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Authors: Natasha Stories

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"Um, no thanks," I said, sipping
at my coke. "It looks a little messy."

"What's wrong with messy?" Drew
grinned, as he scooped some up, too. "C'mon, try it. You'll love it."

Reluctantly, I dipped my fingers in, doing
my best not to get melted cheese on them. I managed to snag just a couple of
fries, with a little cheese on them, and bring them to my mouth. I'm sure my
eyes popped nearly out of my skull at the first delicious taste.

"Omigod," I said, unconsciously
echoing one of Ri's favorite expressions. "I can't believe how fabulous
this is. Where have you been all my life?" I addressed the fries.

Drew laughed, a great booming sound that
echoed off the walls and ceiling and drew stares from people all around us.
"Why haven't you ever tasted them before?" he asked.

With a quelling look at Rihanna, I shook my
head. "Just never got around to it," I said.

We finished the cheese fries in record time
and before they were gone, we were all laughing like maniacs. Drew was a very
likable character, not at all the snobbish elite athlete that characterized the
football team. When Rihanna started talking about his NBA potential, he put a
stop to it quickly.

"Hey, kiddo, that's only if I'm very
lucky and the Utes have a couple of winning seasons. I'm too small for the NBA,
so it's going to really take luck."

I goggled at him. Too small? He was at
least six-foot-six, and built, as the cowboys would say, like a brick
shithouse. Or, maybe that was only for girls and there was a more appropriate
word for guys. Whatever, Drew was just as shredded from the front view as the
back. I wanted to ask him if he worked out, but some measure of common sense
told me I'd sound like a complete idiot if I did. There was no question that he
worked out. I remembered his quick transition from one end of the court to the
other and wondered if his legs showed the same kind of muscle definition. I
knew his calves did, but the long basketball shorts hid his thighs. Thinking of
thighs made me remember Justin's between mine, and I blushed, apropos of
nothing.

Drew stopped talking and looked at me as
the slow flush climbed my neck into my face. I was looking anywhere but at him,
hoping he hadn't noticed, and that he had said something that would account for
it, but truthfully, I didn't know what he'd just said.

Ri looked from Drew to me and a sly grin
spread across her face. "Drew, I think she likes you."

