Wrong (3 page)

"I thought you were a lawyer."

He just stares at me for a second. I think we're both surprised I just said that.

"And I thought you were… not a student." His gaze lingers on mine for a second. I could never get tired of looking at those eyes, not that I'll have the opportunity to see them again.

"Take care, Sophie. Good luck." He pats my arm and walks away.

Did he just wish me good luck with getting laid? I stuff the paper bag into my backpack and exit the clinic. I look back over the entrance. Rutherford Miller Memorial Health Center is engraved into the stone above the door, underneath big black metal letters affixed to the building spelling out Student Clinic.

I
pass
the campus shuttle stop outside the clinic in favor of walking. It's warmed up a little now that the sun is out and I don't feel like being cooped up on a bus right now.

There are walking paths all over campus. I can make it from the clinic back to my dorm on foot. Or maybe I'll just head to my next class early. I don't feel like facing my roommate right now either.

My cheeks burn as I recall the last half hour. Is there something wrong with me? Do I have some kind of doctor fetish? To be fair, I was attracted to Luke before I knew he was a doctor, let alone my doctor. But seeing him in that lab coat should have squashed it. It didn't, it made it worse.

The position of authority was a huge turn-on. Would it have been if I hadn't already been fantasizing about him for weeks? I don't think so.

How can I be this attracted to a man I barely know? It was insta-lust for me the first day I saw him. I'm not this attracted to Mike and he's my boyfriend. I'm a bad person. Who feels that way about their own boyfriend? Or am I attracted to Luke because he's unattainable?

Did I date a guy platonically for two years because it was safe? I'm not a risk-taker. I'm good. I never wanted to be my mother. I never wanted to derail my life with an unplanned pregnancy and burden my grandparents with another infant they didn’t plan for.

I know my grandfather worked longer than he would have if they hadn't had to raise me. And they've put off retiring to Florida for too long, wanting to be nearby while I went to college. I finally convinced them to list the house once I entered my senior year at the university a few weeks ago.

I haven't lived at home for more than a few weeks during the summer since high school, but they never wanted me to feel like I had no place to go back to. I had to promise them that if I didn't find a job after college that afforded a decent apartment, I'd come to Florida and stay with them. And they refuse to look at anything in Florida that doesn't have room for me, even if I only stay there a few nights a year.

I make it to the Hymer building early for my next class. I'm debating whether I want to wait inside or out when Everly exits the building. We don't usually cross paths at Hymer on Tuesdays, but I am early.

"Hey, bitch, did you get laid at the doctor's office? You look different."

I roll my eyes at Everly.

"What?”

"Lukesagynecologist."

"What?" Everly tilts her head like I'm talking crazy.

"Luke is a gynecologist. At the student health clinic."

"Shut the fuck up." I think I've managed to shock Everly. "I did not see this coming." She looks at me. "So?"

"So?" I ask.

"So you rescheduled the appointment with another doctor?"

"No. I kept the appointment."

"You kinky bitch, you did not! Stop it."

"I did. I was already sitting on the exam table wearing a paper gown when he walked in. What was I supposed to do?"

"Was it good for you?" She grins at me suggestively.

"Everly!"

"Bitch, I know you enjoyed it. At least a little."

"You think there's something wrong with me, don't you?"

"Sophie, no. That guy has no business being a gynecologist. It's not fair to women."

"I think he's technically an obstetrician."

"Same difference."

"The nurse said he runs a department at the hospital.”

"Well done, Sophie. When you crush, you crush classy."

"Ugh." I cringe. "That reminds me. Do you keep your socks on during a gynecologist exam?"

"Off. So, did you get your prescription?"

"Yeah." I nod. "And a bag full of condoms." I pat my backpack.

"Aww. Dr. Luke cares about your safety."

"You understand I am never waiting on him again, right?"

"Oh, yeah. I figured that out about thirty seconds into this conversation."

"What are you doing on this side of campus anyway? You don't have a class in the Hymer building, do you?"

Everly snorts. "Extra credit."

I groan. "I'm not even gonna ask."

