The Only One

by Magan Vernon

  “Hey, what are you doing with that?”

  He quickly taped a few keys and then set it back down on my desk. “Putting my number in there, so you don’t have an excuse not to text me when you’re coming over.”

  He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. “And now I have your number as well, so I can make sure not to be a dick again and let another guy occupy your time.”

  * * *

  I had absolutely nothing to wear to seduce the sexual God known as John Boy. My sweater collection was pretty impressive, but that didn’t exactly scream sexy. The only half-way sexy outfit I had was my Hermione costume and I couldn’t exactly walk in wearing that. It was also November and the temperature was dipping into the 30’s. There was no way I was walking across campus in a short skirt. After ripping through my closet a million times I finally settled on a long, blue sweater and a pair of black leggings. I really should have worn heels, considering I think John was more than a foot taller than me, but I couldn’t imagine trying to walk in them for very long.

  I stared at my reflection in the mirror, running my fingers through my hair and puckering my glossed lips. “Melanie Wilder, you are a catch. You’re going to walk in there and you’re not going to mess it up with your awkwardness this time.”

  My shoulders slumped. “Or be that weird girl, alone in your apartment, talking to yourself.”

  I picked up my purse from the table and shoved my phone inside before walking out the door and into the chilly night air. John messaged me to come over around six, so I basically stared at the clock every single minute that I wasn’t getting ready until it was time. To say I was excited was an understatement, and trying to hide my giddiness was pretty hard because I practically wanted to skip all the way to the Alpha Mu house.

  I didn’t know the protocol for entering a fraternity house when there wasn’t a technical party. Did I knock on the front door? Text John? Flash one of the windows so someone would come get me? Luckily, when I got up to the house there was a guy standing outside smoking a cigarette.

  “Hey, aren’t you that girl from the coffee shop?” he slurred. Looked like Whiskey Wednesday started early.

  “Uh, yeah, I’m Melanie.”

  A lazy smile crossed his lips as he took another drag of his cigarette. “That’s cool, you looking to party? We don’t have much going on, but I’m sure we could make room for you.” His pale eyes scanned my body and instantly I felt a gross chill fall over me.

  “I’m here to see John Boy,” I practically shouted.

  He shook his head, running his fingers through his spiky hair before tossing the butt of his cigarette aside. “Of course you are. They all are.”

  He motioned me forward. “Come on, he’s in the common room.” Great. How many other girls were probably there for him? Was I being an idiot trying to go after him? God, I hoped the night wasn’t a waste of a matching bra and panties.

  “Okay.” I nodded, following the off-kilter guy who slightly swayed as he walked up the few cement steps to the front door.

  Opening the door, I was greeted by a cloud of smoke and the smell of stale alcohol. I scrunched up my nose and I must have been making quite a face because the guy that led me in laughed like a hyena when he looked back at me.

  “Obviously you aren’t a regular, sweetheart.”

  I sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, hoping not to let any of the noxious smell into my lungs. “No. I guess not.”

  When my eyes adjusted, I saw the large room crammed with guys on every surface, their eyes locked on a big screen TV that sat up against a paneled wall and drinks in their hands. Some of them flicked their gaze in my direction, but then turned right back to the TV. I guess I didn’t qualify for any extra attention. But there was one set of gorgeous blue eyes hidden underneath the brim of a White Sox hat that I wanted to acknowledge me.

  I didn’t think he saw me at first, so I just stood in the doorway, shifting from one foot to the other. What if he never looked at me? Maybe I should just leave, this was stupid.

  Luckily, it didn’t take too long before a lazy grin spread on his face and he stood up from the couch, sauntering over at a leisurely pace. “Hey, Red, didn’t think you’d show.” He stood over me, and the only thing visible was his smile and the faint hint of stubble on his face. I wanted to lick it, but one, I wasn’t about to do that in front of a room full of guys and two, he was a lot taller than me and I probably couldn’t have reached it, even if I jumped.

