Authors: Lisa Burstein
Carter
“Dude
you’ve had your fingers on your straw so long I’m beginning to wonder if you’re
considering switching teams,” Tristan said.
I
looked up from my tray, woke to the sounds of the dining hall: the clink of
silverware on plates, of ice ringing in raised glasses, the voices of students
laughing and talking and
being
around us. The hum of campus life when
students were just being human, filling needs instead of wants.
I
let go of the straw I’d been fiddling with and eyed Tristan. “If that’s how the
guys you’ve been with have been doing it, you might consider switching.”
“Funny,”
he replied, “but if my parents couldn’t get me to do it, you’re not going to.”
“Wouldn’t
dare try—girls are nuts,” I sighed, putting my hands on my lap so I would leave
the damn straw alone.
“Are
we talking about who I think we’re talking about?” he asked, leaning in closer,
his body making a shadow across his tray of food.
“I
kissed Kate,” I admitted. There was no use hiding it and, truthfully, I wanted
to be able to tell someone. When something that amazing happens, you can’t help
but share it even if one half of you can’t stop thinking it was a mistake.
Actually,
every mistake feels at least partly amazing, otherwise you wouldn’t keep making
them.
“So
that means you finally took my advice,” he said, unable to hide the smugness in
his voice.
“Well,
she kissed me,” I explained, “but I kissed her back.” Like that made it better
or any less confusing.
“Shit,
dude.” He shook his head, a whistle escaping his lips. “That didn’t take long.”
He
was right. Considering it had been years since I’d even been in close enough
proximity to talk to a girl, a week was nothing. I still couldn’t figure out
how Kate had gotten to me the way she did, but clearly she had.
“How
was it?” he asked, a smile sweeping across his lips.
“That’s
the first thing you’re asking?” I laughed.
“Yeah,
I’d much rather hear about that. We can get to the weirdness you feel about it
later.”
Instead
of telling him there was no weirdness, because I mean, he wasn’t stupid I told
him what he’d asked for. “It was incredible, better than I remember actually.”
Talking
about it, it was like her lips were on mine again. The emptiness in my chest,
in me, filling more and more the longer we kissed. A tightness building, becoming
a fullness that, if we had kept going, would have been the release that made
you crave the fullness again.
“Was
it the kind of kiss that could make you a member of your team for life?” he
asked, crunching on a potato chip.
“It
would make
you
a member of my team for life,” I replied. I couldn’t help
but smile, remembering the way Kate looked at me as she leaned in. The bit of
her that was only animal glinting behind her eyes.
“That
must have been some kiss,” he laughed.
Thank
goodness for Tristan. As much as I felt like I had no one who understood me,
who gave me the benefit of the doubt, I had him. I don’t know what I would have
done without him.
We
were guys so we’d never said so, but he felt the same. I was all those things
to him too. Being gay wasn’t a crime like my past seemed, but to some people it
was. To some people it was worse. It was everything most people saw when they
looked at him, just like what happened to Jeanie was all they saw when they
looked at me.
“It
was,” I said, shaking my head, “it was…” I trailed off, closing my mouth tight.
I was suddenly reluctant to give it words because it had been something without
words, without explanation—it just was. I was only me and she was only her,
there was nothing else between us.
“Details,”
he said, moving his hands toward him like he was trying to call a dog.
I might
not want to ruin our kiss with too much description, but I could tell him about
Saturday night. “Well, after I carried her out of the Delta Tau party,” I
started.
“Whoa,
slow down,” he said, stopping me with his hand and sitting straighter in his
chair. “You went to a frat party?”
“No,
I saw her on the porch totally wasted, and I followed her inside to make sure
she was okay.”
“You
just happened to see her on a porch on fraternity row, a place you’ve avoided
for three years?”
“Am
I telling you what happened or are you interrogating me?” I asked. What I’d
done had been bizarre. I didn’t appreciate the reminder.
He
eyed me.
“Got
it—it borders on stalker.”
“No,
you’re well into stalker land. You might even be the mayor.”
“She
does something to me. I felt like I needed to help her. I don’t know why.”
“I
know why,” he said, his eyes boring deeper.
“Right,”
I pressed my lips together.
“Maybe
instead of taking care of everything on God’s green earth, you should try
taking care of yourself for a change.”
“What
does that mean?”
“It
means that you’re acting like she’s one of your shelter animals. You’re like
Noah, minus the ark.”
“Do
you want to hear what happened or not?” I asked, my voice sounding a lot more
temper tantrum than I intended.
“Fine,”
he sighed. “What did she do after you carried her out?” he asked, clearly
humoring me.
“Forget
it.” I forced myself to look past him, focusing instead on the line of students
at the hot section. They had things occupying their minds, coloring each action,
but it always seemed like other people could hide it better than I could. Maybe
that was because everyone, everywhere, except for Kate, knew my burden.
