I called Ryann that night. I was nervous when I called. I’m always nervous when I call, but I was ready with a few stories so that there wouldn’t be lulls in the conversation. There weren’t. I like that I can come off as a regular, cool guy, even when I’m nervous. We agreed to meet at the university at five o’clock on Thursday.
I arrived with a backpack. The pudding, spoons, and napkins were inside. I spotted Ryann sitting on a bench beside a grassy area. It was a good place for pudding, but I thought it would be good for us to walk around a bit. As I approached her, she seemed prettier than before. Maybe she was wearing makeup. I wasn’t sure, but she did look different. She looked more grown up.
“It’s my favorite math major,” I said.
I extended my hands out to her and pulled her up so that she was standing in front of me and hugged her.
“How have you been?” I said.
“Good. You?”
I looked at her and we both smiled.
“I just got here and already I have a complaint,” I said. “I was expecting to come to the university and meet with that dorky math geek I met the other day. What have you done to her?”
“She told me she’d met this weird guy who wouldn’t stop hitting her and asked me to come in her place. She’s paying me fifty dollars. Not a bad deal, huh?”
“Come on. Let’s go walk around.” I transfered my backpack to my left shoulder and hooked Ryann’s left arm around my right arm so that we were arm in arm.
We’d walked by three buildings when I found a semi-private area under a tree. We sat on the grass and I opened my backpack.
“I hope you like vanilla because I’m taking the chocolate,” I said as I handed her a vanilla pudding.
“What if I want the chocolate?” she said.
“Then you’d be out of luck. You see, I only have one chocolate and one vanilla. And the chocolate’s mine.”
I said these things playfully, but fully commited to eating the chocolate pudding. She looked at me and pouted her lips, pretending to be angry.
“I’ll tell you what,” I said, “You want the chocolate and I want the chocolate, but there’s only one chocolate. Would could each have half of the chocolate and half of the vanilla, but that would be silly, wouldn’t it? We’ll do this. We’ll thumb wrestle for it. Fair enough?”
“Fair enough.”
“It would be best if we had a referee. But we don’t so I’m going to have to trust you won’t cheat.”
I put my hand out. She did the same.
“We’ll do two out of three,” I said.
Her hand was soft and delicate, fingers long and thin. She was pretty. Her eyes were blue like the sky. I looked at her lips and the thought of kissing her excited me and made me nervous at the same time.
“One. Two. Three,” we started.
She was trying to beat me and I wasn’t going to let that happen. Her thumb came around over mine several times, but I would circle out and over until I had her thumb locked between my thumb and index finger.
“It’s two out of three, so you still have a chance,” I said. We were in starting position again. “One. Two. Three.”
This time she cheated. Rather than holding my thumb down with hers, she snuck her index finger behind my thumb and pinned it down.
“Wow. So unfair,” I said. “It starts like this and before you know it, you’ll be cheating at strip poker.”
“I don’t like games of chance, remember?” she said.
We both laughed and I gave her the chocolate. The truth is, I prefer vanilla.
“Tell me about your day,” I said.
“About my day...”
“What was the coolest thing that happened to you today?”
“I found a nickel on my way to my history class.”
“So finding a nickel has been the highlight of your day?”
“Pretty much.”
“Let me tell you something cool that happened to me today. I was having lunch with a friend at Beyond Bread and there was this old couple sitting near us. They were eating, quiet the whole time. When they finished, the old woman took out a book and the old man started reading a newspaper. They did that for a few minutes. Then the old man put the newpaper down and looked at the old woman. She put the book down and reached across the table to take his hand. The sat quietly, holding hands and then got up and left. I don’t think I heard them speak a single word the entire time, but to see them content in each other’s presense, I don’t know, there was something very touching about it. I love it when old people hold hands.”
“I prefer my nickel story,” she said.
“You’re such a dork!” I pushed her shoulder just enough to make her almost spill the spoonful of pudding she was about to put in her mouth.
