Chapter 5
JESSIE
My notebook sits open on my desk. I’ve been staring at the same two words for the last thirteen minutes.
Good girl.
I wrote them down. I underlined them. I don’t know why I wrote them down exactly, but it felt like the right thing to do. Like taking notes in class. After all, last night’s session with Professor Holt was technically a class…
…right?
But if I’m being honest with myself, I didn’t write those particular words down with the intent on reviewing them later academically.
I wrote them down because when he said them, something burst inside of me.
Right behind my ribcage, down in the core of my being.
And I needed to get them down somewhere before they tore through me.
I close the notebook but instantly open it again.
Good girl.
Gasping for breath, I close it.
It’s seven-thirty in the morning, and I’ve been up since five. My body will simply not calm down. It’s humming with the aftermath of our ‘tutoring session.’ I may be no expert on anatomy, but it’s like every nerve ending in my body has been switched on somehow with no intent to switch off.
Pressing my thighs together, I feel a pulse so sharp it nearly causes me to jump. I look up at the ceiling, my gaze unfocused as I think about his hands…his mouth…the way he spoke to me…
“Ten thousand nerve endings. More than anywhere else in the human body.”
It’s such a clinical statement, but it was so erotic then. It’s even more erotic now as I think about his tongue and the way he taught me with it…
I snatch the sheets and pull them around me. This can’t happen again. He’s my professor. His profile page says he’s thirty-six years old. I’m only eighteen. There’s no way he’s actually interested in me.
Still, I can’t stop thinking about that moment with him down on his knees between my legs, explaining things to me I never knew. It’s like he walked me hand in hand into a whole new world filled with nothing but pleasure.
And he held me afterward. I felt safe wrapped up in his arms. Intoxicated as I inhaled the scent of his sweat. Smitten as I felt the beat of his heart against mine.
I’m going to go to his lecture today, of course, and I will sit in the front row because that’s my seat and if I swap, it might look like there was a reason for it. But what happened last night…cannot happen again.
I get dressed, this time pulling on a pair of jeans and a white sweater. I pull my hair into a ponytail because leaving it down makes me think about how he brushed it back with his hand. And if I think about things like that too long, I won’t be able to function during class.
I quickly chow down a protein bar, brush my teeth, and open the door.
All three of them are sitting in the common room. Waiting for me.
Becca sits on the couch with her legs crossed and a coffee in her hands, looking like a boss who’s been preparing for a sit-down with one of her employees. Dani is on the floor with a pillow in her lap, and Lourdes is leaning against the window, arms folded, an eyebrow raised at me.
“Um, good morning?” I say as I attempt to just walk past them and out the door.
“Oh, no. Sit down,” Becca says.
I sigh. “Guys, I have class in forty—"
“Sit, Jessica.” Her tone actually shocks me, and I’m sitting on the arm of the couch before I realize it.
The loaded silence is unbearable as the three of them stare at me. It’s obvious what this is about—they bought me a vibrator, and they want to know if their investment paid off.
What they don’t know is that I took it to my anatomy professor’s office, handed it to him, and let him use it on me to give me my third orgasm.
Lourdes speaks first. “You used it.”
My stomach twists. “Um, technically, yes.”
“Technically?”
“She’s glowing,” Dani whispers. “Look at her face! She’s absolutely glowing.”
“No, I’m not glowing,” I protest. “This is just my normal, angelic face.”
“You’re glowing,” she repeats.
“That’s not your normal face,” Becca interjects. “No offense, but your normal face doesn’t look like it’s just had a spa treatment in heaven.”
“What!?” I almost laugh.
“Your normal face looks like a nerdy, organized girl who’s never had an orgasm and goes to bed every night at ten-thirty.” She leans in, eyes probing. “That face did not go to bed at ten-thirty.”
“I went to bed at nine actually,” I counter.
My friends glance at each other. Becca’s eyes narrow as she looks at me. “All alone?”
What is this interrogation? I get that they want to know whether I gave their gift a shot, but I’m starting to feel like I’m in a courtroom on the stand.
“Yup.” I nod. “All by myself.”
“But…you used it,” Dani says as though it’s self-explanatory.
I shrug. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Oh my God,” Lourdes gasps.
“Jessie,” Becca says, hands flat on her knees. “Two days ago, you didn’t even know what a vibrator was—what an orgasm was. We went out and got you one, and you’re not even going to let us know if you tried it?!”
They’re all looking at me like there might be a traitor in their midst. Their expressions are all so serious. And because of that, I realize what I have to say.
