Nu Alpha Omega

by H. Claire Taylor

  “Dr. Pepper.”

  “We only have Pepsi.” She grinned malevolently.

  Jessica sighed. “Fine. Pepsi.”

  “Mason?” The waitress snapped. “How may I serve you?”

  He grimaced almost imperceptibly. “Water is fine.”

  She turned to leave without another word and Jessica risked an inquisitive glance at her date.

  He cleared his throat uncomfortably and smoothed his napkin in his lap. “Yeah, so, uh, she, um.”

  But thanks be to years of God’s commentary, because Jessica could spot when two people had banged. She was so good at it that she wondered if it qualified among her miracles. “One of the daily temptations?”

  Mason immediately met her eyes, shocked for a moment before his posture relaxed and he chuckled. “Exactly.”

  Instantly, she wished she hadn’t asked. She opened up the Johnny Carino’s menu to give her hands something to do and tried to sound casual when she asked, “So how many daily temptations did you give into before you decided to repent?”

  Glancing up at him, she discovered that her flirtation was not taken as such. And it probably shouldn’t have been taken as such, considering it was flirtation born from unjustified jealousy.

  He looked nervous. “I, uh. I mean. A few.”

  “Sorry, we don’t have to talk about it.”

  “It just feels a little, I don’t know, weird to talk about it.”

  Of course it did. Man, she had no clue about dating. She really should have googled this before he picked her up.

  “It’s like confession,” he mentioned.

  “Well, you would be confessing, I guess.”

  “No, like in church. Like I’m confessing my sins to God.”

  She squinted, trying to follow along. “Why would someone confess their sins to God if they believe he knows everything already?”

  Mason opened his mouth but paused. “I guess I don’t know.”

  Jess glanced down at her menu, this time trying to focus. If she didn’t want the scorned former lover of her current date to stick around any longer than she had to, she needed to know what she wanted to order. “It’s not like God gives two shits about who bangs who anyway.”

  “Huh?”

  She glanced up at him and immediately knew she had said something wrong. Or maybe right? Either way, he looked startled and fascinated. “Oh, um. I’m just saying, God doesn’t really care about sex. As long as it’s consensual—”

  “Uh-huh?” he interjected cheerily.

  “And respectful.”

  “Oh.” He seemed less cheery at that.

  So she added, “And doesn’t involve any non-human animals.”

  “Ah.” That seemed to bring him some relief. “Definitely never that. But I did have a cousin who was into that. He had these big rubber boots, and one day I caught him with the—” He snapped his mouth shut and waved it off. “Not dinner conversation.”

  “Probably not.” But what was dinner conversation? Not bestiality, obviously, but she wasn’t sure where to go from there. Luckily, Mason took the reins.

  “So, tell me about yourself.” He sipped his water, which Jess thought was brave, considering who had brought it and had had unfettered access to it prior to setting it haphazardly on the table.

  “Uh, well, what do you know about me? I don’t want to repeat anything.”

  He nodded approvingly. “I know that you’re God’s daughter. Well, I’d heard it was true and didn’t entirely believe it, honestly, but as soon as I saw you with my own eyes, I knew it was true. And I know you’ve dealt with a lot in your life already and weathered it well, if I do say so myself. Not to be creepy, but I sort of googled you after we met this week.”

  “Oh shitballs,” she moaned. “I can only imagine.”

  He laughed and it was so free of judgment that she was able to chuckle, too. “Is God cool with cursing?”

  “As far as I can tell.”

  “Then let me say, your life is batshit crazy.” She opened her mouth to apologize in some form, but before she could, he added, “And I can’t get enough of it.”

  “Well that makes one of us,” she said, coolly. But her heart raced in her chest. He couldn’t get enough of her?

  “So with LBJ, did that really happen? I mean I saw a couple videos, but was it actually—”

  “Yeah, I didn’t mean to.”

  “And who was the guy in the video with you? The one who came up afterward?”