  “Yeah, heh, I thought I’d make an appearance.” Sweat gathered under my arms and I hoped I didn’t have giant pit stains. I didn’t have the confidence to stand in front of the sexiest guy I’d ever seen and pretend to be nonchalant.

  He stayed cool as ever, his lips parting to show a hint of his teeth when he smiled. “Can I get you something to drink? We have...” He turned his shoulders slightly, looking behind him at a white baby grand piano. Why a fraternity house had a piano was beyond me, but it looked like it was in beyond rough shape and was barely recognizable as a piano with all of the different liquor bottles stacked on top of it.

  “Whiskey, whiskey, and more whiskey.” He finished his sentence and then looked back at me.

  “Hmmm...” I tapped my finger on my lips, hoping that it might appear sexy, but it probably just looked like I had a nervous tic. “I guess I’ll go with the whiskey.”

  “Good choice.” He nodded and then turned to the side, cupping his hands over his mouth. “Hey, Short Stack!”

  A scrawny kid that wasn’t much taller than me with a full head of black, curly hair hopped up from the couch and ran over to John’s side. “Yes, John Boy?” He blinked his big, brown eyes and stared up at John like he was in awe of him.

  John put his big arm around the guy, practically crushing him against his barrel of a chest. “See this girl, here.” He nodded his head in my direction and Short Stack’s eyes met mine for a second before he turned his attention back to John. “This is Red, the Lib’s best friend. She wants a whiskey drink. Can you come up with some sort of girly concoction for her?”

  So that’s how I was being introduced? Not even as John’s friend?

  Short Stack nodded. “Yes, sir. I can.”

  John released his grip on him and patted him on the back before Short Stack skidded over to the piano and fiddled with the different bottles.

  “Short Stack?” I raised an eyebrow and John turned his full attention back to me.

  “Yeah, his brother was Stack, so when he joined he became Short Stack. The kid is like some science genius and they made him my little brother. It comes in handy when he makes drinks.”

  I watched as Short Stack scanned each of the bottles, putting them back in their place or pouring a tiny bit into a red plastic cup. He treated it like it was some sort of experiment or maybe he’d been a bartender.

  “But did you need to call on him like a dog?” I asked then covered my mouth. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”

  John shook his head and smiled before he looped an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to his side. “Nah, I’m actually one of the nicer big brothers and I think he likes feeling like he’s wanted. Everyone wants to feel like they belong somewhere.”

  Short Stack ran back over, part of the drink contents sloshing out of the cup before he came to a halt in front of us, a big smile on his face. “Here’s your drink, Red.”

  “Thanks.” I took the drink and put it to my lips, waiting for the burn. Surprisingly the burn never came and it tasted more like orange juice. “Wow, this is really good, Short Stack.” I had to take slow sips, afraid that it was so good I would down it in one gulp and there would be no way that I’d be able to stand, let alone kiss John.

  “Good job, Short Stack. What’s in this one?” John slapped him on the back and almost knocked the kid out of his Converse.

  “Thanks, dude. I mixed some Jack, orange juice, peach schnapps and a little bit of a lemon vodka. I call it ‘The Red.’”

  “Good
choice on the name.” John squeezed my side and my whole body felt like it was on fire just from his touch. Or it could have been because I took a few big gulps of my drink.

  “Thanks.” Short Stack nodded his big head of hair. “Um, but is it cool if I get back to playing Madden?” He rubbed the back of his neck.

  John slapped him on the back again, letting out a deep belly laugh. “Do whatever you want. You don’t need to stand here.”

  “Okay. Nice meeting you, Red.” He didn’t even look at me before he turned around and ran back to his spot on the couch.

  John shook his head. “He’s a nice kid, but dude has got to get better with the opposite sex.”

  Me and him both.

  “So, you want to watch the guys play some Madden or go downstairs and play some pool?” He squeezed my side and I looked up to see the hint of his eyes underneath his cap. God he was sexy.

  “Um.” My hands shook, fiddling with the straps on my purse before I opened it and pulled out his t-shirt. “I brought this back, so I don’t know if you want to put it up in your room first, so I don’t forget it again.”

