“It’s not that simple.” I sighed. Because it couldn’t be. One didn’t simply drop everything to please someone else. It made no sense. No matter how tempting Weston looked, I felt like I should carry a certain dose of skepticism. For safety. No one was here to look out for me. Ari was too far away, and my parents were too caught up in their own lives to pick my pieces if I fell apart.
“What’s not simple?” Ari paused her unraveling. The blue yarn pooled around her knees. It looked like it was drowning her.
“You think I should loc my hair like yours?” I tried to change the subject.
“I would wholeheartedly support that decision. You’d look like a goddess,” she told me. “But, back to the topic at hand: this Weston guy sounds like he just wants a good time. Why deny him or yourself some consensual bliss?”
“He’s a football player.” I paused for emphasis.
Ari threw up her hands. “What is that if not a bonus? Talk about stamina.”
“On probation,” I continued. “He just avoided charges for… putting someone in the hospital. Which means he must have connections in high places. I don’t know. Seems like a whole lot of complicated.”
She bit her lip and resumed unraveling. “Okay, complicated does warrant cause for concern and precaution. Especially because of your mental health.”
“So, you see what I’m saying?”
“Kind of.” She nodded. A few of her locks fell from her bun. “Nevertheless, I think this could work. If you just decide to keep your distance when necessary.”
“You think I could balance that? Have someone bring me to an orgasm and just not care the rest of the time?”
“It’s worth a shot. You deserve some fun,” Her tone was soft and kind. I’d never taken one of her yoga classes, but I was sure she used the same voice when she was convincing people to breathe in positivity.
“Maybe.” I sighed as I finished my last twist.
“Okay, in other news,” Ari went on. “Have you decided what you’re going to do for the summer?”
I shook my head. “Let’s talk more about the unicorn. He’s less complicated.”
Ari gave me a sympathetic look. “You know you can come here whenever you’d like. I can pay for the flight. You could pay me back by being my live-in research assistant. I have a huge lead on a story that’s probably going to take me all summer to write.”
“No, I’m fine here,” I lied and started playing with my phone. “I’m going to talk to my cousin to see if I can crash on her couch.”
“How many people does your cousin have living with her?”
I pressed my fingers on my eyes. “Look, I don’t want to think about this right now.”
“But we should talk about it now, so we don’t have to rush to figure out a plan later,” Ari reminded me.
“I’ll figure something out before the semester’s over,” I promised. Before she could say anything else, I added, “I have to go now. I have a paper due soon that needs editing.”
Ari opened her mouth to say something else, but I disconnected before she could. A wave of guilt sunk over me. I should have listened, or at least waited to let her say good night. Figuring out where to stay during break should have been high on my list of priorities. Except, I hated the idea of asking Ari to pay for a plane ticket. In our relationship, it always felt like she was going the extra mile. I wanted to be less of a burden and more of a friend to her.
I picked up my phone to distract myself from regret and found myself opening Weston’s schedule. It felt like an invasion of privacy to have a play-by-play of someone’s week.
What are you doing tonight?I scrolled to today’s date and time. My stomach fluttered when I realized he’d scheduled a run.
From nine to ten, Weston went on a jog. I imagined him somewhere on campus, wearing a thin t-shirt and sweats while blasting music in earbuds. Imaginary Weston was sweaty, breathless, and tense. His muscles flexed with every step that pounded against the pavement. Undoubtedly, his lips would be parted, sucking in air and pushing it out. I touched my lips, trying to mimic the pressure of his skin on mine.
I wanted to know more about him. Not just this bad boy football player image he’d constructed on campus. There was something behind his smile and charm. When he looked at me, he noticed me. He listened to me and altered course whenever I changed my mind without making me feel like I was wrong or annoying. Yes, the complications of whatever he did in his free time made my mind wander to worst-case scenarios but he could be worth giving a shot.
Maybe we could be good for each other. Maybe his rules would help me become more assertive. I prayed for another way to distract me from my tears. When I went to therapist after therapist and took yoga class after class, I was hunting for something to fill that void. Maybe Weston was the answer to the question I’d been asking. I wouldn’t know until I tried.
Chapter 12
“Showme something that’ll make me trust you?” I had asked earlier today in Design 2. It took the whole class for me to build up enough courage to even look in Weston’s direction. Once Professor Ida dismissed us, I let the question drop from my lips, without giving it a second thought.
Weston looked up from his laptop with surprise. He’d barely said a word since he sat down, only glancing in my direction once to ask how my day was going. A smile slowly spread across his lips at my request. He gave me two choices: pick the time and place. or let him surprise me.
