Call Me (11 page)

“Shut up. I’m doing research for work. I have to keep looking up from my screen; I need to make sure the police aren’t coming to arrest me. You should see some of the shit I’ve typed into the Google search bar. My mom would surely be proud,” I beam.

“Ohhhh!
Fun
research I can condone. Here I thought you were going for class pet.”

“Naw, I’m trying to go for top-rated Phone Sex Superhero. Regulars equal more money,” I whisper, leaning in closer across the table.

“Gotcha. Okay, share. Tell me what exciting stuff you’ve learned, oh dulcet-voiced one. I bet in no time you’ll be the Master Yoda of phone sex.”

“Master of Phone Sex will I be, yesssss…”

“Not with
that
voice you won’t.” she laughs. “M’kay, tell me something fun?” Court asks, blowing across her mug.

“Okay. Did you know there are some really fucked-up people out there? I read about one girl who had a ‘melon humper’. This guy would call and want her to talk him through how he should fuck a watermelon or a cantaloupe. I guess he would want her to talk him through scooping out the hole and everything.”

“That’s epic. God, I hope you get that guy.” She claps her hands in delight.

“Don’t wish that on me!”

“Whatever. It’s not like he’s asking you to fuck his dog.”

“True, but still, it would be so hard not to laugh. And I read that laughing is the worst thing you can do, could even scar a caller, make them feel shamed. They suggest using a pillow to laugh in, if needed.” I giggle at the thought.

“We need to get you a bigger box to hold all your props, I think, eh?”

I agree we just might.

“One of the strangest things I read was from a woman who worked a line in Las Vegas. Her name is Lilac. She suggests dressing the part, says to wear sexy lingerie and to let yourself get into it. She says she got off sexually more from being an operator than from her marriage. In the end, she admitted that she had to quit her job because she was starting to picture her callers rather than her hubby when making love. Imagine?”

“That’s crazy. I’m sure that’s an extreme case. I’m pretty sure we don’t have to worry about you not dating because of your job.” She gives me a dirty look.

“Shush. You know the last thing I have time for right now is dating. Besides, from the sounds of it, I’m going to be getting more action than you,” I joke.

“Shit. Maybe I should apply. Then I can make money, get off, and have extra time to get school work done.”

“Or you could actually spend time completing your schoolwork early instead of leaving it to the last minute. I bet that would free up time to date,” I say.

“Nah, cramming is the way to go and boys are dumb. Maybe there’s something to these phone sex lines. I should give one a try, there’s gotta be a man line out there, right? I mean, equal rights and all.”

“Oh Jesus. I’d pay to hear that call,” I say, packing up my bag and slinging it over my shoulder, having realized we’d better get moving if we’re going to be on time for class.

“Please let me be paired with Jax, please let me be paired with Jax…” Court repeats the little prayer over and over as we walk towards our thesis seminar.

Today, Professor Ryan is supposed to be matching us with the Teaching Assistant who will be helping to guide us as we work on our thesis papers. Courtney has made it more than clear who she wants. I, on the other hand, could care less who I’m paired with. Other than Professor Ryan being one of the best mentors to have, I’ve heard nothing but good things about Jax, Sam, and Joelle too, and that’s the same impression I had after listening to them speak at our last meeting. In the end, I’m fine with whomever I get. At least that’s what I keep trying to tell myself anyway. Deep down, a part of me hopes to be under Doctor Ryan’s tutelage, and not only for educational purposes, either. It’s getting harder to deny that I’m not completely attracted to the man, and Court never stops reminding me of that fact, either.

“Please, please, pleeeease. Let me be paired with Jax,” Court chants again.

“Why Jax? What’s wrong with the others?” I finally need to know.

“Els, have you seen the man? He is delish. And seeing as the professor is already taken, I might as well go for the next best thing. Jax is the second-in-command. And, boy, would I let him command me. Not that I like him or anything.”

I both cringe and laugh at her comment. “Sure you don’t,” I say. “I was wondering why you wanted to sit up front. And here I was, thinking that it was just you trying to show off your big brain. You just wanted a better view of Jax, maybe get him to notice you. Um-hmm,” I tease, nudging her.

“No. I sit us up close so that you can keep the apple of your eye front and centre. I know what a smitten kitten you are.”

