“You got two weeks left. I think Imma do something special for you.”
I snuggled into the covers. Charles knew I was awake even though I hadn’t moved or opened my eyes. Being his little spoon had become my one of my new favorite things. This was the first time I had seen him in a week and a half— preparing for the end of program activities and finishing my research paper left no time for anything else. I looked out the window noticing how bright it was.
“What time is it?”
“Nine thirty,” Charles answered, pulling me closer.
“WHAT?” I sat up, “You didn’t go to practice today?”
“Nope.” Charles tried to pull me closer.
I got out of the bed and rushed into the bathroom. Charles was fortunate enough to have the master bedroom in the house on Chestnut St. “I’ve got a meeting at ten! Why didn’t you wake me up?” I was pissed and I could tell Charles was trying to maintain his cool.
“You were exhausted.” I heard him say as I got cleaned up as quickly as I could. I would have to see my advisor in the same outfit from yesterday. “Aargh!!!”
“Chill, boo.” Charles leaned back on the headboard.
“Chill?!” No he didn’t… “I will not ‘chill,’ having to go see Dr. Dennis in the same clothes without the edits she told me to do.”
“So call and tell her you can’t come. Play sick.”
This boy has lost his mind. Play sick? With Dr. Alice Dennis? This lady is practically a superhero in literary research. Just working with her will do wonders for my CV. I can’t believe he just said that. I had found a short sleeve button down in his closet. “Can you please go get the iron?”
“Aye, don’t look at me like that. What’s the big deal?”
“She has Sonia Sanchez on speed dial.”
Charles chuckled as he got up and exited the room. “I don’t even know who that is,” He left and returned a few seconds later, “but whatever. You mad at me when I should be mad at you.”
I ignored him as I brushed my hair into what looked like an intentional messy bun. I watched him in the mirror plug in the iron, waiting for it to heat as he straightened the shirt. My heart melted just a little. This arrangement was supposed to be casual. He wouldn’t alter his lifestyle and I wouldn’t let it interfere with my research. Yet here we were, acting like a couple.
“What are you talking about, I didn’t do anything.”
“Exactly.” When I didn’t say anything he kept talking, “You fell asleep.”
I turn to look at him, “So?”
“Right in the middle of me going down on you.”
No. I thought we finished. Didn’t we? I’m having trouble remembering the last thing I remember. Charles offered me a drink, I declined. We started watching a movie then we started making out. I remember the kissing…then nothing until this morning.
“We didn’t have sex.”
“Apparently.” I almost felt bad. Sex was my primary purpose with Charles. He’s good at it. But he was good at other things, too. Things I shouldn’t know or care about. The guilt gnawed at me. I was falling for him…and it infuriated me. He handed me the shirt and I put it on; it passed for a decent shirt dress.
Charles pushed past me into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door. I wanted to argue but just didn’t have time.
“Screw you.” I stormed out the room and the house. Halfway through my angry commute back to campus, I questioned my decision—I was still pissed, but the heat was relentless. I kept on at this extended walk of shame until I see Brian’s car in my peripheral pull next to me and slow down.
Dammit! The last person I wanted to see was Charles, but I was no fool. We continued in silence until he pulled in front of the Fine Arts building. I didn’t have the energy to deal with him at the present moment, so I mumbled a thank you before getting out the car. After my meeting—if you can call it that—I went back to my room to take a proper shower then headed to the library. I’ve decided to focus all of my energy on this paper.