Page 29 of College Boy

“Sure,” she muttered unconvincingly, avoiding his eyes. He reached out to clasp her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head up until their eyes met in the dark.

“This is more than just fake spring break for me,” he insisted, going her one better. “It’s more than fake, period. This feels real to me, you know?”

Emma nodded. Oh, how she knew! “I know,” she insisted. “And you must know by now, this isn’t fake for me either, right?”

He nodded eagerly. “So let’s see what happens this week and, then, well...”

“It’s the ‘then’ part I’m worried about,” she insisted. “Not to mention that sticky little ‘well’ part there at the end.”

His eyes grew moist and, instinctively, Emma knew it wasn’t just a trick of the admittedly dim bedroom lighting. “And I’m not?” His voice broke, too, a soft, quiet creak like an old floorboard being stepped on in the dead quiet of a long, lonely night.

“We’ll face it together?” she practically begged, voice more than taut. “The ‘then’ that’s waiting at the end of this week? The ‘well’ that’s keeping me up at nights?”

He nodded, kissing her forehead lest they break the stillness of the emotional moment. “You and me, Emma. Together. And maybe...”

“Maybe what, baby?”

Mitch shook his head. “It’s too soon to dream that way,” he insisted, crooked smile curling up one corner of his thickly bruised lips.

“I have dreams too,” she insisted hopefully. “Maybe, after all this, I can share them with you.”

He beamed. “I’d love that,” he insisted. “Maybe, on the way back to school?”

His offer hung in the air, Emma wondering if she’d heard him right. “But ... Reggie? The van? Your friends?”

“You mean, the ‘friends’ who ghosted me to go to some stupid concert together in South Florida? The same Reggie who insisted I had to sleep in the pool house and made me promise to lie and say I broke in if his precious mother ever found out? Yeah, it’s either you or Greyhound.”

Emma stirred with excitement. “I couldn’t let you ride the bus, Mitch,” she insisted.

“No?” His voice was equally hopeful, big round eyes to match.

“Of course not, I mean ... what kind of friend would I be then?”

“The kind who’s ... more than a friend, I suppose?”

“Silly boy,” she whispered, pulling him into her arms and wriggling into place against his lean, hard body, still sticky with their lust. “I’ve been more than a friend since we met. And no matter what happens, I’ll be more than a friend until the end.”

She thought it would be her mic drop for the evening, but as always, Mitch had even bigger things in store. “I mean, sure, unless...”

“Unless what, baby?” she cooed, body slipping into sleep mode even as her mind tripped through Fantasy Lane.

“Unless ... it doesn’t end?”

Emma seized, then softened, arms lacing around his neck as words unspoken swirled around her head, their breathing growing heavier even as her heart grew a thousand pounds lighter with each passing breath...

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