She adjusts her backpack over her shoulder and grins at me. "Your virgin ears couldn't handle it anyway. I gotta run, Sophie. I can't miss my next class. See you on Thursday!"

"Wait, why will you see me on Thursday?" I ask, confused.

"Your waxing appointment!" she calls out as she walks away. "I decided to escort you there myself. Otherwise you won't go."

I'm walking backwards towards the building as Everly shouts directions to meet her in the lobby of my dorm on Thursday when I collide with a muscular wall.

"Oomph."

"Oh, I'm sorry! I wasn't—" I turn around and see Mike grinning at me. "Oh, it's you." I laugh, relieved.

Mike wraps his arms around me and nuzzles my neck. "What's this about a waxing appointment?" he murmurs into my ear.

I guess my vagina is an open topic today.
Viva la vagina.

Mike stands several inches taller than me, but not so tall that I can't press up on my toes and kiss him, which I do now, looping my arms around his neck. His sandy brown hair is messy and needs a cut. "Can you get your room to yourself on Saturday night?"

His eyes light up. "Yeah?"

"Yes," I state firmly.

He slides his hands into the back pockets of my jeans. "I can get my room to ourselves right now."

I laugh and slip out of his arms. "Saturday," I say. "I've got to get to class. Besides, I still need to get that wax you're so nosy about." I smile and start backing towards the building.

His eyes drop to my crotch and he sighs. "We could do a before and after?" he calls out, but I'm already on the steps.

"Saturday!" I reply and walk into the building.

I
bury
my head under the blankets as my roommate's phone alarm beeps. Wednesdays are my sleep-in day and Jean's early class day. Figures.

I hear Jean grab her shower stuff and exit the room. I never saw her yesterday. She must have slipped back into the room after I fell asleep last night. I haven't seen her since… urgh. Monday afternoon.

I walked in on her and her boyfriend having sex. Not a post-coital cuddle. I'm in college, I've walked in on that plenty. And not a demure romp under the covers. Nope. Hell, I had a roommate freshman year who'd do that with me asleep in the next bed. I learned to pee before I went to bed if I didn't want to wake up to something awkward that year.

No, I walked in on Jeannie and Jonathan midday. Lights on. Mid-thrust. In profile to the door. And she was getting double-penetrated. By Jonathan and a toy.

It was like walking into a TMI brick wall. Too much information.

I throw the covers off my head and stare at the ceiling. I mean, I'm curious. But I prefer to be educated by online porn, not my roommate live and in person.

The door clicks open and Jean slips in and takes care to shut the door quietly behind her. She's dried her long hair and dressed in the bathroom in an effort to let me sleep in.

"I'm awake."

"Oh. Sorry, Soph." She looks contrite as she stuffs her shower basket into her bookshelf. Our tiny room is crammed with all the necessities of dorm life.

She looks at me and pauses.

We both burst into laughter.

"I was hoping I'd stayed away long enough for you to forget." She collapses onto the bed and wipes away tears of laughter. "I thought you were in class. I am so sorry you walked in on us."

"Professor LaRoche let us leave early after a group project."

"No, it's not your fault. I should have texted you." She gets off the bed and digs through her dresser drawer. "Thank you for not judging me."

"Oh, I'm judging you," I reply. "I'm awarding you a perfect ten. On flexibility." I can't even finish the sentence before I start laughing again.

"Oh my God. I have never been so happy to have a class I have to be at." She swipes some lip gloss on and screws the container shut.

"Wait!" I call out. "Before I forget to tell you. I'm spending the night at Mike's on Saturday. You've got the place to yourself." I spread my arms wide to indicate our tiny dorm room.

"Okay, good to know." She pauses with her hand on the doorknob, slinging her backpack over one shoulder. "See you later, Sophie."

I flop back onto my pillow and stare at the closed door. I have econ studying to do. I hear doors opening and closing up and down the hallway. A cell phone is ringing somewhere.

Jeannie won't be back for at least two hours. I reach over and slip my iPad off my desk. In a room this small, I don't even have to get out of bed to reach.

I flip open the cover and the device springs to life. I tap on the internet browser and navigate to my favorite porn site, Porn Hole.

