School Fling Anthology: Class Is in Session

by Jessica Wood

  “Sounds like there’s more to that story,” Brandon said.

  I flushed. “He’s an ex-boyfriend,” I admitted.

  “Oh.” Brandon was silent for a moment. “Do you talk to him a lot still?” There was something strained in his voice that I couldn’t understand.

  “No, we haven’t spoken since we broke up.”

  “When was that?”

  “Right before I left for Cancun on spring break this past March,” I said as I looked over at him. His blank expression at my mention of Cancun was like a cold dagger to my heart. He really doesn’t remember.

  “Why do you think he’s calling?” he asked.

  “Um, I’m really not sure actually,” I began. “He does live in D.C. though.”

  “That seems like too much of a coincidence.” Brandon’s voice matched the look on his face—cold and troubled. “Are you going to call him back?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said, and I really wasn’t. I hadn’t really thought too much about Mike since we broke up, and his unsolicited phone call did not conjure any of the old feelings I’d had for him.

  I was relieved when our flight began its boarding process and we were called to board. I was not ready to call Mike back at that moment—and definitely not in front of Brandon.

  ***

  By midday Monday, after receiving several text messages from Mike and another call, I finally succumbed and called him back.

  “Hey, babe,” Mike’s familiar voice came from the other end after the first ring.

  “Hi, Mike. Sorry I didn’t respond until now. I’ve been just busy with work,” I said. I thought that he knew I was no longer interested, right?

  “No problem. I just saw on Facebook that you’re in D.C.? Are you still around?” he asked.

  Crap, I thought. I totally forgot that Sarah had posted on my wall a few days ago, wishing me good luck in D.C.

  “Yeah, I’m here for work,” I said. Please don’t ask me to see you, I begged him silently.

  “Well, I’d like to see you since you’re in my neck of the woods,” he said.

  I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I remained silent.

  “Come on, Emma,” Mike pleaded. “We haven’t seen or spoken to one another for like five months.”

  It’s been over eight months, I thought. “Mike, I’m pretty busy with work,” I began.

  “Oh right. So what are you here for anyway?” he asked.

  “We’re giving a marketing pitch this afternoon to a five-star hotel management company about the branding possibilities for a new set of hotels they’re building,” I said. It was difficult to hide the excitement in my voice, even though I was talking to Mike.

  “Sounds interesting,” Mike said halfheartedly, “Why don’t you tell me all about it over dinner tonight?”

  “I’m not sure, Mike,” I said hesitantly.

  “Well when are you leaving D.C.?” he asked.

  “Tomorrow morning,” I replied.

  “So soon? Then we have to hang out tonight.”

  “I’ll probably be pretty tired after the pitch today. I just spent the last four hours doing last-minute preparations for the pitch with my boss, and this afternoon will be a stressful one,” I explained, hoping it was enough to get me out of this meeting.

  It was not.

  Mike sighed with frustration. “Dammit, Emma. Ugh. I’m really sorry for being a jerk to you that night,” he continued. “I was totally out of line, and I knew that. It’s not an excuse, but I was just under a lot of pressure from the guys. Plus, you know how much I love you and how badly I want you. Can you please let me make it up to you?”

  I remained silent but felt my resolve waver.

  “I—” I started.

  “If you’re not up for dinner, what about drinks?” he interrupted. “Emma, I want us to be at least friends. I don’t like how we left things.”

  I paused. He had been a good boyfriend up until that night. “Fine. Just drinks.”

  “Great,” Mike said excitedly. “I know a lot of great bars in D.C. and—”

  “Mike, I think I’ll be pretty tired after this pitch. Do you mind if we just grab a drink at the bar here at my hotel? I just don’t know if I’m up for going anywhere.”

  “Sure, that works too,” Mike said. “How about I swing by around eight p.m.?”

  “Okay.” I gave Mike my hotel information before hanging up the phone. Before I had the chance to process everything that was said from the call, Brandon texted me: Hey, meet you out front in 5? We should head over for the pitch now.

