As soon as he graduates, he announces that he’s done with formal assessments.
???
But on the other side of the wall, textbooks and sticky notes cover every surface.
My bedroom morphs into a labyrinth of academia.
Lists and charts.
A rainbow of reminders.
Turns out I have quite a knack for event planning, even as a beginner.
The thing about growing up broke in the middle of nowhere?
Imagination blooms.
Pair that with a craving for order amongst chaos?
The possibilities are endless.
How wonderful to be good at something.
I’m finally more than just a poor kid with bruises or a shameful horny secret.
A world of unfathomable opportunity opens up to me.
???
But it comes at a cost.
When I’m finally old enough to start my diploma, my study load triples.
Midnight and early mornings were once our time for stealthy snuggles.
Now, even with an extra cup of coffee, I can barely stay awake.
“Uni going okay?” Porter whispers across the pillow.
“Yeah, keeping me busy,” I reply.
It’s like I’m talking to a stranger.
“Way harder than TAFE. But I’m enjoying it. Making some new friends.”
“Nice.”
“Uh huh.”
Most of the time we fall asleep in each other's arms.
Too tired for a quickie or a blow job.
Simple is the new spicy.
Gentle comfort. Familiarity.
A tender peck on the cheek at one o’clock in the morning.
