Seduced In College (Campus Dorm Room School student One Night Stand Erotica Girl Romance Sex Stories series)

by Perry, Mia

  “Huh…” Jack laughs really loud. People turn to look at him. “Come on, kid,” finally he stops his laughter. “That’s the old trick. Now we have the Internet.”

  This Jack is now a total mystery to me. He is making huge amount of money with the Internet by “shipping things”. And his “business” is more profitable than smuggling drugs. Are these “things” blood diamonds, ivory, human body parts, or something worse?

  “Come on,” Jack urges, “let’s finish the coffee and get moving.”

  I look outside. The traffic is now much smoother. I gobble down my coffee and stand up. “Let’s go,” I say, wiping my mouth.

  Chapter Eight

  It takes us only fifteen minutes to drive to the Greyhound station. Jack pulls the car to the parking lot. He turns off the engine and turns to me.

  Well, it’s the time to say goodbye. I feel a lump in my throat. I have mixed feelings with Jack. I don’t know how good or how bad he is. I don’t know if he really killed someone. But I do feel like I want to spend more time with him. I know this is the last time we are going to see each other. Good or bad, I will never see him again once I step out of this car. Isn't this really the way the life goes? I look at him, trying to swallow down my lump so I can say something nice.

  Jack is swallowing really hard, too. Finally, he puts up a smile and says softly, “Good luck and take care, kid.”

  “Thanks for everything, Jack,” I say, grabbing my duffle bag. I get out of the car and walk all the way into the station. I don’t want him to see the wetness in my eyes.

  The moment I step into the building, I hear the car engine start. He is leaving. That’s. It. Life.

  The line for the ticket is long. Big buses come and go. But I can’t hear anything. Did I leave too quickly? I ask myself. Now I realize what I did. I walked away from the man who saved my life and helped me when I needed the help the most. No hug, no phone number exchange, nothing. Emilie, see what you did?

  Sorry, Jack.

  “Next, please.” I hear the girl say. I look around. “It’s your turn, miss,” the man behind me smiles.

  “One way to Miami, please,” I say.

  “One hundred and seventy three dollars,” says the girl.

  “What?” I can’t believe my ears. “Isn’t that one hundred and nineteen dollars?”

  “That’s when you order from the Internet.”

  “Can I order from the Internet then?”

  “Sure you can. But the bus is leaving in five minutes. They are finishing boarding.”

  What am I going to do now? I don’t have an Internet access service on my iPhone. I have only the basic phone service. It was Jack who showed me the special Internet rate on his iPhone. But he left already.

  “Next,” the girl looks at the man behind me.

  “Oh, please, I still need my ticket,” I try to smile.

  “One hundred and seventy three dollars,” the girl repeats.

  I pull out all the cash and hand them to the girl. She begins to count. “One hundred and thirty nine,” she stops and looks at me.

  I dig into my purse and find a few coins.

  The girl gives back my cash and says, “Next.” Her voice is ice-cold.

  I’m not happy but I don’t have time to get angry. I pull out my Visa and hand it over. I need to get this ticket before the bus leaves.

  The girl reaches for the card. Her nails are all paint purple, my favorite color.

  Suddenly, a big hand grabs the card and pulls it away from my hand.

  I freeze. Robbery! I almost black out. This is my last chance to go to Miami. Who is this stupid thief anyway? Can’t he see I’m all broken? I turn my head and see the thief.

  It’s him. Jack. “Come on, let’s go,” he drags me out of the line.

  “What are you doing?” I struggle.

  A security guard strolls close, “What’s up?” He stares at Jack like he could be on America’s Most Wanted List.

  “My girlfriend,” Jack grins.

  The security guard turns to me, “You okay?”

  “My girlfriend,” I grin.

  The security guard locks his eyebrows.

  “Er, um, my boyfriend. Yes, Jack,” I grin again.

  The security guard unlocks his eyebrows and strolls away.

  Jack points at the corner and moves his mouth. I turn and look. Camera. That’s what he is trying to tell me.

  I follow him to walk outside. “Jack?” I ask, the moment we are out of the Greyhound property.

  “Look, this is a rip off,” Jack hands back my Visa. “Let me give you a ride to Miami, okay?”

  “You said New York, Jack.”

  “I changed my mind.”

  I feel so happy. “Jack, are you doing this just for me?” My cheeks turn red.

  “Oh, heck no,” Jack says right away. “I’m going there anyway.”

  I’m so disappointed. I wish he had lied, “Oh, yeah, I'm only doing this for you, kid.” But he didn’t.

  “Oh, well, kind of, okay?” he says. “I’m going to Orlando. So, I am going to give you a quick, extra ride from Orlando to Miami.”

