Chapter 29
After a week of what turned out to be a nasty sinus infection, I’m finally starting to feel like a human again instead of a tin can in one of those large crusher machines. As satisfying as those videos are, I would like to never feel that way again.
Not only did I have an absolutely horrendous week, I also completely missed the entire first week of classes for the fall semester.
Ben offered to go sit in all my classes and record the lectures, but I would rather have another full week of tin-can-crushing headaches than sending him into my classes like that.
A full body shiver runs through me just thinking about how I would explain that to my professors.
The fact that he offered, though…
And that damn soup. It was really good soup with the perfect kind of noodles.
It’s been one date and I’m already entirely too close to just saying “Fuck it!” and accepting his proposal for real.
Which would be idiotic. Rash. Insane.
Right?
Right.
“Good morning, Ms. Russell. Glad to have you back this week,” my forensic psychology professor, Dr. Daly, greets me.
“Thank you, please let me know the best way to make up what I missed last week.”
He nods genially, but I get the sense that he’s annoyed by my request. “I’ll email over the slide deck, but I would suggest schmoozing one of your classmates into giving you a copy of their notes.
Our first assignment is due on Friday, and the first of eight application based assessments will be next week. ”
Lovely. Jumping right in, I see.
I’ve spent so much time with Ben lately that I didn’t have the opportunity to comb through each syllabus or skim my textbooks before the semester started, like I usually do. With this grant on the line, I really need to get my shit together so I don’t have to go back to working at the coffee shop.
“I will be sure to catch up immediately, Dr. Daly. Thank you for sending those slides over.” I turn to face the classroom.
It’s a much smaller group of students now that we’ve split into our respective cohorts.
In a shock to no one, I haven’t spent much time making friends with my classmates, but right now I need someone’s notes.
I decide on a beautiful Black woman with vibrant purple braids who I’ve definitely been in classes with before but I’ve never said a word to.
For some reason, Ben’s voice pops into my head with, “You can do this, Red. You aren’t as offputting as you think.
” I can imagine the wink that would accompany this encouragement.
Walking over, I rehearse the introduction in my head. Hi, I’m Colette. We’ve been in classes together before. Will you remind me of your name?
Sliding into the seat next to her, I say, “Hi, Colette!”
Shit. Fuck. No.
“Sorry,” I laugh and, thank God, she laughs with me. I think. “I mean, hi, I’m Colette. Or Cole. What’s your name? I know we’ve been in class together so I apologize if we’ve met before.”
I can feel the flush creeping up my neck which is one of the main reasons I avoid social interactions. My constantly color-changing skin is a neon sign above my head that says, SHE’S UNCOMFORTABLE!
“Hey, Cole, I’m Sahara.” She laughs again.
“And don’t worry, I definitely did not remember your name either so thanks for introducing yourself.
Those things are always awkward.” She leans in conspiratorially.
“Like, we’re all supposed to just know each other?
They don’t do get-to-know-you games on the first day of grad school. ”
I get a vision of all of us standing in a circle, passing a ball around so I can hear Joe Schmo tell me his fun fact is that he went fly fishing in Alaska this summer. Gross.
“Thank God we don’t have to do that. I think that would cause me to drop out of grad school completely.”
“Hell, me too,” Sahara adds, toothy grin on full display. “Well, to get it out of the way, my name is Sahara—you already knew that—I’m twenty-five from Pittsburgh. I did my undergrad at Penn State, and I’m a dog person. I think those are the highlights.”
“Cole, thirty… from here, actually. I did my undergrad at Stanford and stayed out in California as an engineer for a few years before deciding to completely upend my life and start grad school. I’m also a dog person, you can come meet my rescue sometime.”
“Oh my God, you have a dog?” Sahara squeals.
“Yes, his name is Ernest and he’s only got three legs. He’s the only man I like.” Which used to be true but feels more and more like a lie. “I’ll let you meet him, but can I ask a favor in return?”
“Anything. I need some puppy snuggles to lower my cortisol levels.”
“Can I borrow your notes from last week? I was out sick and now I feel like I’ll never be able to catch up.”
“Easiest yes of my life.” She grins. “So is Ernest the only man in your life? Or woman, or person.”
The blush is back.
“Oh my God,” Sahara continues. “He’s not! Is it someone in our program?” She looks around the classroom as if she’s trying to test her investigative skills.
“No! Stop looking! No, it’s…” It’s what? Dr. Daly starts projecting his slide deck, saving me from having to continue. “Complicated,” I finish.
Sahara opens up her laptop, looking at me sideways. “Meeting Ernest, and a girls night. Those are my terms.”
And that’s how I end up making another friend.
Thea, Sahara, and I are in the middle of a rousing game of Yahtzee when the front door to my apartment opens.
“Red, why is your door unlocked? Anyone could walk in, it’s dangerous! Don’t they teach you that in—oh. Hi, ladies!”
