by J. S. Wilder
The only problem with student bars is no one tips, mainly because we barely have just enough money to drink, let alone give any extra money away. Slowly but surely, between Michelle’s generosity and the weekly wages I got from the bar, I managed to get some new clothes and books within a few weeks.
My belongings I left were sentimental items. The clothes, books and toiletries could always be replaced. The issue was the farewell card the family made for me before I left, the photo album Grandma put in my things, and the thousand pounds my family managed to save up so I would at least be able to settle in as soon I arrived, without the need for a job straight away.
I had forgotten about the whole incident. Well, not completely, but I had put it past me, when I got some photos through the post. I remembered thinking maybe Mum missed me and couldn’t find the words to say it on the phone, so she sent me a letter. I opened it to see it was a bunch of photos of my things. First, there were my suitcases, then Mrs Sparks with a match and then the last photos showed them up in smoke. It included a note saying, “Remember, I told you never to contact us again. Now you really have no reason to.”
Yep, she was a bitch. May she rot in hell.
Chapter Three
Nerves settle in as I think about the repercussions of her death. Does this mean my student fees will no longer be paid? Then again, I never checked on them; she had paid for hundreds of students in the past, and none of them had problems. I couldn’t compare, because this one little student happened to sleep with her husband, so I wasn’t sure what she would do. I know I could never put anything past that woman, even in death.
I go back to my room with Kevin, but my fate is heavily on my mind, so I make my way to the Dean’s office. Kevin goes back to the library or his dorm. I’m unclear, because my mind is obviously in a different place.
“Rest assured, Miss Withers, your fees have been paid for and so has your accommodation. I must say I’m a little disappointed and surprised this is all you can think about in these times. I mean, I thought you would contact Mr Sparks to give him your condolences,” Dean Smith says as he stares at me through his glasses with sadness in his eyes. I’m confused what to reply. Yes, it does sound cold-hearted, and at times, I am unclear why I feel so bitter toward them. They did more for me than even my own mother. Nonetheless, she burnt all my worldly possessions, and she made a point of sending photos to tell me of their fate.
How do I reply to this one question? Obviously, I can’t tell him the truth, the real reason I can’t contact Mr Sparks. I signed a contract, and knowing that witch, she probably will abide by it, even in her death.
“You’re right, I will of course contact Mr Sparks and send him my condolences,” I lie to save face. I just want to get out of his office, and I’m turning bright red in the process. My hair is down, and I’m trying to use as much of it to cover my face as possible. This conversation is not going the way I planned, not one little bit.
“Is that all, Miss Withers?” He nods as he stops reading the article, as if he’s suddenly aware I’m still in the room.
“No…I mean yes,” I reply nervously after a sigh. Curiosity starts to get the better of me as I wonder about his relationship with Mrs Sparks, concluding it’s none of my business, because as they say, curiosity killed the cat, and I need to remember that when it comes to the Sparks family. Stay away, Debbie. I’m about to ask him something, but my instincts tell me to shut up, not to pry and not to wonder. I have to study for my finals and nothing else, so that should be my primary and only focus in life.
“Very well,” he says, dismissing me out of his office as if I’m a fly buzzing in front of his eyes. Yes, there certainly is more to their relationship than meets the eye. I’m sure that since I saw him cry a few minutes ago, he hasn’t stopped crying since. I wonder if I left the university today and involved in the same accident, if he would be crying the same way he is now over Mrs Sparks. Heck, I bet he wouldn’t even remember my name.
I slip out of the chair and hesitate, still debating whether there’s something I should say. As I open my mouth to speak, he starts to choke up again. I hurry and head out the door. I’m sure he’s about to cry again.
One thing is for sure—I never want to see a man cry. He seems more like he’s crying over the loss of the love of his life than a past student. As I close the door and enter the reception area, I see his wife. The Dean’s wife has the biggest smile in the world on her face as I pass her, and she claps her hands as she approaches his office, her heels clicking to the song she’s humming, “Ding-Dong! The Witch is Dead!” I’ve watched The Wizard of Oz enough times to know that song. I watch her continue, her pearls dancing up and down her neck as she sways her thin hips in her white pencil skirt and matching blouse.
