Nu Alpha Omega

by H. Claire Taylor

  “He’s a musician.”

  “Ooo …” Destinee said.

  But Rex said. “Nope. No good.”

  Destinee whacked Rex on the arm. “You don’t even know him!”

  Rex didn’t back down. “Neither do you, and you’re already assuming he’s some Ross Hawthorn lookalike!”

  “Am not!” But Destinee didn’t pursue it further and shoved a warm roll into her mouth.

  “He’s not into anything bad,” Jessica said, wondering if that was Rex’s concern. “I met him at—” Then she remembered. She hadn’t told Destinee or Rex about the Christian Student Center. What would they say? Only one way to find out. “I met him at church.”

  “Is that somethin’ different in college?” Destinee asked with her mouth stuffed.

  Jess shook her head. “Kate asked me to go. She said there were some other cool people there I might like.”

  “What does Chris think about this?”

  Unable to believe whose name had just been evoked, Jessica’s stunned brain couldn’t respond right away. But Rex helped out. “Doesn’t matter what he thinks, sweetheart. This is Jess’s life, her choice. She doesn’t owe him anything.”

  Jessica’s mouth fell open. So did her mother’s.

  Clearly the idle talk of feminism had been growing roots in the McCloud home while Jessica was away.

  And hearing those words come out of Rex’s mouth was exactly what she needed in that moment. “I haven’t talked with him about it.”

  “Yeah,” Destinee said, looking a bit stunned, whether by herself or by Rex was unclear, “that’s fine. You don’t have to. So tell us about this musician.”

  “His name’s Mason.”

  Rex relaxed, narrowed his eyes at Jessica and threw an arm over the back of his chair. “And does he treat you right?”

  “So far, yeah.”

  “Does he believe in you, baby?” Destinee asked.

  “Yeah, he seems to. He took me on a date.”

  Destinee’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh yeah? Like a real one?”

  “Yeah. We went to Johnny Carino’s.”

  “Hot damn!” Destinee leaned forward and took a sip of her Dos Equis, which she’d poured into a reindeer-themed mug; after all, it was a formal dinner. “But wait. He took you? Is that allowed?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Feminism. Is it allowed for him to take you and pay for everything and then you just go along?”

  “Uh … I think so. I mean, I liked it.”

  Rex leaned forward. “And you were able to make a choice about whether you did or didn’t, you know, afterward?”

  Talking sex with Rex would never not be weird. She grimaced. “Yes. We’re not doing anything anyway.”

  Destinee looked disappointed. “Well, as long as you’re both on the same page about that. Do we get to meet him?”

  “I don’t know if we’re to that point yet, Mom.”

  Destinee held up her hands. “All right, all right. We’ll stay out of it. But I sure would like to meet him.”

  “He doesn’t look like Ross Hawthorn,” Jess said firmly.

  “Of course he doesn’t,” Destinee said, but she still looked disappointed.

  “I’d like to play something new,” Mason said into the mic from where he stood at the front of the large worship group. Despite the late February cold snap that had put temperatures down into the low forties, the room was sweltering from body heat. Jessica huddled next to Kate in their usual spot toward the back of the crowd. While she’d come to feel much more at home in the Christian Student Center, she was no fool; crowds, no matter how holy they proclaimed themselves, could turn in an instant, and whenever that happened, Jessica would be damned (not literally) if she weren’t right near the fire escape. And the only one in this particular room was at the back.

  She didn’t mind it, though she would’ve preferred to be closer to her boyfriend in any situation. Preferably one where she was naked on top of him. But that didn’t look like it was in the cards for them anytime soon. If she could get the guy to make out with her even once, she’d call it a win.

  “This is a song I wrote.” He nibbled his lips softly, divinity seeming to flow through him despite his very human nature. “I don’t know if you guys have noticed, but I’ve been feeling a little inspired lately.” He chuckled bashfully, and Jess felt her face heat up when smiling faces turned to look back at her for a reaction. She kept her arms crossed over her chest, but couldn’t fight the smile that felt like it started in her belly and blossomed upward. When she returned her focus to Mason again, he was staring so intently at her that she felt another body part heat up. She couldn’t remember ever being hornier than she was each time she left the CSC.