We sat eating our pudding and getting to know each other—smiles and laughter interspersed. The conversation flowed well. She was a smart girl and had much to talk about. I’ve made the mistake of getting too intellectual with a girl on a first or second meeting and that just doesn’t help to get things intimate. I intentionally kept things light and fun, occassionally dipping into deeper, personal subjects, but staying away from the strictly intellectual. As we spoke, I made it a point to brush her knee with my hand to emphasize a certain point, or I would put my hand on her forearm when we laughed. She looked very comfortable and was touching me too.
I noticed a guy walking toward us along the grass. When Ryann saw him, she said, “Oh, that’s my friend Kyle.”
Kyle came to a stop a few yards from us.
“Hi, Ryann,” he said.
Before Ryann answered, I said, “Hey, you should join us. It’s a great day to sit on the grass with friends.” I extended my hand out to him, “I’m Keith.”
“I’m Kyle,” he shook my hand. He was good-looking and carried himself confidently and gave off a friendly vibe.
“Really, you should sit down and join us for a bit,” I said.
“I would, but I have to get to work.” He looked over at Ryann, “Hey, are you going on Saturday?”
“I think so, are you?”
“Yeah, I wanna go. My brother has a cowboy hat and I think I still have an old pair of boots at my parents’ house,” he said.
“This sounds exciting,” I said. They both laughed.
Ryann turned to me, “There’s going to be a cowboy party on Saturday. It’s going to be a lot of fun. I think you should come with us.”
“Come to think of it, I think I do have some spurs lying around the house. I’ll wear my spurs.”
“Really? You have spurs?” said Kyle.
I laughed. “No, man. I’ve never even owned a pair of boots in my life.”
“I can’t imagine you in spurs,” he said laughing.
“How do you guys know each other?” I said.
They looked at each other, as if trying to remember.
“It was some class,” said Kyle.
“Freshman physics,” said Ryann.
“That’s right,” he looked over at me.
“So I’m trying to imagine you guys dressed up in cowboy gear.”
“It’s going to be funny,” he said.
While we spoke, someone else walked toward us. He was short and looked Hispanic to me. He wasn’t fat, but somehow moved as if he were. “Hey, guys,” he said.
“You hang out with this crazy girl too?” I said.
“I try not to, but you know how it is.” He seemed effeminate when he spoke.
I extended my hand out to him, “I’m Keith.”
“I’m Mario.”
“You should sit down with us for a bit.”
“I think I will,” he said and sat down so that Ryann was between us.
“I gotta go,” said Kyle, “I’ll see you guys on Saturday.” He looked over at me, “You should go. It’ll be fun.”
“I’ll see if I can,” I said.
Kyle patted my on the shoulder and left.
“How do you know Ryann?” Mario asked.
“I was sitting on the grass, reading a book, minding my own business, and she came and sat beside me and started hitting on me. She found irresistable.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Ryann, “I was hitting on you.”
“I believe it,” said Mario. “That’s exactly how I met her too.”
“Oh, so I wasn’t the first one,” I said. “Now I’m jealous.”
Mario was a lot of fun. The more I flirted with and teased Ryann, the more I was convinced that Mario was into me. He was fun and witty. We talked about the cowboy party and when I told Mario I had some spurs at home and was going to wear them on Saturday, he said, “Nothing but spurs.” He’d been flirting with me for a while now. I’d never been hit on by a guy. I thought he might be a good friend to have because he was sure to have a lot of female friends.
“I have to go home,” Mario said getting up. He flung his backpack over his shoulder and looked to me. “It was amazing meeting you.” We shook hands. “I feel you’re—I don’t know—like my soul-mate.”
“You’re a lot of fun. It’s great meeting you too,” I said.
“Here, write down your phone number for me,” he handed me a piece of paper and a pen.
“I’m easier to reach through e-mail.” I wrote down my e-mail address.
He took the paper, wrote his e-mail address on it and ripped it in half, handing me the half with his address on it.
“He’s a good catch,” he told Ryann. “You’d better take good care of him.”
“I will,” she said and Mario walked off and disappeared around the corner of a building.
“You have cool friends,” I said.
“Yeah, they’re both great guys.”
