Chapter 33
Henry
Venus spills out of the Environmental Sciences Building and abruptly halts her rush when she finds me there, waiting for her. Her brow is pinched and smudged with dirt along the temples.
“Hey, how’d it go?” I ask with a smile, though my heart drops at the sight of her bothered expression.
Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out. The crease to her brow deepens, and she fidgets with her jewelry.
She’s on the step above me, putting us nearly at eye level.
Her obvious distress makes me think that I’ll need to give better advice, something more concrete and actionable than be yourself. “Whatever happened, we can—”
My cued-up platitudes fall to the wayside when she gives up on words and falls into my arms, silencing me with a warm, tight, full-bodied embrace.
“It was so much better,” she whispers in my ear. “Thank you.”
Her scarf tickles my cheek as I smile against her and wrap my hands around her back. “I knew you could do it.”
People filter around us, the doors to the building screech open and thud shut, but neither of us lets go.
Holding her brings a strange relief that I didn’t know I needed.
All the energy and angst of being a parent, teacher, student, and reluctant museum proprietor collapse at her feet like a house of cards finally folding. With her, I feel like I’m just Henry.
She tugs away slowly, letting her hands linger on my shoulders, and she looks confused. “I thought we were meeting at the food court.”
“My class ended early, so I thought we could walk together. You have, um…” I motion toward the dark smudges on her face, and catching my meaning, she glances at her hands, which are also dirty.
“I was running late and didn’t have time to wash my hands,” she says, still looking anguished. “It’s whiteboard marker residue—not the kindest medium. It’s also given me a splitting headache from the fumes.”
Her hands go to her temples again, but given the smudges, she reconsiders.
“Come with me.” I take her hand and tug her to the nearest bench.
A towering crepe myrtle showers us with tiny pink flowers, carried away by the breeze.
I reach to wipe them off the seat, but she plops on top of them, uncaringly.
Pink blossoms drift into her long hair while she closes her eyes, and damn, she looks so fucking pretty that it takes me a moment to remember why I dragged her over here.
I wipe the blossoms from my seat—Venus can pull off pink flowers in her hair or on her backside, but I’m not sure I can. I tug my messenger bag into my lap, flip it open, and rifle through my supplies.
“Drink this,” I say, handing her my reusable water bottle. She peels her hazy green eyes open long enough to accept the bottle and take a sip. I pull out my arsenal.
Venus peeks curiously as I rummage through my collection. I hand her headache meds, and she swallows them in one gulp. Then, I open a package of hand wipes.
“Are you usually this prepared?” she asks weakly.
“I’m a father, a teacher, and my mother’s son, so yeah. It’s the side effect of always having to carry inhalers, I guess,” I admit with a light shrug.
“So, it’s not just to perpetuate the damsel in distress fantasy?” she asks, somewhat warily.
“Are you in distress? Because… I can’t imagine that.”
She snickers. “No, but this is, admittedly, unfamiliar territory for me. So, maybe I need a hero.”
I grin, warmed by the thought that she might let me be her hero—if she ever needed one. “I’d like to be that guy for you.”
“My hero?” she asks, amused.
“The one who has what you need, even if you rarely need anything. Hand, please,” I say, like I do when I need to clean up Olly.
She places her dirty hand into my outstretched one.
I gently wipe it clean, and she closes her eyes again.
I take my time, massaging her fingers and edging between her rings.
When I replace the dirty wipe with a fresh one and repeat the process, I swear she moans at the touch.
I do the same for her smudged temples, bringing a sweet smile to her face as I lean in close to her.
“Thank you,” she mutters softly through her full, pink lips, and it’s a herculean effort not to brush them with mine for a gentle, teasing kiss.
“What Venus needs,” I say instead, and her smile grows. “How about we rest here until you feel better?”
I slip my arm around her, and her head drifts to my shoulder. Her hair smells like her rosemary shampoo with a strange hint of markers. Her skin is achingly soft and sun-kissed, and she’s warm, nestled into me. I feel grateful to have a reason to do this. Help her. Hold her. Be here for her.
I watch students pass, and people move in and out of the food court, academic buildings, and library, realizing I’m finally getting my wish—Venus and me, sharing a campus.
She drifts off, melting into me, and I rest my head against hers. With her in my arms, perfectly content and comfortable, I start imagining things I shouldn’t—a second chance at things we never got to do—normal couple things, like Dr. Blake mentioned.
Dating, without limits or permissions or curfews.
Family outings, like beach days with her in a bikini, and Olly relishing her beach facts while I try to keep him sunblocked and hydrated.
