouch. “What’s this?”

  Her eyes widened, and she immediately snatched it from me. “It’s nothing.”

  There was a small impish smile on her face, and it was the first one I’d seen today. She bit her lower lip anxiously, but there was a bit of excitement in her eyes.

  I couldn’t give up so easily. “Show me.”

  “It’s nothing,” she said, scrambling to her feet. She backed away toward the bed.

  I matched her backward steps with forward ones, like a predator after its prey. It was turning her on. “Obviously, it’s something you don’t want me to see.”

  “It’s one of those woman things that would freak you out, Ethan.”

  “I know it’s not a tampon, Meena. Now give it,” I growled, narrowing the space between us.

  She jumped back on the bed, trying to crawl to the other side, but I leaped on top of her before she could. I stared down at her face, inches from mine. I knew what she wanted. What she needed. What we both needed. I kissed her long, slowly, passionately, tracing her lips, tasting her mouth, sucking her tongue. When I moved away, we were both breathing hard. I stared at the object I’d taken from her during the exchange, turning it around and shaking the pouch. It fell out with a thump right next to her head. It was long and pink with a couple of settings.

  “Have you always had a vibrator?” I asked, amused.

  She bit her lower lip. “No, I never even masturbated before.”

  “Before what?”

  “Before I left you.”

  “Why do you have it?” I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear her say it.

  “Rachael said it would help with the physical needs. She took me to buy it.”

  I chuckled, imagining innocent Meena in a sex shop. “Has it helped?”

  “I can’t believe we’re talking about this. It’s so embarrassing.” She covered her face with her hands.

  I moved them away. “You can tell me anything. I just want to know.”

  “I think I’m doing it wrong.”

  I laughed. “Show me what you do.”

  “Ethan, are you crazy?”

  “I want to help you with this. There’s no reason to be embarrassed. Do you think I don’t masturbate? Granted, I don’t need any tools, but I do it, a lot, recently.”

  “I can’t show you. It’s weird.”

  “There’s nothing weird between us.” I kissed her neck and tugged at her shirt until she sat up. I took it off her. “I’ll make it easier for you.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll get you wet.”

  I ran my fingers over the lacy outline of her bra before removing it, revealing her perfect round breasts. I took my time suckling each one, letting my teeth graze the nipples. She moaned. I trailed kisses down to her waist, removing her yoga shorts and the lacy pink panties underneath.

  She tugged on my shirt. I reached behind me, ripping it off with one hand. She moved her feet up, curling her toes around the waistband of my jeans. I stood up and unzipped them, shrugging them off along with my boxers. I stared at her lying naked on the twin bed, ready and waiting for me. I wanted to take her right then, but I needed to make this last. I made a slow path, kissing her ankles up to her thighs, before diving in with a deep thirst, needing to taste her sweetness.

  She tugged my hair and screamed loudly as I licked, flicked, and thrust with my tongue. Her thighs shook, and her body writhed with my every movement. I sucked on her clit, devouring her while driving her to the edge. I felt her let go, moaning my name over and over.

  I moved up to her neck, marking my path with my lips, wanting to touch every part of her body. My fingers trailed down, moving into her soaking pussy. “You’re so wet.”

  “Your fault,” she said breathlessly.

  “Then take care of it.” I put the dildo into her hand and shifted so I was at her side. The surprise on her face made it apparent that she’d forgotten about it. She seemed uncertain, but she wouldn’t be satisfied with the orgasm I’d given her. She needed the relief that only penetration could provide. She took the tool and glided it down her waist until she reached her opening where she inserted it.

  “What do you think about when you masturbate?” I asked her.

  “You.”

  I smiled. “Right answer.”

  “What do you think about?” She wasn’t even moving it. No wonder she couldn’t get herself off.

  “You.”

  “Really?”

  I knew by her expression she thought I was lying, but I wasn’t. “Yes, you. Just you.”

  “Just me?”

  I smiled sheepishly. “Well, sometimes you have two sets of boobs.”

  She laughed.

  “What can I say? I’m a sci-fi nut.” She continued to laugh until I clasped the hand that was holding the vibrator and turned it on. “Get on with it, baby.”

  She moved it slowly with hesitation.

  “Meena, you like it rougher than that. Let me show you.” I tightened my hand around hers and moved it with force.

  She moaned in reply.

  “I really like this,” I whis
pered against her ear.

  “Why?” she asked in a half-moan, half-scream.

  “Usually, I’m preoccupied when you’re in this state, but right now I can just concentrate on you. You make the most beautiful faces when you’re about to come.” I trailed kisses down her cheek and neck while thrusting the vibrator.

  “Ethan, I don’t want this.”

  “What do you want?”

  She moved her hand to the back of my head, pulling me toward her. I didn’t budge. She grunted in some frustrated, garbled command.

  “Use your words, Sunshine.”

  “I want you.”

  That was enough. The statement drove me crazy with lust. I removed the plastic toy from between her legs and positioned myself on top of her. I entered her, propelling wildly. Her arms clung to me. Then she scraped her nails down my back so hard she drew blood. I loved it.

  I growled in response, unable to articulate my appreciation any other way. I rolled us so I was on my back. She sat up and moved the length of my erection. Her pussy claiming me like a vice-grip. I sat up, removing her rubber band, letting her silky locks surround us. I embraced her tightly, grazing her shoulders and neck with my teeth. I bit more roughly in the sensitive skin on her breast. She screamed out in pleasurable pain and raked those long nails of hers across my back again. I clasped her hips and guided her, working toward our mutual release. I took her lower lip in my mouth and massaged it between my teeth. She yanked my hair.

  “Fuck, do it again.” She did.

  “It’s always your fault when I’m wet.” She leaned her forehead against mine.

  “You’ll never know how much I needed to hear that,” I gasped, drawing her into me.

  The sex was completely frenzied and primitive, but it was also the perfect expression of who we were in that moment. We desperately needed to leave our marks on each other.

  I choked out her name. All of her names. Meena. Sunshine. Baby. My girl. That was who she would always be to me. I felt her release, and I immediately let go, unable to hold on to my control. We were both panting, covered in slick sweat, and our hearts were beating to the same tune, loud, conflicted, but passionate all the same.