“He’s a very good teacher.” I shrug.
Silence. Then the room explodes.
Dani topples sideways and covers her face with the pillow, making sounds like she’s speaking in tongues. Becca’s mouth simply falls open and stays there, and Lourdes takes a stance like a Spartan preparing for battle.
“Teacher?” she repeats. “You–you’re not serious.”
Cracking up inside, I shrug again. “Why not? He explained things very clearly and—”
“Oh my God,” Dani groans. “I don’t believe this.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait,” Becca says, cutting through the chaos. “Was it good? Seriously, Jessie. Was it good?”
Instantly, my mind fills with visions of Professor Holt’s hands, his mouth, his tongue. The way he told me to come for him and how I did. Three times. The way the whole world seemed to come apart and then back together again.
And then I smile. “Yes. It was very good.”
Becca stares at me for a long moment, almost like she doesn’t recognize me. Then she slowly nods, like she’s just witnessed something historic.
“Okay, we are going to go over this now—”
“I can’t,” I say. “I have class.”
“This conversation isn’t over!” Lourdes blurts out.
“Yeah, we’re gonna need details, Jessie,” Dani adds. “Like, how did this happen, what the hell happened?”
“I drew a diagram,” I say. “It’s in my notebook. Sort of like an anatomical sketch I did from memory when I got home.”
I guess I didn’t realize how insane that was until I see the three of them staring at me with identical expressions of amused shock.
“She made a diagram,” Becca whispers.
Yeah, this is getting to be too much, and if I stay much longer, I’ll be late for class. I’m never late.
“I’m gonna go,” I say, standing up. “I’ll, um, talk to you guys later?”
They just nod as I slip out.
I walk across campus, notebook in hand, thinking about Professor Holt and the way he spoke to me. Just replaying his words in my mind is like wrapping myself up in a warm blanket.
But it’s not enough. I want more, but I know I shouldn’t. I want those precise, skilled hands on me again. I want his voice telling me what to do. I want to learn more and show him just how much of a good girl I can be.
I’m smiling to myself as I enter the science building and find my seat in the front row.
There he is. But he doesn’t look at me as he starts his lecture.
Forty-five minutes go by, and he doesn’t look at me once.
Even when I raise my hand to ask a question, he just looks past me at someone behind me.
He’s pretending I don’t exist, and it’s working.
As class is ending, I scribble in my notebook: Professor Holt did not look at me once today. My heart hurts.
I take a long time packing up my things, hoping he’ll ask me to stay for another ‘tutoring session.’ He doesn’t. Instead, he just collects his stuff and exits through the side door.
A tornado of emotions strikes me as I go out the way I came. Am I upset? Annoyed? Hurt? I don’t even know. What I do know is that my desire for him hasn’t gone anywhere. If anything, it’s risen.
I’m halfway across the quad on the way to my dorm when someone steps in front of me.
A man. Clearly not a student. He’s old, maybe mid-fifties, with thinning gray hair that’s combed back to hide his bald spot.
He has ugly glasses and a sport coat that I’m sure he thinks makes him look scholarly and distinguished.
His lips part with a sickening smacking sound as he smiles at me. His teeth are so white I wonder if he could bleach them again without permanently destroying them.
“Miss Monroe,” he says slowly, as if tasting my name.
“Sorry, do I know you?”
“No, not yet,” he says, almost to himself. “I am Professor Gerald Belcher. I’m part of the Anatomy Department with Professor Holt.”
Gerald…where have I heard that name?
Aha! The skeleton in August’s office is named Gerald. Could be a funny joke between friends, but for some reason, this man does not strike me as one of August’s friends…
I file this away for later as I shake his hand, just to be polite. But he holds on to mine for just longer than he should, dragging his thumb across my knuckles in a way that makes my skin crawl.
“I saw you leave the hall after August’s lecture,” he says, falling into step beside me as I start walking. This guy’s seriously creeping me out. “You’re a freshman, yes? His classes are tough. You must be quite intelligent to keep up.”
“I do my reading,” I reply. What else am I supposed to say?
“Sure you do,” he says with a smile. I catch his eyes traveling down my body, almost like he’s examining me. It’s cold and clinical, nothing like how August looks at me.
The way he looked at me…it made me feel strong. Recognized. This feels more like how a collector would look at a car he was thinking of buying.
“Professor Holt is a great teacher, but many students find him…overwhelming.”
I shrug. “Not me.”