Kitten. “Daddy” and Kitten. Ugh.
“Yeah, right,” I say, suppressing a shiver. “You wish.”

“Aahaha,
you
wish, Els. Just admit it. And admit you want to be in his teaching group, too.” she smirks.

I know Court’s paying extra attention to the way Professor Ryan and I eye each other. She’s been relentless in her teasing about us getting ready to have some kind of torrid love affair. She does all she can to make sure he and I notice each other. Thanks to her, we have permanent seats right in front on Monday mornings. It seems my little sweetie of a bestie is willing to get up extra early to make sure my hot seat is always saved for me. For the past three Mondays, I’ve woken up to a note telling me that she’ll meet me in class.
Isn’t she so helpful?

“Don’t start. You know it’s not true. He’s my teacher. I bet he puts me with Joelle, or maybe even Jax. Stop seeing shit that’s not there.” I nudge her arm again, only harder. This has been my angle for weeks now. It’s all in her head, nothing to see here, move along.

“Oh, it’s there. You’re just being obtuse,” Courtney smirks back.

“I’m not going to sit with you if you keep being a jackass,” I huff, picking up my pace towards the seminar room.

“All right, all right. I’ll stop. But let’s test my theory.”

“I bet I don’t even want to hear this, do I?”

“Let’s say we see if I’m right? That he totally is hot for student? And if I am, I get free rein to tease, bug, attempt to set up, and insinuate that you and that sexy mother of a professor will have a sordid love affair.”

“Like losing would stop you.” I roll my eyes. “So, what’s this test of yours? How on earth are you going to prove this theory?” I ask, becoming annoyed.

For the last three weeks, Courtney’s been on me that I should approach Ace and ask him out. She says he totally keeps spying on me. This I know is true, because he and I have this little staring game going on between us, as if we’re both waiting for the other to make the first move. But we both know we can’t, either, despite any attraction that might be there. I don’t want the man to be fired, after all. And I also don’t want to be known as that girl who fucks her way to an easy “A”.

“I betcha a bazillion dollars you’re in the intriguing man-of-the-hour himself’s group. I bet he calls your name third, so as not to draw attention to it, but if we listen closely enough, we’ll hear his voice change when he calls out: ‘Ellie Hughes’,” she mocks, leading us into the already full room.

“You’re delusional,” I whispercall, moving behind her to our seat, “you need to write and shoot a crazy romance movie to get your inner fantasies out.”

“Okay, but only if you and your man are the stars, otherwise I’m out.”

“Better yet, let’s get you hooked up with your own man so you can leave me alone. I’m going to go find Jax.” I turn to walk to the front.

“Don’t you dare, Ellie,” she snaps.

“Ohhh, what? Can’t take the heat? Aww, are you hot for TA?” I start humming the famous porno soundtrack: “
Bow-chicka-wow-wow!”

“I mean it, Ellie,” she says, looking around the room frantically.

“What, you worried he’ll find out you wanna ‘boink’ him?” I laugh out loud, finally taking my seat.

“Point, Hughes,” she scowls, slapping my arm, and I smile victoriously.

Ace

W
atching Ellie and
Courtney walk in, I know right away that I should have thought with my brain not my cock.

But, opening my laptop, I still click ‘send’ on the mass email I’m distributing to each student, including a schedule with times and locations for the preliminary thesis meetings—among other housekeeping items—now that the thesis writing will be in full swing. Beginning next week, my team and I will meet with our student groups and hatch out a plan for the year. I might have switched Ellie around a few times, but in the end I left her in the best hands.
My hands.

Having recently graded their latest online assignments—the one where I ask the students to tell me about their favourite directors and justify their choices—I knew my decision about Ellie was the right one. As soon as I spotted that she was a Kubrick fan, as well as a Tarantino fan, I knew I needed to work with her. I’m eager to see where her thesis will take her. In the past, I’ve used this paper to help match the students with the TAs whose tastes in filmmakers are most compatible. I ask my TAs to write the same paper, then divide the students based on the likenesses.

