by Whitney G.
"Get out of the street!" Someone honked at us as they drove by, but Grayson didn't tear away from me. He kissed me even harder, making me murmur as he bit my bottom lip.
“Are you coming to the team’s victory party Saturday night?” he whispered against my mouth.
“How can you plan a victory party before you play the game?”
“Because the outcome is a given.” He bit my lip a bit harder. “Stop deflecting. Are you coming?”
“I’m still thinking about it.”
“You said that last time and left after three minutes.”
He smiled and slowly let me go. “I think you should try to stay for at least two hours. For me.”
“I can do two hours.”
“Good.” He kissed my forehead and clasped my hand, walking me back to Lothrop’s doors. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You’re not coming in to talk?”
“No,” he said. “I was calling you earlier to get a raincheck since I need to go to bed early tonight."
“Why didn’t you tell Nadira that?”
“Her alternative suggestion was better.” He held the door for me. “Good night, Charlotte.”
“Wait,” I said. “I need to ask you a question, and I want an honest answer.”
“I’m listening.”
“Are you doing all of this elaborate, sweet, gentlemanly stuff just to get me to sleep with you?”
"No." He brushed a few stray hairs from my forehead. "I'm doing all of this ‘elaborate, sweet, gentlemanly stuff’ to show you I like you. Why you’re still refusing to believe that, I have no idea.
I blushed. “So, you don’t want to have sex with me? You’re fine with us never doing that?”
He let out a low laugh and kissed my lips. “I’ll see you at my game Saturday.”
“Answer my question.”
He smiled and stepped back, looking me over one last time. “I just did.”
SATURDAY’S GAME WAS the definition of a bloodbath for the opposing team. It was a 53-7 bruising that made everyone in the stadium feel restless and anxious for the game clock to put them out of their misery. In addition to extending Pitt’s undefeated record to 10-0 for the season, the game solidified one of the longest winning streaks in the school’s history. They had yet to lose a single game since a loss to Louisville my sophomore year.
In my first show of school spirit, I was wearing a #4 Pitt jersey with “Connors” painted on the back in pink and a matching khaki skirt with paw-printed flats. I’d debated changing clothes before the victory party, but Grayson’s latest “I fucking love what you wore to my game today” text made me change my mind.
“I’m kind of upset that you guys aren’t going to this party with me.” I turned around from the mirror, facing Eric and Nadira. “I got you both into the skybox and this is how you repay me?”
“First of all,” Eric said, looking up from my desk. “Grayson got us into the skybox because he knows we’re friends with you.”
“And second of all—” Nadira chimed in. “The adults in this room, i.e. me and Eric, can’t afford to spend every weekend going out like someone we know. What’s happened to you, Charlotte? You used to be such a boring, good girl, and now you actually seem to have a life.”
They both laughed, and I rolled my eyes.
“I’d go, but I told you I have a date tonight.” Eric kissed me on the cheek. “I think I like this girl, so I’m not going to push the date back. Be sure to tell your boyfriend I said thank you for the skybox ticket, though.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“He’s definitely your boyfriend,” he and Nadira said in unison.
“Speaking of which—” He pulled a few bills from his wallet and handed them to Nadira. “You were right about the two of them. I’ll have to pay the rest of our bet in crepes to you tomorrow. See y’all later.”
“See ya!” Nadira held up one of the bills to the light.
“You two have a bet going on me and Grayson?” I asked.
“We have five bets going on you and Grayson.” She laughed. “I’ve won three so far.”
“What are the bets about?”
“If I tell you, you’ll disown me as your best friend. Besides, that’s cheating and I promised Eric I’d play fair.”
“You can’t tell me the bets you’ve already won, then?”
“Oh, sure.” She walked over to me and adjusted my necklace. “The first bet was that you would make him wait at least a month before giving him your phone number. The second bet was that you would start going to all his games.”
“And the third?”
She smiled. “That you would continue to deny that he was your boyfriend when everyone on this campus can see that but you.”
“And the fourth and fifth bets?”
“Nice try.” She laughed. “I’ll never tell you those.”
Before I could ask her something else, someone knocked on our door.
“Um, Charlotte and Nadira?”
“Yeah?” Nadira said. “The door is open.”
The door opened and Tracy—the girl who lived directly across from us, stepped inside.
“I have a question about the alcohol policy.” Her voice was a whisper. “If we’re caught drinking, it’s a simple citation, right?”
“Right.” Nadira crossed her arms.
“What happens if someone is passed out and they can’t wake up? Like, what if they’ve been out cold for like, four hours? Is that a citation as well, or do we have to call 911?”
“What the—Are you shitting me?” Nadira picked up her phone and called 9-1-1. “Which room is it?”
“Nine twelve.”
Nadira requested an ambulance, and I sent a Code Blue text to the Campus Health Emergency Line. I messaged the other Lothrop RAs and asked them to come to our floor ASAP.
“The medics will be here with a team in three minutes.” Nadira grabbed a kit from our cabinet. “How much did she drink and what type of alcohol was it?”
“I don’t know how much she drank.” Tracy’s cheeks flushed red. “It was Everclear.”