I need to go back and study. Anything else is irrelevant and none of my business. Focus and determination wins the race each and every time. That helped me in the past, and it will help me with my final exam.
I finished up my exams and am working at the bar, still remembering the events from a couple of weeks ago. “The man was in tears. Who would have believed the man could cry? The worst part was his wife. It looked like she was the happiest woman in the world,” I whisper as I clean up the counter.
This is my last week. Soon, I’ll be in an office, or studying to be a teacher. I’m still undecided about my future, but I know I won’t be working at Tesco’s. That’s never been on my career path. Even the thought of a career makes me want to jump up and down. All that hard work’s finally coming to an end.
“I do think it’s strange,” Kevin says as he puts his hand through his blond hair. “I mean, I wonder if he would be like that if I died.”
“What?” I start to laugh, and then I explain to him I asked myself the same thing earlier.
“I mean, maybe he’s compassionate about all his students,” he says and shrugs his shoulders, trying to find a reasonable explanation for the dean’s behaviour earlier.
“There’s only one reason a man’s compassionate about any woman, and it’s not because of her grades in the classroom,” I reply with my hands on my hips, provocatively swaying them from left to right. He jumps up and grabs my hips, pulling them closer to him. Then, he whispers in my ear, “I think, Ms Withers, it’s best if you show me in my dorm room what they could be doing with their hips. Brian’s got exams, so it’ll be just you and me…and these hips.”
I compose myself after getting terribly excited at the idea his dorm room’s empty tonight and I won’t have to worry about his roommate coming back early, or even worse. Last time, he brought a girl with him and asked if we could do swaps at halftime. Yep, trust Kevin to have the roommate from hell. The worst part was the girl works with me at the bar, and she said, “I can’t wait to get my hands on those breasts,” pointing at mine. It was strange, and as soon as she said it, I thought of the Sparks.
So, I’m ‘gifted’, people tell me. At 34C, I wouldn’t say they’re in your face, but they give Kevin something to play with, and boy, does the man love playing with them.
Hmm, Kevin and me…what should I wear tonight? I’ll make it special.
We’ve discussed what’ll happen after graduation. We’re both open to continuing our relationship and seeing where it leads, but we both know what could happen is a totally different thing. The next few weeks could mean the end of our relationship, or a new beginning.
He lives in Oxford, whereas I come from sunny southwest London, and realistically, I’m not going to start teacher training—if I do decide to be a teacher—until September, and Grandma said I should go live with her for a few weeks, or even the year, until I find myself on my feet. Either way, she’s really expecting me to go live with her, and I do miss her with all my heart.
Secretly I think Grandma believes the solution to both mine and my mum’s problem is for us to reunite. I’m starting to feel that maybe I was too judgemental and need to go back home to fight my demons. Don’t they say if you have skeletons in you
r closet, then you can never be free? With a slight tap on my butt and a wink from Kevin as he leaves the bar, I’ll have to hold those thoughts.
Guess who’s getting some tonight.
Chapter Four
“Grandma, I know. Calm down. Nothing’s going to happen with my scholarship. It has all been paid for.”
Grandma’s in a panic after I told her the news about Mrs Sparks. This is such a bad time to discuss her fears. I was checking the time, so I took my phone out of my bag and she happened to phone at that moment. I was on my way to Kevin’s room and was trying for once in my life to not be late.
Now, I’m sitting in Kevin’s room with candles all over the place. It looks so beautiful, the lengths he went to. I have sexy lingerie underneath my clothes, ready to satisfy my man tonight, but Grandma’s going on and on.
Grandma worries frequently about me being alone here. Her visits should be a comfort, but she always finds something to worry about…
“You’ve lost too much weight.”