  An all out grin crossed his face. “Keep it. It looks way better on you.”

  “Yeah, but it’s yours.” My hands shook, holding his t-shirt between my fingers. Hopefully he didn’t notice.

  He leaned over, his lips vibrating on my earlobe. “I think you’re just looking for an excuse to go to my room. You don’t need one.” His tongue traced my earlobe and my legs turned to jelly.

  I couldn’t even form any words. Instead my bottom lip quivered and something that sounded like a whimper came from my lips. His breathy laugh fell on my ear. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He lifted his head, turning me toward the staircase.

  Each step was like pushing through wet cement. I was really doing this. I was really about to take the stairs up to John’s bedroom. My phone vibrated in my purse and it stopped John in the middle of the stairwell. “Do you need to get that?”

  Dammit. Who would be calling me right now? No one ever called me. I usually got a few texts from Monica and my mom and sister rarely called. It had to be some sort of telemarketer. “No, it’s cool.” I tugged on the soft fabric of his shirt and we continued up the stairs.

  When we got to the second floor landing there was a couple making out, practically having sex, but that was it for people. They didn’t even acknowledge us. If only my phone would do the same thing. It started vibrating again the moment we got to John’s door.

  “Are you sure you don’t need to get that?” He tilted his head, his hand on the doorknob.

  “No, no. It’s fine. It’s probably just some really persistent telemarketer.” A cock blocking telemarketer.

  “That works for me then.”

  He opened his bedroom door and turned on the light. It looked the same as it did the night of the party and had the same smell of stale liquor and sweaty socks. Maybe I should have invited him back to my place instead. The smell alone might have killed me, let alone trying to avoid the land mines of dirty clothes and food wrappers he had on the floor. I took another big gulp of my drink; maybe that would make the room smell better and give me the courage to actually go through with hooking up with the hot bad boy.

  “Sorry, I should have cleaned up.” He let go of my waist and bent down, picking up stacks of clothes and tossing them into a pile to clear a path.

  “No, seriously it’s fine.” I took another big gulp of my drink and inched down to sit on his futon.

  “DON’T SIT THERE!” He yelled and I sprang up like my ass was on fire. I looked back down at the futon and didn’t see anything precious that I could have been sitting on or anything extremely gross.

  He dropped the clothes in his hands and then ushered me toward his bed, motioning for me to sit. “You don’t want to know what’s gone on, on that futon. I think Short Stack may have even lost his virginity there.”

  I wrinkled my nose. Was that supposed to make me feel better that other people were using his futon for sexual things? I wondered how many girls he had on there himself. Though, it did make me feel a little better that maybe he didn’t just think of me as some sexual tryst. Then again, I also hoped that didn’t mean he didn’t want anything to do with touching me.

  Surprisingly, his mattress was very soft, like it was memory foam or something and it molded around my body. His sheets and comforter felt like they had been recently washed and were silky smooth underneath my fingertips.

  John threw another pile of clothes and fast food wrappers aside before he took my drink and put it on the night stand and then crouched down in front of me. “Sorry for yelling at you. I just thought you might want to sit somewhere more...comfortable.” His fingers ran down the length of my arm until he interlocked them with mine.

  I moved my free hand up to his hat, turning the brim around to the back and locking my eyes with his. “No need to apologize.” The alcohol in my system was making me braver and my libido was turning into full overdrive.

  He dipped his head down, leaning in closer until I felt the stubble of his chin on my cheek. know how to control myself around you. “A guy should always apologize, even if he’s done nothing wrong. But I’ve done a lot wrong. I shouldn’t have ignored you. I didn’t want this to be a one time thing because you’re too damn hard to stay away from.”

  I giggled. Short Stack really made the drink strong. My nervousness already felt like it was melting away. “So are you. Hard to ignore I mean.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way.” His breath tickled my jaw line before he ran his tongue along it. “But I’m sorry about your back.”

  “What about my back?” I murmured, lost in the trance of where his tongue was going to go next.

