Chapter 2

I woke up the next morning expectant and curious about what was going to happen. I knew it was not over between Professor Ryan and I but had no idea where it could lead. He was building a web and I should have been cutting strands.

Doris Alex was tempting bait though.

I took a shower and got ready for work. I tried not to wake up my roommate but failed since I was not trying very hard.

My roommate was not a bad guy. He was a child of privilege; his parents paid for school, a new car because he got into a good college, etc. He and I populated different realities, but at least I knew that. He did not and thus complained to anyone who would listen that I was an asshole.

I was, but so was he.

I knew I was; he had no clue.

I had two jobs; on Friday nights and weekends as a busboy in what an expensive steak house, and during the week at the school computer labs. One required zero brain cells and the other paid me to do homework.

Thursdays, I had three classes after work but never bothered going to all of them. My majors covered most of my core allowing me to work through my degree classes much sooner than my classmates. I tried to skip most introductory courses; unfortunately, some departments required specific ones. I was only a sophomore and should have fit in with the students taking introductory classes, except I was older and more mature. Two of my Thursday classes were intros I could not avoid but had already taken the higher level versions of. The only class I usually attended on Thursdays was my poetry writing class. It was annoying due to some of the less creative and unconvinced about their lack of talent personalities that populated the class, but there was always one piece per session that made it worthwhile.

I walked into class and looked around for new hair colors. Finding none, I took my usual seat in the back. I was the closest to normal in the room, which did not say much for everyone else. I reread the submitted poetry we were supposed to critique that class period when Melisa Bryar walked in.

I could say I was the 'closest' to normal because Melisa was absolutely and almost obscenely normal.

She was 5 foot 1, blond hair, with light green eyes. The eyes were fascinating; green eyes are usually dark green or flecked with brown. Very few I ever saw were a true green and even fewer a light pure green. I would have to paint the sky green keeping the same saturation and brightness of a summer morning to describe her eyes to someone who had not seen their like before.

Melisa was an all-American girl, so normal I wondered if she was an experiment in socialization by the moral majority. She was a member of the cheerleading squad, a sister in the premier sorority on campus, and an honors student. I lived on her floor our freshman year and she did not date, or hang out with jocks like the other cheerleaders. All she ever seemed to do was study, practice, and socialize with her sorority sisters.

A thought struck me, Melisa's best friend was Doris Alex and both were sisters in the same sorority. I felt the strands vibrate as another spider stepped onto the web.

Melisa smiled at the blue-haired poetess in front as she walked by. The poetess was a lesbian, and reacted to Melisa like a straight guy might have. As Melisa walked by, the poetess turned to check out her ass, grimaced and sighed. It would have been funny if I was not busy trying to figure out how Melisa fit on the web.

I forgot about figuring it out and simply hoped Melisa fit.

Melisa befriended me the year before. I thought it was a function of living on the same floor and being in a majority of the same classes. She sat next to me in class if she did not know anyone, and dragged me to sit next to girls pledging with her or full sisters if any of them attended. None of her sisters were in this class so Melisa quite naturally sat next to me all semester.

I acquired new doubts about how natural 'quite naturally' was.

Melisa made small talk with me about the poems we were reviewing; nothing too weird, thankfully. All of a sudden, I noticed the ring on her right hand; a thick band opening into a flat white stone. I looked at her; the cat smile of Professor Ryan's was reflected on her lips. I stared and she opened her windows to me.

It was there; the attention that Doris Alex had given Professor Ryan's pleasure. Melisa was absolutely focused on me.

I received the third surprise in twenty-four hours when Professor Ryan walked in. He announced that our professor had been awarded a grant to study Irish poetry in its original form and paper. She arranged for Professor Ryan to teach the last weeks of class. He looked directly at Melisa and me. He gave her a satisfied smile; I took it as a warning to brace myself.

Everyone's back straightened.

We were all creative writing majors, which meant Professor Ryan held a trump card. His permission-only seminar ran for two semesters and was an intense writing workshop, more than just a class. He was the only professor in the department widely published in both poetry and fiction, with connections we could only dream of. The seminar was the most valuable course our school offered aspiring authors.

"Melisa and David," he said looking at us, "neither of you has turned in your application pieces for my seminar."

He raised an eyebrow waiting for our answers. The class turned and there were plenty of questions in their eyes. The seminar was on my academic plan and why I asked him to be my advisor. I did not apply for it because I would only be a junior the next year. Melisa would also be a junior and should not have been thinking of the seminar either.