  “It’s called ‘Christ Into Me.’ I hope you like it.” He started strumming, and the melody, sultry like a caressing hand over her skin, pulled Jessica in. And then his angelic-except-not voice began singing. “You’ve got your cross, you’ve got your chain …”

  The lyrics were a little peculiar, and she wasn’t exactly sure what it meant to “Christ into” someone, but there was one thing that she was sure of: Mason was one hell of a musician, and she wanted to do sex to him. Well, that was two things, she supposed. As for the latter, he could comply or not; she was practically past the point of needing his consent in the matter. Maybe that’s what Christ-ing into someone meant? Except she was the Christ, and she wouldn’t very well be inside him. Or could she? A faint memory from her younger years, back when she’d dredged up porn from the nether regions of the internet—for purely educational purposes, of course—niggled at her consciousness, and she suspected that a woman could technically Christ into a man, given the proper apparatus or other extenuating anatomical circumstances that she still didn’t quite understand. But as much as she was willing to entertain basic horniness in this setting, she didn’t think dwelling too long on the technicalities of penetration was particularly appropriate for any public social setting.

  As the song ended, everyone applauded, Jessica and Kate included. Was it weird to hear someone sing a song about her in front of others? A little. Would she tell Mason to stop? Hell no. She wouldn’t tell him to stop no matter what he tried. With him, all her thoughts were Go, go, go! More, more, more!

  THAT SURE WAS AN INTERESTING TRIBUTE.

  It wasn’t a tribute to you.

  I DIDN’T SAY IT WAS.

  Don’t ruin this for me. Only three people have shouted “demon slut” at me this week and I just discovered my new boyfriend is actually a damn good song writer. I don’t expect next week to top this, so please just let me enjoy it while I can.

  THOSE SURE WERE INTERESTING LYRICS.

  I liked his lyrics.

  AND THAT MELODY SOUNDED FAMILIAR.

  Duh. You were probably creeping on him while he was practicing it. Now can you seriously leave me alone?

  FINE. BUT DON’T SAY I DIDN’T TRY TO WARN YOU.

  Warn me of what?

  Silence.

  Warn me of what?!

  She sighed. Well, at least He was gone.

  After worship, Mason caught up with her outside the building, where she sat chatting with Kate and Natalie, mostly about Mason’s new song and how good the melody was and strangely intimate the lyrics were. It was a tough sell to convince Natalie that Jessica and Mason hadn’t already had sex, but Kate had corroborated Jessica’s claim by mentioning the few times she’d witnessed Mason and Jess together in the dorm room and the way he’d been reluctant to even kiss her before leaving each time. “Yeah, there’s no way they’re boning,” Kate said just as Mason approached the small circle.

  “Hey, Jessica.” He pulled her head toward his and planted a kiss on her forehead. She didn’t miss the small nod of concession Natalie gave Kate. “You ready?”

  “Yep.”

  “Hey, Mason,” Kate said, “that was a great song today. You wrote that?”

  He nodded and dropped his eyes to the ground as if embarrassed. �
��Yeah. I almost couldn’t keep from writing it. Not when I have a muse like this around me.” He wrapped an arm around Jessica’s shoulder and pulled her close to his body. The knot in her lower belly tightened. She almost wished he wouldn’t walk her back to her dorm so she could get there sooner and relieve the pressure. Could one get a headache from prolonged sexual frustration? She felt like she was starting to get a headache.

  She waved bye to her friends and headed toward the dorm, resisting the temptation to make any physical contact with Mason, because there was no point and it only made things worse.

  As they turned the corner around a large cement parking garage, Mason almost ran smack-dab into someone. “Oh sorry, dude,” he said, stepping to the side.