“Not
every girl is Jeanie,” Tristan said, “and not every guy is going to do what
those assholes did.”
“Not
every guy would do what I did for Kate either,” I said. What I wished I could
have done for Jeanie, but didn’t.
“Exactly,”
he replied, clearly not budging that he thought what I’d done Saturday night was
crazy.
Maybe
it was, but he hadn’t seen what I had. He hadn’t been through what I had. What
Jeanie had been through because of what I hadn’t done.
“Got
it,” I huffed and sat back in my chair. “Noted that you’ve labeled me a stalker
sleazeball.”
He
paused and made a circle with his pointer finger. “How about we fast forward to
the good part?”
I
took a breath. “After I walked her back to the dorm we started kissing, and she
reached under my shirt.” I stopped biting the inside of my lip. It was as
intense as the shock of her on my skin had been; the fury I fought against when
her finger and thumb teased at the button on my jeans. He’d asked for details
but I was keeping those to myself. “We’ve talked since, but it’s weird.”
“So
we’re on the weirdness already?”
“You
told me to fast forward,” I joked.
“Dude,
you need your own variety show, you’re hilarious,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“Truthfully,
though, I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about
her
.”
I can’t stay away from her
, I didn’t say.
He
took a bite of his sandwich. “And that’s bad because?”
I
shifted and lowered my gaze.
“Hey,
at least you’re both still talking. You know how many guys I’ve been with who
pretend they don’t know my name the next day?”
“They’re
pricks,” I said.
“Yeah,
she’s not.”
I
took a deep, painful breath.
“You
think you need to keep punishing yourself, but you don’t. If you like her, you
should go for it.”
It
was that easy for Tristan, but it wasn’t for me. There was too much I’d have to
admit. Too much she would have to find out. Too much she would have to get past.
It wasn’t worth going for when that was coming eventually.
Besides,
I wasn’t sure I even remembered how.
Kate
The
first day sober after a binge, is there anything worse? I was about to find
out. After missing Civics class yesterday, I had no choice but to go to Professor
Parker’s office hours. Part of his job as advisor was to be available if I had
any questions, or problems, or needs Hudson wasn’t meeting. In college-take-one
I would have blown it off. I didn’t have that luxury anymore.
I
stepped in from the cold and checked my hair and makeup in the glass front door
of the law building.
Why did I care what I looked like? It wasn’t like I was going on a
date with this guy
. I pushed past my
reflection. I was nineteen, a freshman, and his student. I’d already acted like
one, missing class because of a two day hangover.
Having
had more than my fair share over the years, I’d learned hangovers were your
body’s way of keeping you out of commission so you didn’t have to deal with what
an ass you were the night before. Usually it was only the night before, but I
guess I’d needed two full days to recover from the ass I’d made of myself.
Professor
Parker’s office was stuck at the end of the second floor next to a bunch of
other offices of the same size. I wondered why someone with a law degree would
choose to be a professor, especially at a small school like this one.
Maybe
being a lawyer wasn’t the answer for everyone.
I
could only hope it was for me. I didn’t have the time to change my mind anymore.
My mother was always talking about my biological clock, but now I had a new
timer—hitting thirty. If my decision wasn’t the right one, what would I do
then?
If I
couldn’t keep myself in check here, what would I do next?
“Ahh,”
Professor Parker said, glancing up from his computer as I entered his office. “The
sick roommate must be feeling better.”
I
nodded, hoping that would be the end of it.
“Your
friend Mr. Blackwood told me you needed to take her to the health center.” He took
off his tortoise shell glasses so I noticed his eyes, his steady hands.
Friend.
How many twenty-nine-year-old
women had a twenty-two-year-old male friend who they’d given a dental cleaning
to with their tongue?
“He’s
my RA,” I said, hovering in the doorway.
“Are
you going to sit, or should we do this standing up?”
His
words threw me into a memory of David and me in his office doing it against his
desk—shaking his pens and paperclips, sending his briefs and legal pads sailing
to the floor.
I
wondered if Professor Parker made me think about David because I actually did
miss having sex with him, or because he was the only guy I’d spoken to in over
a week with a 401(k).
I
hurriedly sat down in the chair across from him. Put my hands on my knees and
waited. Something about the way he talked made me want to do whatever he asked,
like it had been with David.
I’d
liked it when David told me what to do. Not just because he was older and my
boss. His demands gave direction to a directionless world.
Professor
Parker’s brown eyes moved over me like molasses in the desk light, his
perfectly trimmed moustache cocked above his grinning lips. He might be a law professor,
but in his kingdom he was still king.
“Missing
the second day would usually be grounds for never being allowed to call me
Greyson.” He eased into a smile. “Mr. Blackwood saved you.”
“He’s
just my RA,” I repeated, a strange flurry in my chest. What did Professor
Parker care what we were? What did I care what he thought we were?