  ***

  “You were amazing, Emma!” Brandon ran over and hugged me tightly, lifting me off the ground. We had just left Imperial Hotel’s offices where we had given our pitch. His embrace was strong and comforting. It felt like home and where I belonged. I inhaled deeply and his smell sent chills down my spine.

  “I could just kiss you! You really saved my ass in there,” he said with excitement.

  “I’m glad that I could help,” I said with laughter. And I wouldn’t mind that kiss, I thought to myself.

  “We should go out to a nice dinner and celebrate,” Brandon said with unadulterated excitement shining through his eyes.

  I groaned, which immediately halted Brandon’s excitement.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I actually made plans tonight,” I said, feeling a tinge of guilt I couldn’t place.

  Understanding seemed to appear on his face. “With your ex?”

  “Yeah,” I said, looking away from him.

  There was a pause.

  “Are you still interested in him?”

  “No, it’s not like that. He just heard that I was in town and has been calling and texting ever since to try to meet up before I head back to SF,” I explained.

  “Oh. So what do you guys have planned? A nice dinner out?”

  “No, he’s meeting me downstairs in our hotel bar.”

  “I see.” We stood there in silent for a few seconds, the excitement and adrenaline from our successful pitch slowly leaving us. “Well, I hope you have fun then. If you need anything, I’m just across the hall. Otherwise, I’ll see you in the morning.” He leaned forward and gave me a hug—not just a quick half-hug, but a full, firm embrace. I hugged him back, and we both inhaled deeply at the same time, causing my heart to flutter wildly inside my chest.

  “Really great job today, Emma,” Brandon said as he released me from his embrace.

  “Thanks. You were amazing as well.” I smiled at him before heading to my hotel room.

  ***

  Later that night, I met Mike downstairs at the hotel bar. His eyes lit up when he saw me. I had on a simple top and jeans. He looked the same as I last saw him, yet he seemed like a stranger to me. We hugged and found a quiet table at the far end of the bar.

  “Emma, you look amazing!” he exclaimed.

  “Thanks, Mike.”

  “So how are you? How’s living in San Francisco?”

  “I’m really good, and SF has been a lot of fun.”

  “Yeah, I love that city. I was thinking of visiting next month for a long weekend. I’ve love to see you when I’m there,” he said as he gave me his most charming smile.

  I wasn’t sure how to respond. I wasn’t sure why, but I knew that I didn’t want Mike in my new life after college. Luckily, before I could respond, a waitress arrived at her table to take our drink orders.

  “So how’s D.C.?” I asked as the waitress left, diverting the conversation away from his potential visit.

  “It’s been pretty awesome. I’ve been working on several important bills that will be introduced to Congress in next couple of months, and I have been meeting a lot of influential people every day.”

  For the next hour, Mike excitedly summed up everything he’d been doing in D.C. and everyone he had met through his internship. I sat there quietly and nodded, grateful that I didn’t have to speak.

  Finally, after several drinks, Mike stopped his
monolog and looked at me. “So are you dating anyone?”

  His question caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected him to stop talking about himself, and I certainly hadn’t expected him to ask me that question. “I-I… No, I’m not,” I finally stammered out.

  Then I saw a devious gleam in his eyes and he smiled at me. “So you’re still a virgin then.” He said it as a statement and not a question.

  “Um…” I paused, unsure of what to say. I couldn’t very well say “yes,” but I also wasn’t prepared to tell him that I had slept with someone else a week after we broke me.

  Even through his intoxicated haze, Mike caught my hesitation. “You’re not a virgin?” Anger and outrage glinted in his eyes, and for a second I felt my body tense up in fear.

  Emma, calm down. You’ve known Mike for over a year. It makes sense that he’s upset, but there’s nothing to worry about. It’s Mike.

  I shook my head lightly to answer his question.

  “When? Who?” he asked.

  “It’s not important,” I said, trying avoid the question.