“I love Everclear! Is there any of that left?”
“Nadira.” I shot her a look. “Really?”
“It’s worth asking.” She headed toward the door. “There are plenty of RAs on hand tonight, so we can all handle this without you, Charlotte. Don’t you dare think about using this as an excuse to get out of going to his party.”
“But—” I spotted a group of other RAs running down the hall, shouting our rehearsed codes for instances like this. “It’s our floor. Aren’t we both required to do the paperwork?”
She shut the door without saying another word, and I considered her threat for all of five seconds. I scrolled through my contacts and called Grayson.
“Yes?” He answered on the first ring.
“Um hi.” I still couldn’t believe how a single word from his deep voice managed to turn me on. “I wanted to let you know that there’s been an emergency drinking situation in my dorm, so um...”
“So, you’re using that as an excuse to get out of coming to my party?” There was a smile in his voice.
“Yes. Is it working?”
“Not at all.” He laughed. “Are you dressed?”
“Yeah. I was going to catch the next shuttle.”
“Don’t. I’ll be there to pick you up in twenty minutes.” He ended the call and sent me a text message.
GRAYSON: Nadira suggested that I should be ready to pick you up in case you tried to get out of coming. You have great friends.
I have traitor friends.
I laughed and looked over my makeup one last time before grabbing a jacket and heading to the elevator.
A team of medics rushed by when I made it to the lobby, so I sent Nadira a text.
ME: Please tell me she’s still breathing.
NADIRA: She is, but she’ll need her stomach pumped. AGAIN. I called her parents and filed a violation report since we let it slide
last time. Ugh. (On the plus side, I confiscated their Everclear and took it to our room. They had THREE bottles. #winning)
ME: Good. I think we should file violation reports and call parents on the first serious offense from here on out to prevent any more recklessness. (You are ridiculous. Be generous and donate one to me.)
“Excuse me.” A brunette in blue scrubs tapped my shoulder. “Are you Charlotte Taylor?”
“Yeah,” I said. “If you’re with the campus health team, you can talk with the RA-on duty. She’s on the ninth floor and her name is Nadira Hill.”
“I’m not with campus health.” She looked me up and down. “But I am someone you should know. I tried adding you on Facebook recently, but I guess spending all of your time with Grayson Connors means you’re too busy to be friends with people you go to college with, huh?”
I took a step back. My sudden surge of Facebook friend requests was now numbered at a staggering two thousand, but I thought it was a glitch, so I’d let them remain unanswered. If I honestly had to guess, I would’ve said the newfound interest was the result of me being named Pitt’s Pre-Law Student of the Year, not hanging with Grayson.
“I only add people that I know personally,” I said. “But now that you’ve mentioned it, I’ll be sure to hit ignore on your request. Tell me your name so I can do it right now.”
“Ha! So, you think you know Grayson Connors personally?” She placed her hand over her chest and laughed. “Right.”
“I’m sorry, have we met before?” And if not, can you get the hell away from me?
“We haven’t met, but I wanted to come by and do you a personal favor.” She pursed her lips.
“Everyone has been talking about how he hasn’t been attending the usual parties or hitting up any of the girls he used to fuck.” She let the word ‘fuck’ hang in the air for a few seconds. “He’s somehow trading all of that in for spending time with ‘that whack ass Charlotte girl’ i.e. you, so I thought I’d warn you that he’ll never claim you as anything more than an off-field hobby.”
I’d never slapped someone mid-sentence before, but this girl was seconds away from being the victim of my first attempt.
“I know his M.O.” She placed a hand on my shoulder and looked sympathetic. “He’ll say all the right things and pretend that he wants more from you, that he’s interested in being in a real relationship. He’ll take you on dates in cute cafes to make it look like he’s publicly into you. You may even get a few late nights talking on the phone and some weekend dates, but he’ll never kiss you in public. Even if he does, it’ll be in some corner at night, his car, or some isolated place where he can make sure no one else knows about your pseudo-relationship. When you finally ask to be official, he’ll hit you with his trademark, “I don’t do girlfriends, but I like what we have” line. And once he’s tired of you—and he will get tired of you—he’ll dump you and do it to someone else. Because there will always be someone else willing and waiting to sleep with him in a heartbeat. I wish I listened to those rumors myself. Maybe I wouldn’t have wasted an entire summer of my life.”
I stared at her, half wondering where I’d seen her before and half debating whether I still had time to go for the slap.
She turned away as Grayson pulled up to the curb. “You’re welcome for the warning.”
“I don’t recall saying thank you.” I stepped outside and forced a smile as Grayson opened the passenger door for me.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“No.” I got into the car and stared straight ahead, trying to think about anything else but what that psycho brunette said. I tried to remember what Nadira told me weeks ago when the onslaught of friend requests began.
“Please don’t let any of these jealous and petty girls get to you.”
Grayson clasped my hand behind the gear shift as we approached a red-light. “Are you sure nothing is wrong?”
“I’m a little tired.” I looked over at him. “That’s all.”
“I’ll bring you back whenever you’re ready to leave—after your two hours, that is. Unless you want to spend the night.”