“At
least I know it wasn’t an excuse for being hung over or something,” he replied,
“because you don’t drink.”
“You
remembered,” I said, even though clearly I hadn’t kept my promise. Clearly I
was
still
a little hung over from Saturday night.
“A
freshman rarely makes a declaration like that,” he said, lacing his hands
together.
Probably
because there was no way in hell they would ever be able to keep it. What a
jerk I was, going around telling everyone who would listen how I didn’t drink.
What an even bigger jerk having to take it back.
“I
guess I’m not just any freshman,” I said, forcing myself to smile.
I
wasn’t, but not for the reason I was trying to make Professor Parker believe,
make everyone believe with my new wardrobe and doctored transcripts and lies. I
had the knowledge of the future weighing me down. How crappy life could be
after college. The whole point of coming back here was to make my life the way
I wished it could be. How badly I’d wanted to do things right the first time around;
unfortunately my past seemed determined to chase me no matter what I did to
hide from it.
Of
course, going to a frat party wasn’t hiding.
He
sat back in his chair. “I take it school is treating you well besides your roommate’s
mysterious illness?”
I
nodded, even though who was I kidding?
“Well,”
he said, “if anything starts happening, you let me know.” He took out a sheet
of paper with some questions printed on it. “Normally I would send you away to
fill this out on your own, but I wouldn’t want you to have to deal with your
roommate needing an amputation of something and forget.”
At
the top it read
Orientation Intake Form
, and based on some of the first
questions: Age and High School Graduation Date particularly, I wished I was
filling it out on my own, because from the beginning the whole thing would be
more lies.
“Name?”
he asked. “No, wait, I know that one,” he smiled and wrote it in. “Age?” He
looked from the top of my forehead down to my waist.
“Nineteen,”
I replied, keeping my voice level.
“No
wonder you seem so mature,” he said, writing it in. “It’s amazing what a year
can do.”
Even
more amazing what ten can do.
“Major?”
“Pre-law.”
“I knew
that one too,” he said, writing it in. “Reasons for major?”
“Reasons?”
I stalled, because how was I supposed to say,
I fucked up my life and I need
a career now. I can’t take Women’s Studies like Dawn and spend five years after
graduation trying to figure out what kind of a job that can get me.
“Yes,”
he said, glancing from the paper, “what interests you about the law?”
I
also couldn’t give my ultimate reason, giving David a heart attack when I walked
into the courtroom in my Prada suit and Jimmy Choo heels, my lipstick so red,
my bun so tight, my eyelashes like mascaraed daggers. “I like solving things.”
It
was the truth. Cases were so clear-cut. There was a right and a wrong side. The
law didn’t get all jumbled up like life where, when things were wrong they
still felt right.
“Ah,
a puzzle lover, that’s why I got into law myself.”
“So,
why are you teaching it?” I asked, immediately regretting it when his lips
puckered.
“Am
I answering the questions, or are you?” he said, his lips still tight.
“Sorry,”
I said. It was easy to remember my nineteen-year-old role with Dawn, especially
with Carter, considering I’d jumped him, but with Professor Parker
twenty-nine-year-old Kate was peeking through.
He
sat back in his chair and handed me the paper. “Maybe you should finish this
yourself.”
At
least I wouldn’t have to keep lying to his face.
I
headed out of his office and into the hallway when my phone vibrated with a
text, Veronica asking me the latest.
What
was there to tell her other than I was failing? Not my classes yet, but in
everything I wanted to transform myself into here. Every change I thought I
could make. Hopefully Saturday night had been a blip. Hopefully I could use
what I had let happen with Steph and Alex and almost happen with Carter as a
lesson.
I
wasn’t sure why the last ten years hadn’t been enough of one.
Clearly,
I was an idiot. Sending a drunk back to college was like sending a fat ass to a
fucking bakery.
Being
here was supposed to propel me back in time. But I was still just me trying to
make something out of the mess that was my life. Being in college again made it
hard to deny there was probably a lot more mess where that came from.
I
took out my phone and read Veronica’s text again.
What’s up you crazy co-ed? I miss you.
My lungs
ached. I missed her too. I missed New York, my apartment, and even David.
Seeing how I’d been acting since I arrived, I was starting to understand that
perhaps he’d had no choice in doing what he’d done. It was keep holding me up
or finally let me fall. I couldn’t blame him, but I wouldn’t last three more
years if I kept blaming myself either. I wouldn’t even last another week.
I
put the phone back in my pocket and headed toward the library. It would be better
to respond to Veronica after I’d done something a crazy co-ed wouldn’t do.
It
wasn’t even dinnertime but it was already dark, and the old Kate would have
already been three wines into happy hour. The new Kate was going to finish her
reading for class tomorrow.
Or
die of thirst trying.