Benoit Bardot is back to being the bane of my existence.
“Benjamin, what the fuck? Just because the door is unlocked doesn’t mean you can just waltz in!”
“That’s exactly what it means.” He grins. He’s got his glasses on and his hair is floppier than usual, which is doing funny things to the cadence of my breathing.
Massaging my temples, I eye Sahara and Thea, who of course became fast friends. Right now they are both looking ecstatic to see the very topic of conversation I’ve been avoiding all night.
Sahara stands up first, moving Ernest from his spot on her lap. “The famous Benjamin, so nice to meet you. Sahara.” She points to herself. “I’m in class with Cole.”
“Famous you say?” Ben asks, shaking Sahara’s hand.
“Well, not as famous as I’d like you to be. Cole is keeping her lips sealed.” She narrows her eyes at me playfully.
Ben tsks before bopping me on the nose, not at all bothered when I bat his hand away. “You know I like those lips nice and open.”
“How you and Jules can be identical in looks and so incredibly different in personality is astonishing,” Thea chuckles.
“I think Jules got all of the brain cells,” I chime in, to an exaggerated frown from Ben.
“Wait.” Sahara holds up her hands. “Explain this dynamic again? You”—she points at Thea—“are with his brother? Twin?”
“You know Dr. Bardot from the Marriage and Family Therapy department?” I ask.
Sahara tilts her head. “The sex therapy professor? Yeah.”
I flourish my hands toward Ben. “This is one of her sons, Ben. He has a twin, Jules, who is the father of that fetus.” Thea rubs her belly for emphasis.
“Shit, I see the resemblance now,” Sahara says, nodding toward Ben. “What’s it like growing up with a mom who is a sex therapist?”
“Enlightening,” Ben deadpans.
“Dr. Bardot is much more interesting than Ben,” I say. “We’ll have to invite her next time. Benjamin”—I turn toward him—“thank you for coming, you can see yourself out.”
Instead of listening, because he never listens, he pulls out a chair and sits down next to me.
“Nope, nope nope nope. We are having a girls’ day and last I heard, you identified as a man.”
“Have you confirmed?” Thea waggles her eyebrows suggestively.
“Thoroughly. In all aspects,” Ben confirms with a wink.
“Out!” I cry.
“Fine, but I did come over for a reason. We are booked at a cabin in upstate New York for next weekend. I’ll pick you up on Friday after your classes.” Ben blows me a kiss before finally exiting my apartment.
“That could have been a text,” I mumble to the closed door. When I turn around, both Thea and Sahara’s eyebrows are sky high.
“Complicated, huh?” Sahara laughs. “Doesn’t seem complicated. Seems like you’re dating Dr. Bardot’s hot son.”
“We aren’t—” dating. But that’s not true, is it?
“Aren’t what, Cole?” Thea asks, her voice gentle.
Plopping down into my chair, I sigh so loudly Ernest wakes up from his nap.
“What was the whole engagement thing about?” Thea pushes. Meeting her eyes, I see why she’s such a great mother. She’s questioning but not in a judgemental way. Curious because she cares.
“Engagement thing?” Sahara pipes up, glancing down at my empty ring finger.
So, for the first time, I tell someone about the pact Ben and I made twelve years ago. The pact I thought Ben had forgotten about until about ten months ago. The pact that apparently he was dead serious about calling in.
Thea and Sahara gasp and swoon in all of the right places, it’s freaky.
“So, he’s in love with you,” Sahara concludes.
“What?! No. No, I mean—”
Thea’s laugh interrupts me. “Men don’t just propose, Cole. He might not have admitted it to you yet, but obviously he’s all in here.”
I think back to all of our interactions over the past few months. He is all in. He’s shown that time and time again—hell, he’s said as much multiple times. But not like that. Right? He’s not in love.
“I—” I have no idea what to say. That Ben box in my brain is so far past being destroyed. I’m currently trying to repackage it, but I’m not there yet. I feel like I’m still missing something, and I hate that feeling.
“I feel so in over my head here,” I admit.
Thea’s hand slides over mine. “Ditto.” She smiles. “These Bardots are hard to resist, aren’t they? Despite our best efforts.”
“Are you going to the cabin with him?” Sahara asks.
Of course I am. The fact that it wasn’t even a question in my mind should tell me something, but I’m still not ready to listen. I nod in answer to Sahara’s question before groaning and banging my head lightly against the table in front of me.
“What’s the holdup?” she continues. “Seems like a hot man with big dick energy wants to wife you up and take you on extravagant cabin dates. Are there any other Bardot brothers? I want one.”
“There is another one, actually,” Thea chimes in. “But it seems he’s also hopelessly in love with a woman who is engaged to another man.”
Sahara waves her hands in front of her face. “Sounds messy, no thanks.”
“It’s all fucking messy,” I mutter from my face-down position.
Someone hums in acknowledgement.
“So…” Thea starts. “Can we see the ring?”