Later that night after the party, after her tense conversation with Andre, it came. It happened. The ring tone on her cell phone went off, time after time. Each time she got up and left the room, as if leaving the room was a reason not to answer it. As if leaving the room when the phone rang would mean that no one called. As if leaving the room would make it easier for her to lie later on when she was asked why she didn’t pick up.
Even without checking the caller ID, she knew who it was.
She’d left the party quite abruptly without speaking to anyone after her encounter with Andre. After what he said she simply couldn’t face those people, much less talk with any of them. Just being in the same room with them...it was awful. Every eye would be on her and everyone would be wondering. Did Bob fuck her? Like is she possibly pregnant with his baby? They’d all be wondering.
Was Andrea really right? Did they all know about the set up between Bob and Professor Brown? Were they waiting for a status report from Bob about meeting and humiliating her white suburban ****** over Christmas? Were they really waiting to hear about how she destroyed her relationship with her white ******, destroyed their Christmas and how he got his White Pussy Christmas after all?
Were they waiting to hear about how he fucked her, about how they shared a bed under her white parents’ roof...how he fucked their white ******** and how she sucked his black dick while her parents and siblings were asleep just a few doors down the hall?
Asleep? Really? Did anyone think a white bread suburban white ****** would sleep a wink while their college age ******** shared her bedroom with her black boyfriend? The whole point of bringing him home, parading him before the whole ****** and then sharing a bed with him under their very roof was that no one would sleep that night. Obviously they’d all be awake and all be listening. But would they hear her? Would they hear the moans and groans and creaking of the bed and the unmistakable sounds of sucking and fucking....of interracial sucking and fucking?
Interracial sucking and fucking.
She knew the thought of those words would be jarring to her ******. Just the thought of her sucking and fucking a black guy would make them crazy. But doing it under their own roof? And doing it so openly and blatantly?
She knew that’s what he wanted. She had wanted it too.
Finally she answered the phone. Caller ID told her it was Bob.
“Hello Bob,” she answered, trying to sound glad to hear from him, even though she dreaded it.
“Hello Baby. Thank God you finally picked up. I thought something might be wrong.”
She cold hear the uncertainty in his voice. Even though all had been well between them, she knew he’d seen her lose her composure with Andre. Everyone had seen it. Everyone knew. Just like everyone had known about the set up of her with Bob by Brown. She felt like a fool. But she also felt glad to hear his voice, even though she could tell he was faking it.
“Wrong? What could possibly be wrong?” she lied to him. “You’re still going with me aren’t you? To spend Christmas with my ******?”
“Of course baby. Of course. I have been so looking forward to it.”
“Wonderful. Me too. You all packed?”
Would Bob mention Andre? Would he dare? Did he have the nerve, the nerve to mention it, to ask about it? Did he have the nerve to pretend nothing happened and just go on and on.
“Yeah baby. I’m all packed and I have something to tell you...well to show you, actually.”
“Really? What’s that?”
“I bought a new suit. A whole new outfit really. A new shirt and tie. New dress shoes.”
She was startled by that.
“Wow. What’s the occasion?”
“The occasion? Meeting your ******. Of course. I want to put my best foot forward. I want to make a good impression. You know, to look professional. I want them to like me.”
To make a good impression? To look professional? To her white ******? Was he kidding? Was he delusional? The issue wasn’t his wearing a business suit with matching tie and accessories. The issue was that he was black and her conservative, Christian white ****** would be breathless at her effrontery in bringing him home and sleeping with him in her bedroom at night.
What kind of an idiot could really think wearing a suit or slacks and a sweater would make any difference? Would her white ****** really be more accepting of a black boy friend fucking their white ******** just because he wore a suit?
He broke the silence.
“Hey. Baby! You there?”
His voice jarred her from her thoughts.
“Is everything OK?”
“Yeah Bob. Everything is OK. I...I’m just so impressed that you have so much respect for my ****** that you’d go out and buy a suite and a new shirt and tie and all that. I’m so impressed that you want to show so much respect for my ******.”
“Well why not? You were so nice to my people and to the black church people.”