I threw her a horrified glance and fled to
the ladies' room, planning to stay there until she came to get me and tell me
we were going home. I couldn't face Drew after that little episode.

~~~

I wasn't yet ready to speak to Rihanna
after her betrayal, so we walked back to the dorm in silence, except for her
occasionally humming part of a song that I didn't know. She broke the silence
once we got to the room.

"Why are you being so pissy?" she
demanded.

"Seriously, Ri, you don't know?"

"No! Why shouldn't I give Drew the
perfectly obvious clue that you like him? You do, don't you?"

"That's beside the point. It was
embarrassing."

"Fuck you, bitch," she replied,
her usual disagreement-ending phrase. There was absolutely nothing I could say
back that would be anywhere near adequate. We were still not speaking the next
day, so I got plenty of studying done and even started on my term paper for
English Lit, due right after the Thanksgiving break. I was hoping to finish it
before, so I'd have nothing to do over the break but play with Gracie and visit
with my sisters and Charity.

Monday morning I strode into English class,
determined to ignore everyone's stares and whispers. It had been a week, and
they ought to be onto some other piece of juicy gossip by now. Alicia nodded at
me as she sat in the desk next to mine, and I gave her a cheery smile. I had
busied myself opening the textbook to today's reading when I realized that a
buzz of excitement had overtaken the room. I looked up to find Justin advancing
on my position, at the back of the room. I had a moment of near panic, and then
steeled myself for whatever was to come.

"Ms. Nielsen, may I impose on you to
sit closer to the front? It's difficult to hear your voice all the way back
here when I call on you," he said. I stared at him for a moment, his warm
expression belying the previous week of ignoring me. Was that all it was? He
didn't call on me because he couldn't hear my responses? In a bit of a daze, I
rose and followed him back up the aisle, as the whispering grew louder. When we
came to an empty seat about halfway up, he gestured for me to take it, and I
obeyed without question. Justin continued to the front of the room, and calmly
asked the first question, resting his eyes on me as if he expected me to raise
my hand.

I was aware of the weight of most of the eyes
in the class, staring at me while I thought about answering. Finally, with no
other takers, I raised my hand and Justin called on me. I didn't know whether
my answer was on point, as I was still in a fog of wonder, but when I finished
speaking, he gave me the response that I used to live for.

"Excellent answer, Ms. Nielsen. Thank
you."

Gradually, the classroom settled down and
others began to participate. I relaxed as well. Whatever happened after this,
Justin had managed to normalize my classroom experience, and for that, I was
grateful. For the first time in a week, I began to believe I'd be able to
finish out the semester in this class.

When he slid into his usual seat at my
table in the Student Union, I just stared at him.

"Hi, Janey," he said, as if the
last week and a half had never happened.

"Hi," I answered.

"Good answer in class today," he
remarked.

"Thanks," I said. "Are we
going to talk about what happened?"

"What do you think happened?" he
asked, as if he genuinely didn't know.

"Justin, what the hell?" I
demanded, released at last from my confusion.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Lowering my voice, I leaned toward him.
"You take me to dinner, fuck my brains out, and then ignore me for a week
and now you want to go back to being coffee buddies?" I was particularly
proud of remembering to use Rihanna’s phrase for our night of sex.

Justin's face froze. "That's a bit
crude for you, isn't it Janey? I thought you had more class."

"I'm sorry that's a problem for you.
I'm just not used to being treated like a…a used towel," I finished, my
vocabulary inadequate for the bubble of venom that twisted my stomach.

"Janey, I never promised you anything
other than dinner and a good time," he observed, sitting back calmly with
a look of surprise pasted on his face.

"Well, you managed to keep that
promise," I answered, the bitterness of the truth making it difficult to
get the words out. "So now I'm just another notch on your belt?"

"Don't be that way. I really enjoy
talking to you over coffee. Can't we still be friends?"

The gall of the man drew my inner bitch
like a magnet. "Not if you were the last fucking man on earth," I
declared, rising so abruptly I knocked over the chair. The last thing I saw of
him was his smug smiling face. He'd gotten what he wanted from me; first sex
and now my leaving him alone.

I'd been angry all day, skipped math class
and only going to music because I thought I'd be able to relax while listening
to the classical music we were studying. Unfortunately, the TA played
Stravinsky, which left me twitchy. Maybe it was the way I slammed the door, or
maybe it was because I threw my backpack on the floor and myself on the bed
that made Rihanna notice right away that I was angry when I got back to the
dorm that afternoon.

"What happened?" she asked. Given
my mood, it was a brave thing to do.

"He wants to be friends," I said,
heavy on the last word.

"Well, girlfriend, what did I tell you
about dating your professor?" I sat up quickly, ready to go across the
room and tear her hair out, but the truth of her words made me pause.

"You know," I said, defeated,
"I could almost handle it if he just kept ignoring me. But, he made a big
deal in class about moving me closer to the front so he could hear my answers,
and then he stopped by for coffee…just like none of it ever happened. And he's
not even sorry!" My voice had risen to a wail by the time I finished
speaking. Then Rihanna came over, sat on the bed with me and leaned in for a
hug.

"That stinks, Janey, but you're not
the first, and you won't be the last. The only thing to do is forget it and
move on. Pining over him is just gonna let him win."

I felt the corners of my mouth turn up for
the first time since morning. "You're right," I said. I'd botched my