  He shoved my back against the mattress, pulling my arms above my head before he crawled on top of me, straddling my hips. “I’m sorry that it might be sore in the morning.”

  John leaned over, crushing his lips against mine, not in an apology, but with an urgent fervor. His grip stayed on my wrists, keeping them above my head while his tongue teased mine. I closed my eyes and a soft moan escaped my lips. I wriggled my wrists, wanting to move them along the curves of his body pressed against me.

  He moved his lips to my ear, whispering, “I’m sorry, Red, you’re not going to move those hands. Let John Boy do the work.”

  His mouth trailed down my jawline, leaving feather light kisses in its wake, until his lips where at my neck. His tongue flicked against my skin, sending a shiver below my belly button. I bucked my hips up to meet his and could feel the bulge forming underneath his jeans. No more awkward moments this time. He wanted me just as bad as I wanted him.

  But then of course my phone had to vibrate, loudly, from where my purse lay beside me. John popped his head up and I opened my eyes slowly. “Red, are you sure you don’t need to get that?”

  I shook my head feverishly. “No, it’s fine.”

  “Are you sure? It’s been ringing a lot.”

  I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “I’m positive.”

  An all out grin spread across his face and then quickly disappeared into my lips. He tasted like peppermint with a hint of alcohol. He either mouth washed before I got there or was just downing peppermint schnapps. Either way, I wasn’t complaining. His teeth nibbled at my bottom lip before he ran his tongue across it. Each tantalizing move made my body quiver. His lips teased mine, bringing me to the brink of eruption.

  Then my phone vibrated again. Dammit. He released the kiss, pulling back like a suction cup. I opened my eyes to be met with his, staring widely at me. “I think you should probably get that.”

  He released my wrists and I groaned, turning to the side and pulling my phone out of my purse where it fell beside me. I had quite a few missed calls from a number I didn’t recognize and the same one was calling again. I unlocked my phone and slid it up to my ear. “Hello?” I couldn’t hide the annoyance in my voice.

  John sat up, moving his
legs until he sat beside me. I slowly leaned up as well, resting my back against the headboard.

  “Hello, is this Melanie Wilder?”

  “Speaking.”

  “This is Dr. Monroe, from Student Health Services. I’m sorry for the late call, but I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for awhile.”

  Dr. Monroe? The one that did my exam? Why the hell would she be calling me after hours on a Wednesday?

  “It’s all right. Um, did I forget something?”

  “No.” Her voice held a tinge of sadness. “This isn’t a call I usually make, but we received your test results and there was some moderate dysplasia that I think we need to look further into.”

  “Dysplasia?” I raised my eyebrows, staring down at John’s striped comforter.

  “Yes. The lab found some cancerous cells on your cervix. HPV happens to a lot of women your age, and it’s usually mild, but we still think that you should get it checked out with a doctor here in Central. I’m going to send a recommendation to Dr. Rodriguez and you should be able to get an appointment with her this week.”

  Cancer? Doctors? My throat seized and my mouth felt like it had completely dried up. “I-I-I Cancer?” I felt tears pricking my eyes, but they wouldn’t come. I wouldn’t let them. John’s hand was on mine as soon as the words escaped my mouth. His other arm was around me, rubbing his fingertips up and down my arm.

  “It may just be pre-cancerous, which means it would just be a simple procedure, but I still think you should see Dr. Rodriguez. She has a practice off of East Street. I’ll email all of her information to your student account.”

  “Oh-o-okay.” My voice failed me. Everything came out as shaky as my body. I felt like I was going to crumble. The only thing keeping me up was John’s arms.

  “Everything is going to be fine, Melanie. Dr. Rodriguez sees these types of things every day and she’ll take good care of you.”

  “Okay.” I didn’t know what else to say. My heart was pounding so loud that I swore it beat out of my chest. People my age just didn’t get cancer. They didn’t get late night phone calls from too friendly doctors that said the news like they were reading their grocery lists. This couldn’t be real.