Nice? Was he kidding. Sure she was nice. But she didn’t suck his cock right down in front of them all, the way he was counting on her doing him in her parents’ house.
“I can hardly wait to see you like that. All dressed up. I’m sure my parents will just love you.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Of course baby.”
“Well you know them better than I do. Say...”
“What baby?”
“There was something that....”
“Yes?”
The seconds ticked away as she could sense he was summoning his courage to mention the party.
“I saw you talking to Andre.”
“Yeah. He’s a nice guy.”
“Yeah. That too. I just wondered....”
“Wondered what baby?”
“Are you OK? Did something happen between you two?”
“Nothing happened. We just talked. I’d never really talked to him before. Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know,” he lied. “No reason.”
“You must have a reason or you wouldn’t have asked.”
“Well you looked upset and you left kind of ....suddenly. You looked like he said something that upset you.”
“No. No he didn’t upset me.” It was her turn to lie.
“Well there’s....”
“There’s what?”
“There’s something about Andre.”
“What does that mean?”
“He’s just...he’s not like the rest of us. There’s something....something about Andre.”
“Who says so?”
“Everyone has noticed it. Everyone thinks he’s ...he’s kind of off on his own. He doesn’t seem to like Professor Brown.”
“Did he say that?”
“Oh no. No. Not at all, but you know...you can tell some times. And he doesn’t seem to really be into the whole black scene. Wanna’ know the truth?”
“Of course. What’s the truth....about Andre?”
“He scares people. He fuckin’ scares people. He has this strong silent type of attitude. He was in the Army or something. I think he’s killed people.”
“Did he say so?”
“Not to me. But that’s the word. He’s just kind of cold and very much into his own world. Beyond that, no one seems to know much about him.”
“He seems very smart.”
“Well no one says he’s stupid.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“He scares people.”
“Which people?”
“Other people in the class.”
“You mean he scares black people.”
“Well yes.”
“Does he scare you?”
Silence was his response and she watched the seconds ticking away as he struggled to give her an answer.
“No. Of course not. Why would I be afraid of him?”
“No reason I know.”
He changed the subject, sensing that she knew he was lying. He couldn’t stand the idea that he was afraid of Andre. He’d never thought of it that way.
“God I wish we were together.”
“Me too baby. But we will be.”
“Yeah. The day after tomorrow. Just one more day of class and we drive up to your parents.”
“Say Bob?”
“Yeah Baby.”
“I’m skipping class tomorrow.”
“Skipping? Why?”
“Some things I have to do. You’ll come and pick me up and we’ll drive up to my parents on Christmas Eve. Just like we planned.”
“OK baby. I’ll miss you.”
“I miss you too Bob.” It was her turn to lie. The real reason was she couldn’t bear to sit in that class with every eye on her, knowing what they were all thinking.
She ended the call on a positive note. “Don’t forget about me baby. Remember. Pick me up day after tomorrow like we agreed.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
By mutual consent, the call was terminated. She sat alone in the silence of the room. She wouldn’t see him tomorrow. She wouldn’t see Andre either. Had she hurt Bob? Had she hurt him by talking to Andre? Had she hurt him by leaving the party? Had she hurt him by bull shitting him on the phone?
Probably. She could tell when guys were disappointed. Now she was alone. She’d be alone until he picked her up the day after tomorrow. Now she regretted bushing him off. She regretted being alone. Suddenly loneliness was really eating at her. Desire for someone was eating at her.
Bob was a nice guy. He’d been so considerate to her during all their work together, visiting black churches and white churches and all that sort of thing. He was tall, he was strong, he was black...and he had a great cock. She wished she had him here now. She loved his wonderful cock. So big. So smooth. So...so powerful. So perfect. A perfect cock.
She loved the way it sprang free when he unbuckled and unzipped and pulled down his briefs. It glistened. She loved that. She loved the veins. She loved the proud, circumcised head. She loved his smile, the way his eyes twinkled with anticipation. She loved how he breathed so deeply and how his body trembled when she brushed him lightly with her fingertips before taking him in her mouth and bobbing rhythmically up and down. Sometimes he’d moan and even cry out, it felt so good.