“Can you see without your glasses? Wearing contacts all the time is not good for your eyes.”
“Every time I come here, Michelle has a different boyfriend. Is she one of those kinds of girls? I hope you’re not turning into one of those girls.”
Yep, every time, there’s something for her to worry about. You would think after three years it would have stopped. When I’m under her wing, I think it will—well, I hope it will.
The conversation’s getting long-winded and Kevin’s lost his patience. She’s now gossiping about everyone in her tower block—who’s sleeping with whom, who’s claiming benefits, but are really working, who the new people are who’ve moved into flat two hundred, who the former tenants of flat two hundred were and where they have moved to.
It’s a big estate. I can’t believe how much has changed since I spoke to her two days ago. I mean, do we have to have the same conversation each and every time? This is not how I envisaged tonight. I want to be with Kevin so badly.
Should I cut her off and just get nasty with my man? Tomorrow I could tell her my battery died…or I could find a good place to put the phone, where she can’t hear us, so when she finally does need a response from me, she won’t hear a thing, and eventually, my battery will die.
Poor Kevin’s surfing the net, while I decide on the best way forward. He keeps sighing as a sure way of letting me know he’s in the room and he’s not happy about the situation. Damn it, Debbie, why did you pick up the phone? I went to my room and freshened up. I was trying to figure out the time and the phone rang. I assumed it was Kevin trying to get me to hurry up. I didn’t check who was calling, I just picked up. Never in my dreams did I think it was her. I mean, after all, she’s normally in bed by nine. Not sure what she’s doing up so late. I was going to ask her before, but she’s on a roll tonight. She hasn’t stopped talking.
Soon, he’ll probably blow out the candles and just put porn on to satisfy himself, judging by the way this night is going. Twenty-five minutes and forty-five seconds later, she’s only on the second floor of the block. There are ten in hers. Is she really going to tell me about the top floor too? It’s just doing my head in, so I can imagine his is even worse. Why tonight of all nights? Maybe she knows secretly what I intend to do tonight, so she’s warning me or trying to stop me.
As I continue to watch Kevin’s back and think about all the things I can do to his toned body, I have this nagging feeling it is all wrong. Maybe I’ve got Roy at the back of my mind. No matter how many times Kevin and I have sex, he has never satisfied me the way a stranger did. Don’t get me wrong; I care for Kevin, even love him, but maybe that’s not enough. Maybe we have a missing connection that’ll never be filled, and I kid myself by thinking we’re compatible. If so, then why don’t I climax all the time or at least once every ten times we have sex? I did it once with Roy. No hesitation, I climaxed as if I was on autopilot.
I close my eyes and think about Kevin’s muscles. He goes to the gym regularly and plays football. He’s fit, and every girl on campus thinks so. I love the way they slide their eyes up and down his heavenly body as we stroll through campus, and all the time, I hold his hand, thinking, Ladies, he’s mine, all mine.
I have the pleasure of running my fingers through his hair, tracing my hands along his six-pack abs, not them, and he loves it. He tells me so many times, and he shows me by coming over and over again. So, what’s the problem?
Why do I feel…guilty?
There’s the feeling something is not quite right.
“Grandma, we were about to have sex and you called. Now, you can either listen, or hang up,” Kevin blurts down the phone as he snatches it from my hand as I debate whether to hang up.
I needed to get over myself and stop doubting everything good in my life. Kevin’s good. We’re good. How can I think anything else? I’m in shock by his bluntness toward poor Grandma. I can imagine her in front of the TV watching repeats of Coronation Street with a hot cup of cocoa. I’ll never understand why you’d need to watch the repeats, once you’ve watched an episode. It’s not like the characters or settings change. Repeats are for people who never watched it in the first place. My mind wanders while she says something in Kevin’s ear.
He hangs up and tells me, “She said you should have said so, instead of harping on, and she’s not one to step in the middle of true love.”
I shake my head in shock. “Did she really say that?”