first adult relationship, if you could call it that. Other girls my age had
been through similar situations half a dozen times before they got to college;
I just wasn't being realistic. Then I remembered Charity's warning to be
careful, and that I'd be home for Thanksgiving break in three weeks, and
slumped.

"What now?" Rihanna asked.

"I slept with him, Ri," I said.
"I'm so ashamed of myself."

"Omigod, you're not going to go all
Molly Mormon on me, are you?"

"What? What did you call me?"

"Never mind. Listen sister, this is
the twenty-first century. You can't be stoned or burned at the stake or
whatever for sleeping with a guy when you're not a couple. As long as you make
sure you're protected, you can have sex with anyone you want for whatever
reason you think is good enough. I know girls who make it a point never to
sleep with a guy twice, and they get laid every weekend. Get over yourself."

"Ri," I started, my eyes wide,
but she cut me off.

"No, not me. But I've had a few
flings, and nothing bad has happened. Think of it as recreation, you'll be
happier."

I wasn't sure I could do that, but I had to
admit it would solve my current problem if I could reframe my attitude. Instead
of being pathetic for having sex with a known player on the first date, I was a
sophisticated woman of the world who knew what she wanted. Yeah, that was it.

Okay, it was going to take some work.

CHAPTER SIX

My sweet red CRV made the drive to the
ranch through a snowstorm easy, if not fun. I called from the highway that I
was almost there, and when I pulled into the parking area, I could see Janet
holding Gracie up to the windowed part of the kitchen door to wave at me.
Leaving my luggage in the car, I ran to them and snatched my daughter from
Janet's arms for a huge hug. Grace giggled and patted my face with her chubby
little hands as I darted in for kisses all over her precious face.

"I missed you, love," I said.

"Mithed you, too, mommy."

I noticed the difference even a month made
in her sentence structure. If I weren't careful, I'd graduate college with a
full-grown daughter I didn't know. Not for the first time, I wondered if it
wouldn't be better to have her with me, but it always came back to what was
best for Grace. I knew that being cared for by a loving aunt and extended
family was better than day-care, no matter how good it was. Not to mention,
that a child this age would make it difficult to study. No, this was best for
her, even if it broke my heart.

Thanksgiving morning dawned cold and sunny,
the new layer of snow sparkling like diamonds. I bundled Gracie up in warm
clothes and went for a ride on one of the older mares that could be trusted to carry
us gently and not bolt. Tyler was in the barn that morning, greeting us with
good cheer and offering to saddle Bessie Smith for me.

"Thanks, Ty. That would be great! How
have things been since last time I was here?"

"Cody took half of the young hands
over to his place to learn to train rodeo horses, and a couple of new guys came
in. Otherwise, not much."

"Didn't you want to go to
Cody's?" I asked.

"Naw, figured I'd stick around here
and see if you turned up again," he grinned.

I grinned back. "Well, here I am, what
are you going to do about it?"

"I reckon I'll invite you out here to
the barn where it's warm and we can set a spell and talk, after you put your
little'un to bed."

"I'd like that Ty. Consider it a
date."

His grin was as wide as the barn door as he
helped me into the saddle and handed Gracie up to me. "Y'all be careful,
now."

My talents didn't lie in the culinary arts,
so I stayed well out of the way as Janet, Charity and Amber labored to put a
sumptuous Thanksgiving meal on the table. My turn would come afterward;
cleaning up the kitchen after the men had devoured the feast.

Russ had declared his intention of using
the theater room for football viewing, and that any hand who wished to join him
was welcome, so there would also be snacks to serve later in the day. Janet
wouldn't cook a separate meal, just the mid-day feast that would be served a
little later than usual. These were the Thanksgiving traditions that I'd come
to love in the three years since Russ brought us to the ranch.

Much later that evening, with Gracie safely
stowed in her bed and asleep, I wrapped a heavy shawl around my sweater and ran
out to the barn, which was warmer even than the house. Tyler was waiting for me
in his holiday finery, a new pair of jeans and a red plaid shirt made of
flannel. He was even wearing his dress boots, as evidenced by the lack of dung
on the soles. He sprang to his feet from the bale of hay where he'd been
sitting when I opened the door, came to my side, and escorted me back to the
sitting area he'd fashioned from more stacked bales and a few horse blankets.

We were awkward with each other, neither
knowing what to say to the other at first. Then Tyler asked about college, and
I began to tell him all about campus. His eyes were shining when I wound down.

"Tyler, have you ever thought about
going to college?" I asked.

"Shoot, I don't have the cash for
that," he answered.

"But, if you did…would you want to
go?"

"I guess so. I mean, I cain't work for
Russ all my life," he said. "I want a family, and a home of my
own."

"What would you study?" I
pressed.

"I'm not sure. Something agricultural.
Animal husbandry, maybe," he answered.

"Why don't you ask Russ to help you
go?"

"Aw, Janey, I couldn't do that."

"Why not?"

"I just couldn't."

We talked for a little while longer, until
he felt comfortable enough to put his arm around me. I leaned into him, which
emboldened him to kiss me, and for a while longer, we kissed. They were
innocent kisses, sweet and warm, the kind I'd missed by not having a normal
teen life. When his lips became hungrier, I drew back.

"Ty, I'm sorry…"

"No, it's okay. Thanks for comin' out
with me, Miss Janey." He'd gone back to the formal mode of address that
most of the older hands used with us, and it made me sad. I knew it meant he thought
that I felt I was too good for him. Nothing was further from the truth. The
truth was, I wasn't good enough.

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