Juniors were rarely accepted in his seminar. Melisa was a talented writer so no one would question her inclusion. There were going to be more than a few bitter wanna-be writers hating me for being in the class.

"I want to do another draft on one of the pieces, Professor Ryan," I heard myself say.

I was not one to spit in the face of opportunity. I had a couple of pieces I could submit on the moment's notice Professor Ryan gave me.

"I put it in your mailbox this morning, sir," Melisa replied.

She was a college student that addressed older people with polite sirs and ma'ams. There was something about the way Melisa said those words that made her more attractive.

Our classmates were still looking at us suspiciously when the critiques began. I smiled, wondering if it would make them feel better to know I was more lost than anyone else in the room.

As I was leaving, Melisa asked if I wanted the notes to one of the classes I skipped. It was the first time she ever made the offer. I watched as she weaved a strand into the web directly under my feet.

Melisa was pleasant bait too.

I told her I would be working on a paper most of the day but she could bring them by my dorm room at around eight p.m.

Professor Ryan caught up to me as I headed for the bus stop. He wanted to reschedule our meeting for the next day at three p.m. I asked if he was sure he would not be busy. He laughed and said he would clear his schedule. I agreed to meet, willingly rolling myself tighter in the web.

I finished my paper, put it in my professor's box and shrugged the class out of my schedule. I preferred professors like Dr. Lawren; the organization of her assigned readings, papers and class discussions made her final a relative breeze. I had signed up to take a course with her the next semester.

I ate dinner by myself and thought about the happenings of the last day. After an hour of trying to see the whole web, I gave up and headed to my room. Melisa was waiting for me in the lounge. She smiled as I came out of the elevator.

I have always loved blondes. Blondes are allowed to do as they damn well please as long as I am allowed to watch. Melisa instinctively grasped this and even leaned on it upon occasion. I thought the non-aggressive attention I gave her was another reason she spent so much time around me.

She had changed into shorts and a t-shirt; very nice shorts, very tight t-shirt. I was surprised by the sexiness of the outfit. I had taken Melisa for a moral majority player, but then again, I classified Doris Alex the same way.

"Hi, David," she said bouncing up to me.

"Hello," I replied with false bravado.

"Got my notes," she said pushing her bookbag at me.

I smiled and answered in conspiratorial whisper.

"How about my room for the exchange?"

She smiled the catnip smile that was beginning to haunt me.

I held the door to my end of the floor for her; she nodded a thanks and walked directly to my door. If she had panties on, they could not have been substantial enough to use as dental floss.

I opened the door to find my roommate inside; I almost expressed my disappointment. Melisa climbed onto my bed; it was higher than normal because I turned the legs upside down then put the frame back on. She bounced on it a few times before looking around. I looked at my roommate, hoping he would be in a considerate mood and leave us alone.

He did not.

Different realities.

I sighed, Melisa gave me an 'I know what you're thinking' smile.

"Well, I guess I'll copy your notes down," I said smiling back.

"Not necessary, I made photocopies for you," she said.

I looked at her questioningly. Her lips turned upward, hinting she was close to the nip.

"How about a movie?" she asked. "I brought some with me. You can pick. I've got the 'The story of O', 'The Lover' and..." she paused dramatically looking at me, "'The Little Mermaid'. I like a warm body next to me when I watch a movie."

I looked at my roommate again but his nose remained buried in his book.

"'The Little Mermaid' sounds good," I said finally; if I was going to watch some love scenes with Melisa I was for sure not going to let my roommate witness it.

"Cool," she said excitedly. "It's my favorite movie."

I did not know how much was play-acting and how much was real. I did know she was a blonde wearing some very nice shorts and a tight t-shirt. She pulled the movie out of her bookbag and crawled to the far end of the bed, unnecessarily throwing in a couple of wiggles. I thought teasing was the only thing on menu so I enjoyed the view.

I like women who tease; it is one of the few times a man is expected to lust openly. It is especially fun when he thinks there is a Doris Alex type payoff somewhere along the line.

She popped the video in, and turned the TV on. She turned around, and crawled back smiling. She knew I had been looking. I smiled mischievously and sat down on the chair by my desk. She lay down on her stomach staring at me while the FBI copyright message came on.

Chapter 3 »