Propping open the iPad on the case stand, I navigate through the available videos, looking for something promising. Here's one. Play.

I slip a hand into my pajama bottoms and touch myself. I rub my clit with the tips of two fingers. The blood rushes to my clit as I play with myself. Wait. This girl's voice is so annoying. I'm only two minutes into this video and already my ears hurt. I wonder if this guy is wearing ear plugs. Mute.

I forward to the penetration. That's what I like. I watch as the man on screen slides into the woman. By the contorted look on her face I'm glad I muted her already. The camera zooms in on where they're joined. I watch him slide in and out. He's average-sized, based on my limited porn-viewing research. Maybe a little bigger than Scott.

I rub my clit vigorously in rhythm to the couple on screen. That looks like it feels good. The in and out, her body stretching to accommodate his. I wonder how big Mike is. I haven't sucked him off. After two years of giving Scott blow jobs with no return favors, I'm not exactly in a rush.

I bet Luke is bigger than this guy on screen. He looks like he'd be substantial. I wonder what Luke would feel like inside of me? His finger felt snug.

I rub harder and use my other hand to pinch my breast. I imagine that it's his fingers touching me. It felt nice when he touched me on the exam table, but it was clinical. I squeeze my breast, imagining it's Luke grabbing me roughly. His hands are so much bigger than mine. Stronger.

There was a moment on the exam table when his finger was inside of me, and his thumb swiped across my clit. I clench at the memory.

He's a big guy. Solid. Muscular. More filled out than a college guy. What would it feel like to have him inside of me? It wouldn't be comfortable at first. I know that. But after, after he stroked back and forth, easing into my body. After he sank himself inside of me all the way, my body stretching to accommodate him. After I adjusted to the invasion and he started to really move. What would that feel like with Luke?

Would he bend me over and use my hips to anchor himself as he thrust in and out? Or would he lay me on my back and part my thighs? Settle between them, resting his upper body on his forearms and sucking at my tits as he thrust?

I come.

Thinking about Luke.

Not my boyfriend, Mike.

Did I think about Mike once? I try to recall. Disgusted with myself, I grab my shower supplies and head to the communal bathroom at the end of the hall.

I
hang
my damp towel on my closet door and slip into a pair of old faded jeans before pulling a long-sleeved powder-blue tee shirt over my head. Pulling my still-damp hair over one shoulder, I braid the end of it and secure it with an elastic, then shove my feet into an old pair of Ugg boots, sans socks. I've had these things for years, a Christmas present from my grandparents back in high school.

Grabbing a textbook, I take a seat at my desk and crack it open. This is so dull. I'm tapping my pen against the desk when my phone chirps, like I've missed a call. I pick it up, seeing I've missed three calls, all from my grandmother's cell phone number.

My heart races a little. Why would she call me three times in a row? It looks like I missed all three calls while I was in the shower. I hit play. The first message is a hang up, followed by a message from my grandmother asking me to call her. The third is my grandmother again. "Sophie, it's Gram. Your grandfather slipped on a ladder cleaning the gutters. I'm sure everything will be fine, but we’re at Baldwin Memorial getting him checked out.” She sounds a little distressed. "I'm sure it's fine." The message ends.

Oh, no. I check the call log. She called forty minutes ago. I hit the call back button and pace to the window. Answer, answer, answer. Please answer.

"Hello?"

"Grandma!" I'm so relieved to be speaking with her and not her voicemail.

"Oh, Sophie, good. You got my messages."

"What happened? Is Grandpa okay? What happened?" I'm firing off questions without giving her time to answer.

"He insisted on cleaning out those damn gutters himself and slipped off the ladder. He hit his head and blacked out for a minute. The hospital is going to scan to make sure his back and neck are okay."

“What did the doctor say?"

"Oh, honey, I don't know. We got here a couple of hours ago. We're still in the ER."

"I'm on my way," I say, grabbing my wristlet with my ID, keycard and some cash. Jacket. Where's my jacket? I grab a University of Pennsylvania hoodie.

"Are you sure, Sophie? You don't have a class?"

"No, I don't have any classes this afternoon, Gram. I'll be there soon."