  “My bad,” said the other guy, who took two more steps before pausing and turning to look over his shoulder. Jess was already staring at him, having recognized who it was on a gut level the moment she’d laid eyes on him. Maybe even before that.

  “Jess,” said Chris.

  “Hey, Chris.”

  Mason looked down at Jess then turned himself around, too.

  “What’s up?” Chris replied, though he stared at Mason as he spoke. “Um. Everything cool?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “You?”

  “Fine. I called you over the break and you didn’t get back to me. I, uh,”—he pointed at Mason—“who’s this?”

  Before she could respond, Mason adjusted the guitar case slung over his shoulder and offered his hand. “Mason.”

  Chris was hesitant but took it. “Chris.”

  “I know.” Mason smiled.

  Chris looked at Jess for a cue, but she wasn’t in the mood. “I wanted to talk to you—want to talk to you,” he said quietly, as if Mason might not hear.

  “Okay.” She planted her feet. “Go for it.”

  Chris’s eyes darted back and forth between her and Mason, clearly trying to figure out the relationship. “With him here? I mean, can I talk to you alone?”

  “Oh, sorry,” Mason said, holding up his hands and backing away. He addressed Jessica. “I’ll just meet you at the dorm.”

  “No,” she said, “it’s fine. Just say what you want to say, Chris.”

  Chris didn’t seem happy about it, but he sighed and began anyway. “I’ve been a dickhead. I’m sorry I, uh”—his eyes darted over to Mason again—“asked you not to play football. It was selfish. You should do whatever you’re made to do.”

  She appreciated the apology, but it was too little too late, especially when she was in such close proximity to Mason, whose body heat seemed to beckon her closer on the cold day. “Okay,” she said. “Thanks. But I don’t want to play football anymore.”

  “Oh. Uh. Okay. Well, can you tell Coach Brown that, because he’s really been on my ass about running you off, and—”

  “Ha! That’s what this is about?”

  “No. Not just that,” Chris protested. “I feel bad about it, too, but—”

  Jessica turned and nodded at Mason to turn, too. “Fine, Chris. I’ll tell Coach Brown. Bye.” But she only got three more steps up the hill before she felt Chris’s familiar grip on her arm and she turned to face him, ready to shout at him to let her go. But when she saw his face, she couldn’t. He leaned in close, and this time when he spoke, she really was the only one who could hear. “I should have fought for you, Jessica. I regret it every day. I fucked up by calling Jimmy and I should have fought for you more when you pushed me away.”

  He let go of her arm, but she didn’t immediately turn to leave like her brain was telling her to do.

  “I can tell you have something going on with this Mason guy, and I’m not going to try to stop you. But I do want to be your friend still. Not even being that …” He sighed but didn’t continue.

  “Fine,” she said. “I’ll think about it.”

  She’d played out this scenario a hundred times in her mind since she’d started dating Mason—the two of them would be exhibiting all outwardly signs of being in love and probably banging, and Chris would stumble upon them, feel rage and jealousy burning through his body and know just how big of an asshole he’d been with football and sending Jimmy after her. Those had been satisfying fantasies.

  This, though. This was not satisfying. She turned her back on Chris again, looking up at Mason, who’d made it ten yards before realizing Jessica was no longer in step. He casually watched the interaction unfold behind him, like it was no big deal, like her brain wasn’t about to explode.

  The first step away from Chris was the hardest, but she had Mason waiting for her. He was her path forward. Chris was now just a part of her past. She swallowed and did her best to drown images of Chris’s face as she’d last seen it with vivid tableaus of Mason spread naked on her bed.

  But her imagination sucked. She’d just have to see if she could fill in the gaps with a hearty dose of reality.

  * * *

  Not wasting a second once Mason had shut the door to her dorm room, Jessica locked it to make sure Kate couldn’t come in. Placing a hand on his chest, she shoved him hard so he fell backward against the door, his guitar case clattering until he was able to set it blindly down against the wall. She pressed her lips to his and the rest of her body shortly followed, feeding off the warmth of his fit-but-soft chest.