  “The hell it’s not,” he snapped. “We had been going out over a year and we only broke up six months ago?”

  “Eight,” I corrected him.

  “Whatever. My point is, you jumped into bed with another person in less time than I had waited patiently for you. And shit, you’re single, so you’re not even with that lucky fucker.”

  I remained silent and looked at my drink.

  “How could you?” he asked and I heard the indignation in his voice.

  “I’m sorry,” I managed to say.

  There was a long period of silence.

  “Mike,” I began. “I’m sorry, but I’m getting tired. It’s been a really long day and I have an early flight to catch.” I got up to go, but Mike stopped me.

  “Emma, stop. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please sit my back down. I don’t know what came over me.”

  I slowly sat back down, wishing I were anywhere but here.

  “I guess I’m just shocked. You can understand that right?”

  I said nothing.

  “I mean, we were together for so long and we were perfect together. And I respected your need to wait before having sex. So to hear that you slept with someone else who isn’t even your boyfriend… I’m sorry, I just flipped out a little. I’m sorry.” Mike grabbed my hands with his. “Please forgive me,” he pleaded.

  “Okay,” I said softly. “But I really should go to bed.”

  “Sure. Let me close out our tab.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mike walked me back to my room after our drinks. I could tell he had drunk a little more than he should have because by the time we got to my room he had his arms around me. I sighed in relief when we finally got to the door of my room and that I could call it a night.

  “And here’s my room.” I motioned as we stopped at my hotel room door. I fished out my keycard, slid it through the keycard slot, and opened my door. I walked through my door before turning back to Mike.

  “Mike, I had a nice time catching up. Thanks for reaching out. Have a good—”

  “Babe, I’m not ready to say goodnight yet,” Mike slurred, interrupting me. He moved forward and turned the door latch over so that the door would not close against the frame completely. Instinctively, I felt my body stiffen and pinpricks of panic began to creep their way through my body.

  “I know, but I’m really tired, Mike,” I tried to reason.

  Mike leaned against the door frame and blocked me from closing the door on him. “I still want to hang out a little. I’m not sure when I’ll see you again.” Then Mike walked through the door, pushing me inside and allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Before I could protest, he grabbed me and began to kiss me violently.

  “Mike!” I cried. “Mike, please stop!”

  He didn’t stop. His lips and tongue moved against my mouth with force and desperation. He shuffled me down the hallway and onto my bed, pinning me down against the bed.

  I felt tears roll down my face as fear paralyzed me from fighting back. I felt his hands frantically rubbing against my blouse and down behind my thighs. I felt his fingers against my jeans, pushing up between my inner thighs. My body screamed against his touch.

  “Mike,” I choked out. “What—what are you doing? What are you doing?”

  “What do you think, baby,” Mike murmured against my ears. I could feel his hot breath against my cheeks and smell the strong stench of alcohol from his breath. “Now that you’re no longer a virgin, I’m going to show you a good time and make you cry out my name and beg for more.”

  “Don’t do this, Mike. You’re just drunk! You don’t want to do this,” I begged. My mind was hysterically screaming at myself to fight back. Finally, I felt my body break out of the initial paralyzing shock and I tried to push Mike off me. “Stop, Mike! Please stop! You don’t want to do this!” I cried through my tears.

  “But I do want to do this, Emma. I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I met you, and you know what they say. ‘Good things come to those who wait.’ And we both know how very long I’ve waited for this moment.”

  Mike grabbed both of my hands and pinned them against my chest with one hand while his other hand ripped the blouse off me to reveal my bra. He then unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans and pulled them down to my ankles. I tried to kick him and wiggle my body away from him, but he was too strong. He successfully pinned me down with his hands as I felt his fingers move down my body—first circling my exposed breast and then down between my inner thighs. His fingers ran down between my inner thighs against my panties and I heard myself scream in agony. This can’t be happening. Please let me die before this happens, I begged silently. I closed my eyes, feeling myself giving up the fight.