  His intentions behind the question were transparent, but she figured it was something she’d have to mention sooner or later. “He was my boyfriend. Not anymore, though.”

  Mason nodded slowly. “Totally over?”

  Her stomach felt like a sandbag. “Yeah, totally over.”

  But Mason is here, and he’s sexy and can’t get enough of my life. It was no small consolation, and she was able to manage a smile.

  “Cool. I just don’t want to tread on another man’s territory.”

  That … didn’t seem right. She understood what he meant, though, and appreciated the sentiment, so she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. “You’re not. I’m totally single now.”

  “Good news for me. I hope you don’t mind if I take full advantage of—”

  “Ready to order?” spat the waitress, who’d appeared out of the blue again and plunked Jessica’s Pepsi down next to her water, just as carelessly.

  “Yeah,” Mason said. He hadn’t even looked at the menu, but he rattled off a salad and entree, and when Jessica still wasn’t quite ready, he bought her time by ordering a meatball appetizer to split.

  Once she’d ordered the first thing that could travel from the menu to her eyes to her brain to her mouth, they handed over the menus and resumed their conversation, though the topic of before had been completely washed away and Jessica panicked when she realized she didn’t know how else to jumpstart the conversation again.

  “What about the drugs?” Mason asked. “Was that real?”

  Jess hung her head slightly, frowned, and nodded, hoping that did the trick to demonstrate the proper level of shame and regret. “Unfortunately.”

  “So you’re not perfect?”

  She blinked rapidly. “Uh, no. Am I supposed to be?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought Jesus was perfect.”

  Throwing back her head and laughing, she quickly realized that Mason probably didn’t understand the joke. So she toned it down and used her words. “I won’t tell him you said that.”

  Mason leaned over the table. “Wait, what? You talk to him?”

  “Only in my se— in my dreams sometimes.” One bombshell at a time.

  “And it’s really him?”

  “I guess so. I mean, it seems consistent with the story God tells.”

  Mason nodded. “So you talk to God, too?”

  She sighed. “Yep.” Eyeing her Pepsi, she wondered if she should drink it or not. Well, if the waitress hadn’t poisoned Mason’s drink, she probably hadn’t poisoned Jessica’s. And who would just carry poison around anyway? Spitting was probably the extent of what the girl might have done, in which case, it didn’t matter, because clearly Mason and Caitlin had swapped spit, and Jessica intended to swap spit with Mason, so it all sort of ended up the same.

  She closed her eyes and sipped it up through the straw.

  “What kind of stuff does He say?”

  “Um. Different things depending on the situation.”

  “I— I don’t even know what to say. I have a million questions.”

  “We can talk about something else,” she suggested. But when she tried to think of something to ask him about his life, she realized she, too, didn’t know where to start. She didn’t know the first thing about him, actually. “Where are you from?”

  “Oklahoma.”

  She choked on her Pepsi. This could still work! Hold it together, McCloud! “Oh yeah? That’s nice.” Change the subject! “So what are you studying?”

&
nbsp; “Music,” he said. “It’s everything to me.”

  “Oh yeah?” This was a much safer topic. She happened to enjoy music, too. “Is that what you want to do when you graduate?”

  He nodded. “For the rest of my life. When I’m writing songs, I feel too good to be real. It’s just …” His eyes clouded slightly as he stared at nothing just above her left shoulder. “It’s like I’m lying in the hands of God. Like He’s right there with me.”

  She decided not to tell him that probably wasn’t the case. Especially after an earthquake in Asia. “That’s awesome. From what I’ve seen, you’re good at playing.”

  He sighed and leaned back in his seat. “Thanks. But I don’t really find the music we sing for worship all that inspiring. Although …” He paused, pressing his lips together and eyeing her carefully. “I hope this doesn’t come off as creepy, but I’ve been writing songs pretty much nonstop for the past three days.”

  “Why would that be creepy?”

  “They’re about you.”

  She felt the blood drain from her face and was equal parts embarrassed and exhilarated. “Huh?”