  No more kisses on the forehead. She needed this. She needed to make out with her boyfriend. Her new boyfriend.

  He groaned against her, and she felt the bulge in his pants grow a moment before he insinuated his hands between them and pushed her off.

  Fighting against the urge to take a swing at his beautiful golden nose, she said, “What? Can’t we even make out?”

  “We can,” he said. “We absolutely can. But we just need to be clear that this is where it stops. We can’t go further than this right now. I can’t go further than this. I’ll lose control.”

  She took a step forward. “Maybe I want you to lose control.” She leaned in for the lip-lock. But she never made contact as he slipped out from between her and the door.

  “Listen. I get it. Trust me.” He laughed dryly. “If I didn’t feel that it was my duty to God to fight my inner cravings with you, I would do so many things to you. You drive me wild, Jessica. You think I don’t want to lay you down on the bed, tear the clothes off you with my teeth and then rail you until we both come so hard we can’t move?”

  My mouth is open. I should close it. But she couldn’t. “Why would you say that? Why the shit would you say that if you weren’t going to do it?” She felt a manic hysteria build in her wind pipe.

  “Because it’s true. Jessica, you tempt me like no woman ever has, and it’s for that reason that I know I’m made to resist you.”

  She gripped her mouth with one hand and braced the other on her hip. “That doesn’t make any sense.” She felt like she was going to be sick.

  “God wants me to—”

  “Uh, hello!” She motioned at herself with a swipe of her hand. “Maybe you should stop telling me what God wants and just ask me what he wants. Because I promise you, he doesn’t care who you fuck.” Except maybe me. They could cross that bridge if they came to it, though. She hadn’t heard from her Father in a while, so maybe, just maybe, He didn’t care if she had crazy virginity-shattering sex with this golden god. Maybe He only cared about her having sex with angels.

  Oh shit. Are angels related to me? She really needed to stop putting off reading the Bible. If angels were somehow related to God, then that meant …

  Not the time, McCloud!

  “I believe you, really, I do,” Mason said. “But it just doesn’t feel right to me, you know? And isn’t faith all about listening to that little voice inside you?” He appeared genuinely interested in her answer.

  “Why would I know? I don’t have a little voice. I have God’s big dumb baritone voice interrupting me. Must be nice to have just a little voice. Maybe you should tell that little voice to screw off.”

  He stepped closer and pulled her into
him. She didn’t resist. “You’re so sexy when you’re angry. I don’t know why. It’s like the wrath of God is in you, and I just want to do whatever it takes to calm the storm.”

  “I swear, Mason, if you don’t stop talking like that, I’m going to rape you.”

  Those were the magic words, apparently, because he cut the conversation short, wrapping one arm around behind her, treating himself to a large, deft handful of ass cheek as he pulled her crotch against his. With the other hand, he gripped her jaw as he devoured her mouth. She moaned into him and felt his tongue enter her mouth as she did so.

  Then he lifted her and carried her over to the bed, the kiss unbroken until he set her down on her back on the lower bunk.

  Where he left her. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jessica.”

  “Huh?” She tried to scramble to her feet, but her legs felt like jelly. And before she could stop him, the door shut and she was alone in her room again.

  “SHITBALLS!”

  The best thing about the women’s circle Kate had organized through the Christian Student Center was that Jessica didn’t actually mind going to it. In fact, after the first week where each of the dozen or so girls struggled to stay on the topic of Jesus before eventually giving it up all together, the conversation was some of the most real and honest Jessica had ever experienced, outside of her one-on-ones with Miranda. Perhaps part of that was because most of the participants had never set foot in the CSC or even considered it prior to Kate convincing them to meet up.

  But mostly the blunt, off-topic conversation was due directly to Judith, who was the only girl in the group Jessica had recruited herself, after she’d run into her old friend in the Quad and something seemed to click. The presence of Judith was the last piece of the puzzle to take the group dynamic from good to great, and her ability and willingness to call out bullshit maintained a lack of pretense that pretty much squashed anyone pretending they were here for the church.