I stood up and pulled her up by the hands. “Let’s go look at some books.”
We walked arm-in-arm across campus toward University Avenue. The blue sky was darkening and the warm air was slowly cooling down. We crossed the street. There were students with laptops sipping drinks at the cafe and students on bicycles passing by. It was a great place to be. I was with a young girl, surrounded by young people. I felt young. Nanda didn’t make me feel young anymore.
We walked into a used bookstore.
Still arm-in-arm, I said, “Imagine us six months from now, madly in love. We walk into this very bookstore, much as we are now. You know how sometimes, your mind takes you somewhere, almost as if you were on auto-pilot. So six months from now, we walk in here. What section of the bookstore do you think your auto-pilot would take us to?”
She lookd around. I wondered if Sexuality had crossed her mind. It must have. When I was nineteen, sexuality always crossed my mind. She was slow to answer.
“You know where I think my auto-pilot would take us?”
“Where?”
“Now don’t laugh. You’re probably thinking we’d end up in Sexuality or some other sexy, slash, romantic section. Maybe a section with danger and adventure. But no. I see my auto-pilot taking us to the gardening section.”
“Gardening?” she said.
“I know. It’s weird isn’t it? But I remember being little and seeing my Grandma and Grandpa kneeling over their gardens on the weekends. Hours would pass them by and they were fully in the moment every second, with each other. There’s also something sensual about digging our hands into the cool, rich soil, and being together during this process of creating life.”
The gaze of her sky blue eyes was locked on me, but not on my eyes, more my general direction. She seemed entranced, focused on something deep inside her mind. Silence.
“Ryann?”
She focused on my eyes now and seemed to have sprung back to the present, out of her internal world. She just looked at me and smiled.
“Let’s go look at magazines,” I said and led her by the hand.
We looked through the magazine rack and flipped the pages of magazines that caught our attention.
“You see this old lady?” I said, holding an opened magazine in front of her.
“Yeah.”
“This is how I imagine you when you get old. But you’ll have teeth, though.”
Then we’d each get back to our own magazine and she find something of interest, show me, and make fun.
“You see this hut?” she said.
“Yeah.”
“That’s where you’re going to sleep. We’re going to live in a mansion in the foothills, but I’m going to have a hut like this one built for you in the backyard and you’ll sleep there.”
I nodded and we each returned to our magazine. I felt my cell phone vibrate in my pocket and reached in and stopped it from vibrating. I walked along the isle of magazines and then went around the back and down another isle. When I took out my cell phone, it showed I had missed a call. It was Nanda. I called her back.
“Where are you?” she said.
“I’m at Bookmans browsing. How’s San Francisco?”
“Don’t remind me. I haven’t left the office in days, but we’re all done and I’ll be home tonight. My plane arrives at ten thirty-seven.”
“I’ll pick you up,” I said.
“I’m glad I’m going home early. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too. See you tonight.”
I walked back to the magazine rack and Ryann wasn’t there. I looked around and didn’t see her. I went around to the back, down a side isle, and came back another isle to the front again. She was looking through the bargain books at the front of the store. I came up from behind her, took her hand and said, “Come on. Let’s go try on funny hats.”
There was a clothing boutique a few shops down from the bookstore. It was empty. We walked in. There were hats. Round hats. Big hats. Pink hats. I put a pink feathered hat on her.
“Perfect,” I said.
She took it off and put it on me. “Not bad, but I think we can do better.”
A middle-aged Asian woman came out from the back. She was carrying sundresses. “Is there anything I can help you find?” she said.
“We’re just looking,” I said. “Thank you.”
The woman carried the dresses to a rack and began to arrange them. Ryann and I took turns trying on hats. “We should have brought a camera,” I said. “On second thought, it’s a good thing I didn’t because you’d be trying to take naughty pictures of me the whole time, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet.”
She was holding a large round hat and shoved it over my head so far down that the brim was covering my eyes. I pushed the hat up so that I could see and went toward her as if to wrestle her to the ground. She ran away. We were children running around the store. The Asian woman seemed entertained.