Dinners with Mom and Fred, when keeping the peace between them is more amusing than frustrating, because they’d have to get along eventually.
Venus, telling Olly bedtime stories.
I imagine waking up with her beside me and grinning when we hear Olly racing down the hall to tell us it’s waffle day.
A thousand cozy moments stream in my head in changing settings. Over burgers with Olly at Queens and Dreams. Watching TV under blankets on cold nights. In a tent in the rain. Anywhere and everywhere because we are all those places together.
Reality breaks in, an attempt to wreck my fantasies, but I don’t let it. Maybe I won’t get a thousand moments with Venus, but I have one now. Right now. I need to make the most of it.
I will my thoughts into hers like the flowers falling over our heads, wishful osmosis. Venus, I want more with you. More time. More us. Please, want that, too.
She startles awake with a gasp.
“It’s okay. Everything’s okay. I’m here,” I whisper automatically. “Are you alright?”
She sits up, her eyes hazy with sleep. “I’ve kept you.” She pulls her phone from her pocket, and her eyes go wide. “I’m sorry. I have office hours.”
“I’ll walk you,” I say, before she rushes off, though it’s only a few yards away. I speedwalk next to her, trying to keep up. “It’s okay if you’re a little late.”
“I know. No one usually shows up. But, I want to be responsible.”
My brows quirk at her sudden anxiety. “How’s your head?”
“Better, thank you.” She takes the stairs to the main door two at a time, like she’s more interested in running away from me than making her office hours.
“Venus,” I call from the bottom. She stops and turns around. “How about a redo tomorrow? You, me, and some very unhealthy cafeteria food?”
She softens in a sigh, but twists her bracelets. “Okay.”
“Then, it’s a date,” I say, smirking as she rushes inside.
But I don’t want to wait until tomorrow.
After visiting the food court and bookstore, I return to the Environmental Sciences Building and snake my way up to her father’s office. No one’s around. Most of the offices are closed, their lights off. But a dim light pours into the hallway. The door is ajar, so I peek inside.
Venus leans back in the desk chair, eyes closed, her feet crossed at the ankles and propped up on the corner of the desk. Her floral skirt has slipped up, revealing half of her thigh tattoo.
I knock gently. She bolts upright, sending her feet to the floor.
I grin when she looks my way. “Hey, I’m in desperate need of a botanist. I have this plant—Audrey II—and it prefers human blood. Is that normal?”
A coy smirk rises on her cheeks. “Oh, yes, very normal… if you’re trapped in a musical.”
“What do you recommend, Doctor?”
“Have you tried a blood bank?”
“Yeah, but it’s a no-go. Apparently, they don’t just hand out blood to anyone,” I scoff.
She chuckles. “Do you have a list of enemies?”
“Don’t we all?”
“Then, I suggest feeding Audrey II the people you don’t like… after you break out in song, of course.”
“I knew you’d know what to do, Doctor. May I come in?”
With a light giggle, she waves me inside, and I dare to close the door behind me.
“What are you really doing here?” she asks, as I tour Dr. Blake’s cozy, bookish, and artful office.
I glance at her over my shoulder as I eye her artwork, framed and scattered along the bookshelves—pieces of her are everywhere.
“I couldn’t wait until tomorrow.” I set the little brown bag from the cafeteria down on her desk. “I brought you lunch.”
She peers into the bag of wrapped sandwiches and chips. “Thank you.”
“Oh, and this.” I set a plastic bag down beside it.
She reaches inside and pulls out an extra-large pack of whiteboard markers—low-odor whiteboard markers. Her laughter makes my heart sing.
“Our best botanist can’t have any more headaches,” I tell her.
“Wow, you really are that guy,” she says.
“For you, yes. As long as you let me.” I remove the sandwich and chips from the paper bag and push them toward her. “Eat. It’ll make you feel better.”
Her shoulders bounce in a soft sigh as she unwraps the turkey and cheese.
My hands sink into my pockets as I lean against the door. “I want to say something.”
“Okay,” she mumbles, mouth full.
“I want the summer, Venus.”
Her brow pinches as she catches my eye.
“I want the summer with you,” I clarify. “And I don’t mean just sex... Though, obviously, I want a lot of that too.”
“Obviously,” she says, her lips barely moving as she chews her food. “But why? What do you mean exactly?”
“A new experiment—you and me together as much as possible to prove or disprove the hypothesis that we belong with each other permanently. A fuck-it experiment,” I say, thinking of Dot’s colorful advice.