  He shifted restlessly in his chair. “See? You think it’s creepy.”

  “No! No. I don’t think it’s creepy. I just wasn’t expecting it. But I guess I should have. I mean, people sing songs about Jesus, so.”

  He nodded, looking relieved. “Right. It’s like that. You just inspire me, and I want others to feel that same inspiration. I think God would want it, too, right?”

  “Sure? I mean, I guess it depends on the lyrics.”

  “Would you want to hear them sometime?” His enthusiasm was irresistible. She’d sooner kick a baby otter than tell him no when he looked like that.

  “Yeah, I’d love to.”

  He beamed and shook his head, rubbing his jaw slowly. “Man. I never in a million years …”

  She matched his grin. “Never in a million years what?”

  Caitlin the Waitress Scorned practically threw the boat of meatballs onto the table, causing one to roll out and across toward the small tea light, but Mason didn’t even seem to notice, even as the girl stomped off again. His eyes were glued to Jessica’s face. “Never in a million years thought that God would have a daughter, I would actually get to meet her and write songs about her, and then she would want me to perform them for her. It’s beyond imagination.”

  “Would you say it’s miraculous?” She meant it as a joke to break up the seriousness and awe, which was starting to make her fidgety, but Mason missed her tone completely and nodded slowly, reverently.

  “Yeah, it is miraculous. There’s no other word. I’m experiencing a miracle.”

  “Bet you didn’t think that would happen in a Johnny Carino’s.”

  He nodded. “Nope. Wouldn’t have guessed.”

  “Should we get started?” she said, motioning down at the meatballs. “Don’t want them to get cold.”

  He glanced down and seemed to snap out of his trance. “Oh yeah, I didn’t even see her drop them off.”

  “Another miracle,” Jess said, scooping herself two and passing the dish to Mason, who helped himself to the last three.

  * * *

  While she expected Mason to simply drop her off at the entrance to her dorm, he pulled into the parking lot, killed the engine, and hustled around the front of his Jeep to make it to her door and open it for her before she had the chance to do it herself.

  And when they reached the front doors, she thought that would be the end of their night, but as she swiped her key card and the red light turned green, he pulled open the door and motioned for her to enter ahead of him. So she did.

  That left her wondering what would happen when they reached her room. The lack of light from underneath the door and the fact that it was way too early for Kate the Night Owl to be asleep led her to conclude that no one was inside. Should she invite him in? What would that mean?

  But he saved her the trouble.

  “Goodnight,” he said softly once she slid the key into the lock. She paused and turned toward him. “I had a great time tonight.” He stared down into her eyes. She knew from experience what that stare meant.

  Commence kissing sequence! She homed in on her peripheral vision to check the brightly lit hallway for onlookers and was pretty sure she and Mason had the space to themselves. Good.

  “I’d like to do this again, if you’re up for it,” he said.

  She nodded, softening her lips to provide an enticing landing pad for his. Any second now, he would lean forward, and she could already feel her heartbeat racing in her ears and lady parts. Maybe God would let her go all the way with someone who wrote worship songs about her. Maybe that would meet His standards.

  But before that, they had to kiss. And that still hadn’t happened.

  “Yeah, I’d like that a lot.” She inched closer to him, providing as obvious a hint as she could without actually grabbing his face and smashing it to hers.

  “Will I see you tomorrow?” he asked quickly.

  She wracked her brain for plans they’d made. Shit, had she forgotten? “Yeah, of course.”

  He lustily sucked in air through his nose, which reminded her of a perfectly sculpted piece of clay. “I can’t wait to walk into church with you.”

  Church? What the hell? Oh, well, she supposed tomorrow was Sunday, and that would make sense to someone who actually went to church, but that seemed a little much. Student worship was one thing, but church was a completely different beast. “Yeah, that’ll be fun.”

  Finally he made his move, closing the space between them. She shut her eyes but jolted them open again when she felt his body press full against hers and his arms wrap around her in … a hug?