“You take used articles?” I said to the Asian woman.
“Not usually, but we do take interesting items now and then.”
“How much would you give me for her?” I said, pointing to Ryann. She Asian woman laughed.
“We’d take her for sure,” she said. “Just not sure how much would be fair. How much do you want?”
“What if we trade?” I looked around the store. “I’ll give you the girl if you give me that brown leather vest over there.”
“Oh, I don’t know if I’d give you that much for her.” She was smiling and was having fun with us.
We said good-bye and left. We walked back to the university. I held Ryann’s hand the whole way. She showed me where her car was.
“You wanna get some coffee?” she said.
We stood beside her car and she was standing in front of me. I was holding both of her hands.
“I have to go,” I said.
“Some other time then.”
I looked into her eyes. They looked darker now. We’d arrived at that silent moment. It was time. I was nervous. I leaned in. Our lips met. My hands left hers and went to her waist. She was thin and firm, her lips moist, soft. I backed off and looked at her. A moment passed. Then another. I leaned in again. We kissed. My hands slid up the sides of her body. My right hand reached behind, up along her back, and I pressed her toward me. My hand moved up. I felt her hair, then her neck. I held her neck between my thumb and fingers. It was soft. We kissed.
I lowered my hands to her waist and leaned back. “I have to go,” I said and with that, I left.
On my drive home I thought about Ryann. I’d lied to her and felt bad about it. She thought I was twenty-five. She thought I wasn’t married. White lies. She’s just a girl, I thought. They’re all just a girl. But I liked this one. I found myself thinking of her more and more.
I went to the airport for Nanda. She was tired. We picked up some Chinese food and went home. We ate, and then each showered, and went to bed. We both lay on our side, facing each other. I put my hand on her waist.
“I’m glad you’re home,” I said.
“Me too.”
I kissed her. I knew she was tired. I thought about Ryann. I was reminded of Nanda when we first met. I remembered how things used to be. After she cheated on me, as much as we’d tried, things had not been the same.
“I love kissing you,” I said. I rolled up on her, resting my weight on my elbows to her sides. Slow, soft kisses. I remembered kissing Ryann. I imagined those clear blue eyes as they darkened with the sky. I remembered her thin waist, her firm body. Nanda wasn’t nineteen anymore.
Ryann floated in my mind. I had a hard-on. “You’re beautiful,” I said.
I kissed her cheeks and her neck and between her breasts. I kissed her nipples and painted circles around them with my tongue. I wondered what Ryann’s nipples looked like. Nanda moaned. I licked her belly and then kissed her legs from top to bottom. I could smell her pussy.
I thought about that other man touching Nanda. Fucking her. Tasting her. It still hurt.
My tongue met her pussy lips. I could taste her. A slow, five-second stroke of the tongue. She shuttered. I lapped away. Her hands were on me. Her hips danced. Her legs squeezed around me. I imagined tasting Ryann. I was a kitten, licking away. Rhythmic, persistent. Minutes passed. How many? I varied my tongue strokes. Vertical. Diagonal. Then my fingers were inside her, tongue still working. Her movements were more forceful now. I had trouble keeping contact with my tongue. My free hand was under her, beneath her buttocks, securing her in position so that my tongue wouldn’t lose it’s place. I licked until she disappeared from the world. She was a storm, a twenty second storm. Then all was serene.
I lay beside her. We spooned. She was very wet. I came inside her. We remained in that position, my hand around her, cupping her breast. I thought about Ryann, about Nanda, about infidelity.
Ryann had roommates. I don’t know how she’d feel about having me over. I thought about bringing her home. Impossible. I could get a hotel room. We could spend the night together during one of Nanda’s trips. We could, but it would seem wrong, a hotel room. I was becoming fond of Ryann. A hotel was out of the question.
Nanda was asleep now, her breast in my hand. I liked the way she smelled. I liked holding her. I thought about us, about our past, about infidelity. I could still stop. I could put an end to all this. But would it really be an end? I’d made up my mind. I had to do it.
Chapter 15