“She did; call her.” I reach out to take my phone from him, embarrassed by his revelation to Grandma. I was hoping she still thought of me as a virgin. I know, silly seeing as I’m twenty-one years old. But, I used to be the hard-working Deborah, the one who wanted more for her life, the one who would not turn out like her mother and let a man dominate her dreams, then use her and spit on her heart. Now, she’s probably thinking I’m just like my mum. God, I hope not.
“No, I was joking,” he says as he moves the phone away from my reach and puts it on top of his books, right on the top shelf, where I can’t reach unless I use a chair. I move the chair, ready to take my phone back. I need to call her back. I need to make sure her view of me isn’t tarnished. There’s no one I treasure more than my grandma.
“She said it, but there’s no way you’re calling her. Not now. Where were we? Or rather, where should we be?” he teases as he grabs the chair and moves it from my reach.
This man’s serious. There’s no stopping him tonight!
Chapter Five
He starts to peel off my top while admiring my shoulder. I stand frozen in time, letting him take control. His eyes wander up to mine, and then he looks at my glasses and frowns. I feel helpless, as if he has put me under his spell. He takes off my glasses and places them on his study desk.
Kevin’s more sexually experienced than me. A man likes to be in control; I read it in a book one day. I’m trying to make sure I’m up to improving my performance in the bedroom. Sex with Kevin is so different from Roy. Roy took full control. Kevin’s more of a hot-blooded male—rough and ready to put it in. At times, I wonder if it’s me he’s hungry for, or a sense of relief, like he wants to have sex, rather than he needs to have sex with me.
He knew I wasn’t a virgin from the first time we had sex. I was tight, but he said I never acted like one, so I lied and told him I did it once with a neighbour. Imagine if I said, ‘Well, you know my sponsor…the woman who just died? Yeah, it was with her husband.’ What would he think of me? Even saying it in my head sounds bad, let alone aloud. I mean it makes me look like I’m that sort of girl, and I’m really not!
“Just call Grandma back, then!” I shout. He snorts as I realise he has let go of my arm and we’re sitting on the bed. Even a sensual moment like this, and I still can’t get Roy out of my mind. “Sorry, it’s just the excitement. My mind is all over the place.”
“Mine isn’t. It’s just with you. I passed too, but you don’t see me acting like I want to be somewhere else.”
Yes, t
he results were out and I had the fantastic news. Shit, is that what I’m doing? I need to fix this now; he’s pacing, confused by my actions. The room’s practically dark, and most of the candles have melted. It’s nowhere near the romantic setting it was over an hour ago.
“Sorry,” I say as I stand up and slowly peel my clothes off to reveal a red bodice wrapped tightly against my bust with matching suspenders. Please, let him appreciate this. I want tonight to be special.
“My, my…someone made an effort tonight.”
I unloosen my ponytail and let my coarse hair hang on my shoulders, with my head tilted to one side. I stare at him with lust and love. I cross my fingers behind my back, while my other hand is on my hips. I start to sway them from side to side, in hopes of getting his attention. As he stumbles over to me, relief starts to settle in. As he puts the music on, George Michael’s ‘A Different Corner’ plays. How appropriate.
I close my eyes and start to feel the love that has built up between us. All my worries about this being our last time together gets thrown out the window as I put my arms around his neck. With his five foot ten inch frame, it feels so right as I stretch up only a little bit to reach him. He puts his face against my neck and we dance. All the thoughts of how we first met enters my mind.
He asked me for a drink in the bar, acting cocky and full of himself. I remember pointing him out to Cassie, the girl I work most shifts with at the bar, and her first reaction was, “Go give him a snog. You know you want to!”
I stood perplexed, knowing she was right; that was exactly how I felt. He was gorgeous, with striking brown eyes and blond hair—the complete opposite of Roy. Even then, I still had him in my mind. I never stopped thinking about him, even weeks after I left the house. The way he touched me, held me and made me feel like I was the only woman in the world.