Say, for example, Jax. He’s my Francis Ford Coppola guy, so based on student responses, I pair the other F. F. Coppola, Martin Scorsese, Spike Lee and, of course, Sofia Coppola fans with Jax. As for Joelle, she’s my Ang Lee buff, so those listing Akira Kurosawa, The Wachowskis and Zhang Yimou are overseen by her. Sam, he’s my wild card, he loves every genre and lists Kathryn Bigelow as his all time fave. I’ve decided to pair the more eclectic film fans with him, so he’ll oversee those listing Noah Baumbach, Mira Nair, and M. Knight Shyamalan. As for me, my all time favourite director is impossible to name (like flavours of ice cream, it’s hard to pick just one…), therefore I love working with fans of Hitchcock, Tarantino, Kubrick, Ritchie, Wes Anderson, and other outside-the-box thinkers. I’ve found my system to be successful, even if it serves as little more than an icebreaker in initial meetings. Having something in common with the person who’s to guide you while you write one of the hardest assignments of your life is a good feeling. I’ve never had a TA/student pairing that didn’t work out, so until I do, I’ll keep using this method.

Taking my spot in the room’s centre, I begin. “Today’s class will be our last as a large group until the end of the term. I’ll send an email later with our final meeting time. From this point on, you’ll be meeting solely with myself, Jax, Sam or Joelle—my outstanding team of TAs—and the other students in your assigned group. I’ve emailed the schedule for your first meeting time and place and will continue to send info weekly; therefore, it’s imperative that you check your inbox often. All meetings will take place on the specified date without exception, please be sure to take note of yours.”

Rhyming off the groupings, I avoid looking in Ellie’s direction, hoping to God that my naming her third when calling my group out didn’t make my intentional placement obvious. After a few beats, feeling it’s safe to see if she’s looking at me, I chance a look in her direction. My cock instantly nudges against my zipper, when I see Ellie’s breathtaking smile. Seeing who she’s laughing with, however, makes me see all kinds of red.

Fucking Sam.
He’s leaning down in front of her table, talking a little too closely for my liking, looking too intently for what’s appropriate. But it’s him making her laugh that’s pissing me off most. The urge to stomp my feet and yell “she’s mine!” like a child not getting his way begins to take root in my mind. I hate the way she’s giving away her smiles so easily to him; he’s probably thinking he stands a chance. Too bad, buddy, she’s already on my radar.
I’ll
be the one to claim everything she has to give. Smiles, laughs, moans, orgasms. Yeah, the goal is to collect them all.

Mine.

All mine.

Jesus, I need to get a fucking grip, this chick is making me mental. I have to stop thinking this shit. She’s a student. My student.

And she’s Sam’s student, essentially, too. So
neither
of us can have her.

I nod, forcing myself to agree.

Ellie

W
alking out of
the women’s change room at the sports medicine gym, I decide that I better start coming more regularly since I was given a free pass. Plus my appointment to try and convince everyone I can still run is coming up in a few weeks. Truth is, between school, work—and the few weeks I wasted trying to find work—my misery over not getting to compete on the Varsity Blues has been the farthest thing from my mind. I’m adjusting my ear buds when I almost walk right into Dr. Robinson.

“Oh jeez, sorry.” We both laugh as I right myself. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” I raise the iPod clutched in my hand.

“No problem, I saw you. Those things are dangerous. I keep telling my daughter to keep her head up when walking. Maybe you need to follow my advice too,” he says.

“Clearly. They need a crash warning, for sure. Maybe airbags.”

“They sure do. Anyway, how’s the knee doing, Ellie?” Dr. Robinson asks, smiling kindly.

“It’s okay. I’ve been super busy but I’ve got things sorted, and I’ll be here at least four times a week going forward.”

“Good, it’s all about strength training, keeping the knee joints active. It might not get you back on the track, but it may prolong the need for replacement. Make a few appointments with Doctor Reynolds if you want, tell him I sent you. Anyway, I’ll let you get to your workout, no need for you to listen to another one of this old man’s lectures. It’s good to see you, dear,” he says, patting my arm before walking into the change room.

“See ya,” I reply, then walk onto the small gym floor, head down, rifling through my iPod to look for a movie I can listen to while I warm up on the treadmill. I know it’s weird, but while walking I like to listen to movie dialogue. I only like music when running and working through the circuit. Courtney tells me I’m crazy, I insist it’s just a fun visualization game I like to play. I try to see if I can picture the scenes without looking down at the screen.
Hey, whatever, it passes the time.