  Then I felt as if a weight had been lifted off me, and for a second, I thought my prayers had been answered and I had died. But then I heard his voice through the thick fog that surrounded my thoughts.

  “Emma?” he said. “Emma? Can you hear me? Please open your eyes. I need you to be okay.” Is that him? Is it really possible that it is him?

  It was. My eyes fluttered open and Brandon’s gorgeous face stared down at me. I started crying again the second I realized it was him. He covered me with a towel and held me close to him as I heard him call the front desk. I saw Mike’s body unconscious on the floor with blood on his face, and the sight of him made me flinch.

  The next thirty minutes passed in a blur. Two police officers had shown up and taken Mike away after Brandon had told them what he saw. He convinced them that I was not in a state to give my statement tonight and that he’d bring me in tomorrow morning to give it.

  After the police left, Brandon carried me in my towel to his room when I told him that I didn’t want to stay in my room. He gently set me against the head of the bed and sat down next to me, holding me against his chest.

  “Everything will be okay, Emma. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Ever again.” I felt him hold me tighter against him and a sense of relief washed through me. Brandon made me feel safe and protected.

  “Please don’t leave me,” I begged.

  “I won’t,” he whispered softly in my ear. “I don’t know what I would have done if he—if I didn’t get there when I did. I’m just sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”

  “How—how did you get in?” I asked in confusion.

  “The door latch had the door ajar, and I heard you screaming from my room.”

  “This feels like déjà vu,” I muttered to myself.

  “What do you mean by that?” Brandon asked. I looked up at him and concern filled his eyes.

  I paused before answering, trying to decide if I should tell him. Emma, this is your chance. He just saved you from being raped. He deserves to know.

  “Can I tell you something, Brandon?” I asked hesitantly as I looked up at him.

  “Yes, of course. You can tell me anything,” he said as he held me closer.
/>   “Well, remember when I mentioned during our lunch that I started volunteering at SFWAR?”

  “Yes,” Brandon said.

  “Well I volunteer there because…because, in many ways, the cause is personal to me.” I paused. There was silence. I saw his eyes flicker from confusion to understanding as he realized what I was suggesting.

  “Were you raped before this, Emma?” There was a sharp undertone of anger in Brandon’s concerned voice. “Was it that guy tonight?”

  “No, no it’s not like that,” I cut in. “And no, it wasn’t him and I wasn’t raped. Well, it almost happened, but…”

  I paused and thought about what I wanted to say next. I decided not to tell Brandon about my mom, so I only told him the story of what happened to me almost four years ago that night during freshman year. The memory of that night would always stay vivid in mind as one of my worst nights of my life. That was the night John—my then boyfriend—forced himself on top of me, broke my jaw, and almost raped me.

  I met John at a frat party freshman year. He was a charmer, and all the girls seemed to want him. I was impressionable then, so I was flattered when John noticed me that night and asked me out. After two weeks of dating, I trusted him and thought he was a nice guy. Then, at a house party one night, he pulled me into one of the bedrooms to make out. He was drunk and high. After a few minutes, he started to get really rough on me. He ripped my clothes off, and I begged him to stop. But instead of stopping, he forced his hands all over me—on my breasts, in between my inner thighs, and inside me. I remembered crying and screaming for him to stop. But he didn’t listen. Instead, he tried to shut me up. He punched me several times in my face and knocked me unconscious. When I came to, I was in a hospital room with a broken jaw, five stitches, and a number of severe bruises. Luckily for me, someone had walked in on us and saw me covered in blood, passed out, and naked while John was undressing himself. They had immediately called 911. John was arrested and charged with assault and attempted rape, and I was hospitalized for a week.

  During my entire story, Brandon had remained quiet and focused, showing a mixture of concern and rage in his eyes. By the time I finished, I realized that my whole body was shaking and tears were rolling down my face. Brandon pulled me closer to him and held me with both arms as I cried in his embrace.