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But on the other, they are around for only a few more weeks. Then they’ll be off to do whatever guys do before seminary, which I am sure does not include what I’ve been doing with them.
I’m letting my thoughts haunt me, though. Is what I’m doing wrong? Is what they are doing wrong?
Will there be a price to pay?
I just don’t know.
But what I do know, what I have figured out, is that these guys would help me with calc regardless of whether I was willing to play around with them. I also know that even if calc hadn’t brought us together, I’d be all over them anyway.
And if they weren’t headed for seminary, the future would be a lot different for the four of us. But I can’t think about that. I’m focusing on now.
“Mom, there’s got to be a sitter you can call. Or one of the girls from church.
She sighs long and loud. She’s disappointed in me. That’s her way of letting me know.
But she’s always disappointed in me. I’m used to it. I just wish I were more immune to it.
“Gotta run, Mom. I have calculus tutoring.”
If she only knew.
My roommate’s gone for the weekend, so the guys sneak down to my room. As usual, we crank up the music. If anyone knocks and wonders why I don’t answer, I’ll just say I didn’t hear them.
I’ve got it all figured out.
As they filter in, I can barely suppress my smile. I am jumping up and down and giggling with happiness to see them, thrilled to have them all to myself for a while.
The fact that soon I will never see them again is pushed to the far corner of my brain. Not thinking about that, not right now.
I pull out my latest calc quiz and thrust it in the faces of the guys.
John snatches it from my hands. “Whoa!” he hollers. “You got a B+!”
I’m so excited, I am squealing.
“I know, right!” I cry, jumping up and down.
Thomas is closest, so I throw my arms around him, burying my nose in his shoulder-length hair. It smells clean, like simple drugstore shampoo, and I am bewitched, the only word I can think to use.
“I knew you could do it, Rosie,” he says, twirling me around the middle of the room.
Rosie. That’s what he’s been calling me. I’ve never been called Rosie.
“Thank you, guys. I know it’s not an A, but I know what I’m doing now, thanks to your help. I’m aiming for an A on the next test. I think I can do it.”
I mean it. I’ve gotten the hang of calculus. I don’t love it, or even like it, like some of the nerds in my class, but I’m no longer scared shitless of it. And Professor Dickwad, still my least favorite person in the universe, actually said good morning to me the other day. Using my name.
He can suck it.
John and Matthew plop down on the edge of my bed and watch Thomas and me embrace. When I look at them over his shoulder, John crooks a finger at me. Thomas lets me go and I head over, slowly and seductively.
From where he’s sitting, he looks up and takes my hands. Matthew, just next to him, gets up and, standing behind me, opens my jeans and shimmies them to the floor and then off. He guides me to straddle John on the bed, one knee on either side of his hips.
Did they plan this or something?
“Hey. You know when the guys teased you about being a virgin?” I whisper to John.
He laughs and shakes his head as he pulls me to him, his blue jeans scratchy against the tender flesh between my legs. “They’re full of shit. I can’t believe you didn’t figure that out.”