  Why Orlando? Is he going to the Disney World for his “business”? Well, that’s his business secret. I shouldn’t be that nosy.

  Soon, we hit the highway.

  “Jack, why did you come back to get me?”

  “Me coming back?” Jack chuckles. “I never left.”

  “But I heard the engine starting.”

  “Come on, there were hundreds of cars around.”

  “But your 4x4 sounds different.”

  “Is that a Lamborghini?”

  Silly, Emilie. Jack is right. There are so many 4x4s in New York.

  Unfortunately, the fact was miles away from romance. But he did give me this ride. I’m so thankful.

  Chapter Nine

  “Want some music?” Jack asks.

  “Sure,” I say.

  “Your favorite?”

  “Anything you like.” I want him to enjoy his music so he can focus more on his driving. I worry after the long hours last night, he may not have much energy left.

  He picks Classic FM. It’s playing Beethoven’s Symphony No. 2.

  Odd. Why doesn’t he like hip hop or something really energetic and exciting for young people? My grandparents like to play those old classical music albums. Oh, yeah, they like the country music, too.

  “Jack, do you like the country music, too?”

  “Sure!” Jack sounds excited. “Why? You like it, too?” His hand reaches for the radio buttons, ready to switch.

  Oops! Wrong question. “I prefer the classical music.” If I have to pick, this is definitely less boring.

  My iPhone beeps when we reach Philadelphia. It’s a text message from Anthony. “Emilie, where are you? Please let us know.”

  Those we bitches are still together. I’m sure Anthony is wrapping his legs around the body of the other we, like he always did to me. His ugly dick is giving that we’s ass a good massage, too.

  I almost throw up at this thought. I press the delete button right away. I really want to put everything behind me.

  Ten minutes later, a new text message comes. It’s Anthony again. “Emilie, please talk to me.”

  “Drop dead!” I text back.

  “We’re glad you’re okay.”

  Sure! You are glad. I get really angry. “Bitch,” I murmur.

  “What?” Jack turns his head and looks at me as if I came from Mars or something. “What did you say?” he asks.

  “Nothing,” I close my eyes. My life is a total screw-up now. My stupid boyfriend hurt me last night. And now, he is trying to hurt me again. Isn’t he the one who turned my world upside down and forced me to run into the darkness and deadly cold? What am I going to do next? Am I going to be a waitress in Miami for the rest of my life?

  I never had the time to think about this. Now I feel like things can be more complicated than I thought. The college may realize I’m missing. What if th
ey call my parents? What if they call the police?

  Suddenly, my iPhone beeps again. Is it from the college? Or is it from that bitch Anthony again?

  I pick up the phone. It’s MOTHER. Yes, my ice-queen mother is calling me.

  I look at the phone. I can’t decide if I should pick up the call. What am I going to say to my mother? I never lied to her in my life. But I can’t tell her the truth this time.

  Eventually, the phone is quiet. Mother must be very disappointed because she can’t leave a voice message. I can only afford the very basic service. I received this iPhone as a Christmas gift from Mother but I insisted to pay for the service myself—maybe I should have let her pay.

  Sorry, Mother.

  “Why didn’t you pick up the call?” Jack asks.

  “It’s a commercial promotion,” I come up with a little lie.

  “Oh, yeah,” he smirks.

  I am a bit angry. Look, this is none of your business. “You don’t believe me?” I try to keep silent but I just couldn’t.

  “Why not? It’s a promotion, as you said,” he smirks again.

  This Jack is too nosy. Maybe I should have taken the Greyhound.

  I close my eyes. I need to find a way to explain everything to Mother. And quickly.

  The phone beeps again. I open my eyes and see the same number. Please, Mother. Stop calling.

  I stare at the screen until the beeps stops. I know she is worried now. Is she going to call the college? …Or the police? I don’t know. But I really don’t know what to tell her.

  “Another promotion?” Jack’s voice is flat and matter-of-fact. But I can hear the sarcasm right away.

  “Whatever.” I really feel sorry for taking this ride.

  Two minutes later, the call comes again. Now it’s obvious my mother is going to keep calling until I talk to her. If I don’t, she may become really panicked and call the college, or the police instead.

  I take a deep breath and press the button. “Hi, Mother,” I try to sound cheerful.

  “Oh, hi, honey, did I disturb you? Are you still sleeping?”

  “Oh, no, Mother, I have been awake for a while.”

  “Did you have a good sleep last night?”

  “Not really. I have to study. You know, so much work.”

  “Emilie, your father and I are going in town for fun this weekend. Do you want to join us?”

  “I would love to, Mother. Unfortunately, I can’t. I have to prepare for my exams next week. I have two big ones coming up.”

