Chapter 3 #2
He lays his pencil down, his eyes darting between the four of us as he slides two sheets of paper across the dining table.
Tina tasked Alex with drawing the internal male and female reproductive systems from memory, as well as labeling all the parts.
We all rise from our seats and hover over the sketches.
Not only are the renderings artistic, but he’s managed to correctly identify each structure.
Maybe Evelyn Davera would be proud of him after all.
“Well, shit.” Tina whips a twenty dollar bill out of her pocket and slaps it on the table. A triumphant grin spans Alex’s face as he reaches for it.
“Have you been cramming for twenty-four hours straight?” I ask, dumbfounded.
“Pretty much.” He stands up and digs his wallet out of his side pocket, then deposits the bill. “Ladies, it’s been a pleasure. I appreciate your time today.”
“You’re one of us now.” Tina grins, lifting her beer.
“And speaking about being one of us …” Vera pulls a red die from the front pocket of her jeans. “How about we play a game?”
It’s not a regular die with polka dots—it has words on the six surfaces. Prompts.
Alex squints at the red cube. “What is that?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, clearing the paper plates. “We’re not playing.”
“Why not, June?” Tina arches her eyebrow. “You scared?”
“No …” I draw the word out, stomping on the foot pedal for the trash. “I just don’t want to make Alex uncomfortable.”
“Right.” She laughs. “Alex.” With an overly enthusiastic grin, she says, “We’re going to desensitize you so you can stand up to whatever they throw at you.”
His brow furrows. “Okay …”
“June, you go first,” Vera says, handing me the die.
I roll my eyes, then scan the prompts: most awkward hookup, best orgasm, favorite position …
I’m still reading when Tina slaps the table. “No cheating, or I’m going to roll for you.”
I sink back into my chair, then extend my hand and let the die fall without looking. It clatters across the table, landing right in front of Vera.
“Ooooh,” she coos. “First time.”
Shit.
The one question I was dreading. Because although my actual first time was with my college boyfriend junior year, it was supposed to be with Alex.
At least I wanted it to be.
The week before my high school graduation, I propositioned him.
One night, when my parents were out, and Alex’s mom was working, I knocked on his door.
In hindsight, my approach was at least part of the problem.
That’s what I tell myself, anyway, whenever I think back to it and get flooded with the accompanying mortification.
My heart is pounding just as hard now as it was then. I glance around the table, and all eyes are on me. Especially the hazel ones to the left boring a hole in my temple. Does he remember that night? When he opened the door and said, “Sup, October?”
He was probably trying to be welcoming. Casual. Disarming. But somehow, it put me on the defensive. I knew he didn’t see me as the woman I’d grown into. I was still just Charlie’s little sister.
So I shoved my profession of love deep, deep down, and instead rambled an awkward run-on sentence that went something like, “I don’t want to go to college a virgin, and you’re the only person I feel comfortable asking, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, because I don’t like you like that, I just thought maybe you might—” I stopped when I saw the horror in his eyes.
It may have been disgust. But late at night, when I can’t sleep, and the memory plays on an endless, cringey loop, I tell myself it was shock.
Catastrophic shock.
As soon as he said the words, “I’m flattered,” a high-pitched ting began ringing in my ears. And although I saw him gesturing—touching his chest, nodding toward me, motioning between us—I couldn’t hear any of the words that accompanied the movements.
But it didn’t matter, because he made it abundantly clear that—no, he would not be indulging in my fantasy.
I nodded, gave him not one, but two thumbs-up, backing down the steps, and for some inane reason, maintaining eye contact the whole way.
When I reached the bottom of the porch, I turned, straightened my posture, and marched home feigning dignity.
Once I was safely inside, I crumbled to the floor and bawled my eyes out.
My face flushes, and I part my lips, stuttering an awkward, “Well … I, um—”
A cell phone blares, startling us all.
Oh, sweet Jesus, the angel of mercy.
“Shit, that’s me,” Alex says, grabbing his cell. Without looking at the screen, he darts toward the door and steps out into the exterior corridor, a slice of late-afternoon sunlight spilling into the entry.
“What’s up with you?” Vera flicks her hand toward me. “Why did you freeze like that? You’ve told that story about Kevin a million times.”
I lick my lips, heat creeping up my neck. “I told you I didn’t want to play.”
“But something’s different.” Tina leans forward, crossing her arms on the table. “I haven’t seen you flounder like that since your first month at the health center.”
I shoot Millie a look, pleading for help, but she just shrugs.
Tina studies me, her eyes narrowing. I motion for her to drop it as Alex reenters the apartment, his brow furrowed.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, all good. But I gotta go,” he says quickly, gathering his things and slipping his messenger bag over his shoulder.
Bolting out the door after a phone call? Is he … attached?
With an apologetic smile, he says, “Thanks for putting this together.”
“No problem.” I attempt to brush off my nerves as I stand up from my chair. “I’ll walk you out.”
We step onto the concrete porch, the golden rays of the sun enveloping us. He leans against the doorframe with an easy smile. God, how does that smile still make my stomach flip the way it did when I was fifteen?
“Good work today.” I give him a playful nudge on the shoulder. Dear lord, June, have you never interacted with another human before?
“Thanks, boss,” he says, mirroring the gesture on my arm. His eyes sparkle with mischief, little bits of green and gold shimmering in the sunlight.
I clear my throat, averting my focus to a random defect on the wall. “So, next steps. I was thinking—”
“I’m going to stop you there, August.” He adjusts his stance, squaring his shoulders. “This was great. And I really appreciate the help. Truly. But I’ve got it from here.” I attempt to protest, but he lifts his hand. “Don’t worry, I won’t fuck up.”
I nibble my lip. I should be relieved he did so well today. So why am I disappointed? Was I actually looking forward to spending time with him?
“I know your tenure is on the line,” he says with a reassuring smile. “But hey, maybe your parents can make a donation to seal the deal.”
The words hit like a slap. That’s how he sees me? It was bad enough when I was just Charlie’s little sister, but this whole time he’s thought of me as a spoiled little rich girl?
A coldness settles over me, and I reach for the doorknob behind me. I can’t hide the hurt in my voice when I say, “Wow, what a great idea. Wish I’d thought of that sooner.”
His eyes shift, softening with something that looks like regret. But before he can utter another word, I turn the knob and slip inside.
When I reenter the apartment, Vera, Tina, and Millie are busy packing up. After the posters are down and the bins are full, Tina grasps His Majesty, un-suctioning him with a loud shhhhlop. “Figure you don’t want to see this before you have your coffee tomorrow.”
I smile weakly. “Thanks.”
We say our goodbyes and one by one, they pull me into a hug before exiting.
Once I’m alone, I sit at the dining table, picking up Alex’s anatomy sketches. He really did study his ass off. But not as a favor to me—so he wouldn’t have to spend more time with me. I crumple the papers and toss them aside.
If that’s how he wants to play this, fine. He can go his way, and I’ll go mine. On Monday, I’ll even check the department schedule for office hours and adjust mine so we won’t occupy the space at the same time. With any luck, we won’t see each other again for the rest of the semester. Maybe ever.
My phone pings, and my heart flutters. For some asinine reason, I think it’s Alex, texting me an apology. My stupid stomach even does a little somersault. But then I look at the screen and my insides drop somewhere down by my ankles.
Mom: We’re taking your grandmother grocery shopping at 11 tomorrow. Don’t be late.
Oh, joy.