“I didn’t bring any overnight clothes.”
“It’s not too late for me to turn around.”
I laughed and he continued driving, speeding across the lanes until we reached his apartment. There was a line of people standing outside his door already, and I could hear the bass of the music from the parking lot.
He helped me out of his car and pressed his hand against the small of my back, leading me around to the back entrance. He led me through the grinding bodies in the hallways and the raucous shouting in the living room.
“About time you made it back!” Kyle handed him a beer once we made it to the kitchen. Then he looked at me and smiled. “I made some coffee and cookies especially for you tonight, Charlotte. They’re on the counter.”
“Shut up, Kyle.” Grayson gave me his beer. “Is everyone from the team here?”
“Yeah. You ready to give 10-0 speeches?”
“Absolutely,” Grayson said. He bent down and whispered to me. “You’re staying for two hours, right?”
“Yes.” I sipped the beer and followed them to the living room.
All the football players were huddled around the makeshift DJ booth and chanting, “10-0, 10-0” as the music continued to pulsate through the apartment. In between every song, one of them would grab the mic and make a hilarious, yet completely un-humble speech. They capped off each of their crude soliloquies by taking off their shirts, much to the delight of their screaming fangirls.
“God, he’s so sexy.” A girl on my right whispered to her friend as Grayson took off his shirt and exposed his abs. “I’m going to talk to him tonight.”
“Really?” Her friend moved closer. “About what?”
“About sex with him.” She laughed. “What else? Years from now, I’ll be able to look back on my college years and brag about how I slept with the number one draft pick.”
“Not if I sleep with him first.”
She and her friend laughed louder, and I replayed every word that brunette said to me earlier. I mentally rewound all the recent moments I’d spent with Grayson in cafes and diners, how the stares and jealous glares in my direction always followed. His smile always helped me to ignore them, but after watching at least twenty girls walk up to him tonight and rub his shoulder or offer a “congratulations on being undefeated” hug that was a little too long, I realized that maybe that brunette had a point.
A misguided point, but a point nonetheless.
I downed the rest of my beer and pushed my way through the crowd, walking into Grayson’s bedroom. I shut the door and checked the pickup times for the next Safe Rider shuttle. Then I sent Grayson a text.
ME: I’m not feeling well, so I’m going to head home. (I’ll make this up to you later, I promise.)
I typed in my dorm address as the “drop off” location in the Safe Rider app, but before I could hit “request ride,” Grayson walked into the room and lifted my phone from my hands. He slipped it into his pocket and locked the door.
“You told me nothing was wrong with you,” he said. “Tell me the truth.”
“I’m just tired.”
“Bullshit, Charlotte.” He looked into my eyes. “Tell me right now.”
“Before you picked me up at my dorm tonight, one of your ex-girlfriends approached me.”
“I don’t have any ex-girlfriends.”
“She seems to think differently then.”
“I see.” He clenched his jaw. “What did she say to you?”
“Nothing concrete, she just put everything in perspective.”
“Tell me what she said, Charlotte.” He looked livid, but his voice was calm.
“She said that you’re putting on an act, that you’ll never really claim me and that everything we’re currently doing—the secret kisses, private meetings, and late night talks on the phone are part of your usual game and will eventually lead to disa
strous results,” I said. “I brushed it off, but when I got here and had to listen to a few of your fangirls talk about how determined they are to have sex with you before you get drafted, I realized she had a point. So, as much as I do really like you, I don’t know if I’ll be able to deal with—”
“Stop.” He pressed his finger against my lips. “We’re going to put an end to this right now.” He walked me over to a chair, but he didn’t let me sit. Instead, he kept the chair for himself and clasped my hands—pulling me between his legs.
“First things first,” he said, “you’re the one who insists on kissing in secret and shit like we’re not adults. I’ve told you every day for the past couple weeks that we’re beyond friends at this point, that I want to date you, but you always deflect or act like you don’t hear me. Second, I have no interest in doing anything with anyone on this campus but you, so a couple random girls saying that they want to sleep with me shouldn’t get under your skin at all.”
“I just don’t think you understand how popular you are sometimes.”
“No, I know exactly how popular I am.” A cocky smile formed on his lips, and he pulled me closer so my knees were touching the chair cushion. “It’s flattering, but it’s also fake as hell. I can’t control how the other people on campus act toward us, but I would appreciate it if you start telling me the truth about things as they happen so I can fix it before you start looking for excuses to break up with me.”
“We would have to be in an actual relationship to break up.”
He ignored my comment and dropped my hands. “I also need you to accept that I’m not going anywhere.” He caressed my thighs. “You’re wasting your time looking for reasons to make me see things differently.”
“Grayson, I’m not trying to—” I lost my train of thought as he suddenly pushed my panties to the side and tapped his finger against my pussy.
“I’m not trying to finish this conversation right now either.” He smirked. “We can address it once I get done with you.” He moved from the chair and slid down to the floor, looking up at me. “Put your pussy on my face.”
“What?” I blushed.
“You heard me.” He caressed my right thigh. “Put your pussy on my face.”