  He held her close and she could smell the cherry blossom scent of his hair. It only made her want him more. And if she wasn’t mistaken, a small nudge against her hip made it quite plain that he wanted her as well. So what was this hug nonsense? Was this the level of resisting daily temptations that Mason was set on?

  He pulled away and she forced a smile. “See you tomorrow, Jessica,” he said. She let her gaze brush over his crotch as she turned toward her door, and yep, Bonertown. Well, that was something. As long as he was struggling as much as she was, maybe there was hope for more on their next date.

  She pushed open her door and flicked on her light, but instead of the familiar sound of the latch clicking shut behind her, there was a soft slap of flesh on fake wood and she turned to see Mason standing at the threshold, his palm flat against the door, propping it open as he stared ravenously at her.

  As ninety percent of her attention diverted to the placement of every bra and panty in plain view, the remaining ten percent allowed her to mutter, “Hi.”

  He didn’t say anything but closed the distance and pressed his body up against hers again. Yes! It was happening. He brushed her hair away from her face, placed his palm on her jaw, stared into her eyes.

  “Forgive me,” he said, which was neither what she was expecting nor what she wanted to hear. But then he leaned down and she thought, Screw it, and shut her eyes anyway.

  The kiss lasted all of half a second before he pulled away, and she immediately recognized it as the least satisfying kiss she’d ever had. Kissing Quentin had been more satisfying than that.

  “Sleep well,” he said, and she wondered if he knew she would be touching herself tonight and that was what his tone was all about or if he was just totally oblivious to the level of sexual frustration his microkiss had left her with. As he left and the door shut behind him, she set her mind to a singular goal: she would break him down. She would pull out every stop necessary to get what she needed from that boy.

  Not even God Himself would cock block her on this one.

  “I met someone at school. A guy.” Jessica waited patiently at the McCloud table for Destinee’s reaction, surprised at how nervous she was. While Destinee had always been supportive of Jessica’s relationship with Chris, it wasn’t cle
ar if the same would hold true for another boy. Or man. She wasn’t honestly sure what to call males in college. Mason seemed closer to a man, she supposed.

  Destinee set the ham down on the table before looking up at her daughter, the corners of her mouth turning down, her eyes opening wide. “Oh yeah? A guy?” Then she remembered. “Oh shit. The rolls!”

  Rex crossed the kitchen and grabbed a small bread basket covered by a cloth napkin. “Already took them out of the oven, sweetheart.” As he brought it over to the table and set it down where there was space, Jessica completely forgot about Mason. She glanced at her mom, who looked smugly satisfied.

  “Just need to dish up the greens, then we’ll be ready to eat,” Rex proclaimed from his place by the stove. “Go ahead and take a load off, Des.”

  He didn’t have to tell her twice, and she lowered herself delicately into her chair like royalty. “Feminism,” Destinee whispered, nodding like she’d won an argument.

  “Nice.”

  Jessica had never questioned Rex’s intentions with her mother; he was a genuinely nice guy, and it was really none of her business. Sure, he was a little naive and oblivious, but nice all the same. And damn, did feminism suit him. At least this form of it, where he focused on the Christmas dishes like they were Xs and Os on a dry-erase board. He brought over the serving bowl of brussels sprouts and bacon and set them on the table.

  “I didn’t know you were much for cooking,” Jessica remarked as he finally took his seat.

  “I didn’t know either. But I tell you what, it’s exciting. Feels good. It’s like women have been keeping this a secret from men for centuries.”

  “Ehh …” Jessica said, but she decided not to burst his bubble.

  “Dig in!” Rex said excitedly.

  No pause to say grace, no mention of the fact that the McClouds still made a feast every December twenty-fifth despite how ridiculous it might seem if analyzed closely or even at all, just digging in.

  “So tell me about this guy you met.”

  Jessica had almost forgotten, and her head jerked up to stare at Rex, who had actually been the one to ask. She didn’t think he’d been paying attention. Could Rex multitask? She supposed she’d seen stranger things in her short life.