  “Oh, sure, kids are all smart there. Emilie, we are so proud of you.”

  “Thank you, Mother.”

  “How about we get together for a dinner on Saturday?”

  Oops! “Um…, Mother, as you said, kids are all smart here. I have to work really hard.”

  “Honey, it takes only two hours. Or we can make it shorter. I’m sure you are going to be totally refreshed after a nice dinner.”

  “Okay, let me check my schedule and then call you back, Mother.”

  “Take care, Emilie.”

  “You too, Mother.”

  I peek at Jack. He has that smirk again—a big one. “Why are you laughing?” I feel really annoyed.

  “Miss Strong is hiding,” Jack sounds amused.

  “I’m not Miss Strong. And I’m not hiding,” I’m becoming angry.

  “You are not?” Jack turns to me. “Why don’t you tell your mother what’s happening?”

  “What’s happening?” How much do you know? I'm beginning to hate this guy.

  “Not much, huh? Did you run away from a fancy college all the smart kids are fighting to get into? What happened? You couldn’t stay at the top, huh?”

  “How much do you know about the college life?” I know this sounds rude. But Jack hurt me first, so I’m fighting back. “College students aren’t like those fighting on the street. No one has to be the number one.”

  “Sure I don’t know. I wish my parents had the money to send me to a college to learn all the shit. But they didn’t. I fought on the street, too. So what? I won. And I found my way to make money. A ton of money. Now I can send my kids to the college and spoil them like you.”

  “What make you think I’m a spoiled kid? I pay for my college. I work hard to pay for everything.”

  “Oh, sure, that’s why you bought that piece of shit—the car that almost killed you last night. Don’t you think your life deserves a safer car?”

  This really hurts. As a student, I did my best already. I’m not the only one who is short on money. This Jack is bad mouthing my hard work. I really hate him. “Look, Jack, there are thousands of students just like me. We work hard to pay for our education.”

  “Tell me you paid for everything.”

  “That’s exactly what I did. I paid for everything.”

  “Everything?” Jack questions.

  “Everything!” I’m so confident. And I’m so proud of myself.

  “You made every penny from the low paying jobs, right?”

  “Right.”

  “How about your designer shoes? How much did your parents pay for them? Two thousand bucks? Five thousands? More?”

  Oops! This guy knows what he is talking about.

  “How about your watch? Isn’t that a Gold Rolex? Don’t tell me it’s not twenty grand before tax. How about that Cashmere wool scarf? I bet you waited for at least a year before it was made for you.” His eyes are wide open when he says “you”.

  “Those are gifts, okay?” I protest.

  “Sure, ‘gifts’. They don’t count, right? How many parents can afford those ‘gifts’? Did you receive gifts like cruise vacations, too? How about those fancy shopping trips? Did your mother pull out the credit card?”

  “You are just jealous, Jack.”

  “I’m not jealous. Why should I? But I don’t hide things from my family.”

  “Tell me you are not. Did you say you are on the run as a murder suspect? Did you tell your parents that?” I become so angry I don’t care if this is going to make him do anything bad to me.

  “My family, not parents,” he puts lots of focus on the word “family”.

  “Oh, sure, family,” I mimic his tone and put the focus on the word “family”, too. “How about your parents? Did you tell them where you are heading and why?”

  “I don’t tell them a thing. I don’t talk to them at all. Are you happy now?”

  “So why do you think I should tell my parents everything?”

  “Because,” he looks into my eyes. “My parents are dead but yours are not. You are going to make them worry.”

  This is really a surprise to me. I feel really sorry for him. But I’m so angry now I don’t want to show my sympathy at all. “They are not going to be worried.”

  “Oh, yeah? You are going to find a great job and then call them, right?” he switches to a high pitch voice and then continues. “Hey, Mommy, I got this great waitress job and I’m making way more than a medical doctor.”

  “Why do you think you can make a ton of money but I can’t?”

  “Because,” He stops for a moment and then says, “you don’t know how to find food in the garbage.”

  “I can learn,” I shot back right away. Oops.

  “Huh…” he laughs really loud.

  “What’s so funny? I can learn all the skills to make money.”

  “Oh, yeah, Miss Strong? The real world is ugly. You have to be tough.” He raises his fist. “Tough. Understand?”

  “I am tough.” I raise my fist, too.

  “Look, being tough needs strategy, too. What if something really bad happens, like being stuck in a stalled car with no one coming for the rescue? What if something even worse happens?”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “Sure, I don’t.”

  This conversation was unpleasant. But I begin to like him more. Why? I don’t know.

  Chapter Ten

  We stop to gas up. Jack smiles at me like we never argued. I smile back.
To be with him is still pleasant.