Whatever his faults, he was tall and black and confident and he cared for her. He was confident enough to meet her white ****** on their own ground. She was really looking forward to it, to presenting her black boyfriend to her white ****** at Christmas.
Now Andre. Andre.
She took a deep breath.
“Andre. Andre. Andre.”
She said his name out loud, three times.
Why now? Why now? Why now when everything was going so perfect did Andre loom up out of no where and shatter everything for her? Why?
The obvious answer was that Andre wanted to fuck her. He wanted to challenge Bob for her. Two black men fighting for one white woman. Well first round to Andre. Bob just stood back and let them talk, all alone on the other side of the room. Bob was scared of Andre. He was scared of him. Not necessarily physically scared in the sense that he feared Andre might kill him. But he was intimidated by Andre.
His behavior, his call, his tone, his entire reaction to her being with Andre...Bob was on the run. Their relationship was hers to terminate if that’s what she wanted. But did she want it? Is that what she wanted?
Bob was a cool black guy, popular with the class. Bob loved her to death, would do anything for her. Anything as long as she sucked his dick. She smiled. His dick. That was her hold on him. He was putty in her hands as long as she sucked that wonderful dick. Sometimes she wondered which of them enjoyed it more. Women enjoy oral sex too. They really do. She loved it. She loved sucking him off. It was not a very heavy burden to bear, being willing to give him what he wanted.
But...there was Andre. Out of nowhere. She’d lain awake thinking of Andre. Andre. Andre. Andre.
But was he safe? He had a reputation as a killer. A killer? How could they know? How could they know what he did over there, in the Middle East? So what if he did kill people? So what? It scared her but it excited her. To suck the cock of a man who’d killed people in combat? To sleep with him, to fuck him. To wake up with him.
What was he like? What would he be like with her? Would he constantly be after her to give him road head the way Bob was? Probably not. Andre was beyond that, somehow. He just didn’t seem to be like that. Not that he was timid. Not that he was shy. But road head? Not Andre. He was more like anchoring off a crowded beach on a yacht and having her suck his cock on deck under the shade of a canopy over them. They’d be just far enough off shore that no one could really see his cock in her mouth, but close enough that they could imagine it.
That thrilled her. That was real excitement. A yacht. Or at least some kind of boat big enough to make a statement.
Or maybe jogging on the beach at night totally nude. Would he be up for that?
How would he feel about cruising the freeway at night with her sitting in the passenger seat....totally nude?
Or standing on a hotel balcony high up on the top floor, him in a suit and her in nothing but jewelry and high heels. Standing next to him almost totally nude?
There were a dozen things he could do with her to show his confidence and his aplomb. And none of them were as common and juvenile as “road head.”
Life was full of conflicts and dilemmas. Her first dilemma was showing up at Christmas with a black lover. Now it was how to move from one black lover to the other? Did she want too...want to do that?
Bob might be a little common, a little too eager, but he was a known quantity. Andre....he was strong, dark, mysterious. What if he was into bondage, tying up white women and urinating on them or something really God awful. Bob’s limits were known to her. She could stop him if things threatened to get out of hand. He was safe. He was....
She swallowed. She took a deep breath.
Bob was weak. He was fucking weak. He was cool, he was black, he had a big dick...but he was weak.
Suddenly she realized she was beginning to feel the same way toward him as she had felt toward weak, small dicked white boys for a long time. Being nice wasn’t enough. Not being black and having a big dick wasn’t enough. She wanted strength. She wanted confidence. Andre had those things. She knew it. So did everyone else. All the others with their loud talk and bluster. When Andre came in things got silent and people stepped aside.
God! She ached to walk in with him, arm in arm or at least together. She ached to give herself to Andre, to a strong black man instead of a weak one. A tear streaked down her cheek. A tear, for God’s sake. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.
A tear for a man she barely knew? What was happening to her?
Oh God! Oh God!
If she skipped class tomorrow, she wouldn’t see Andre again for two weeks. Two weeks! Two weeks!
Two weeks of waiting and wondering and aching and hurting. She’d already told Bob she was skipping class tomorrow. She shrugged and wiped her eyes. So what? What was he going to do if she decided to show up instead of skip. What then?
Christ! There was no easy answer. None. If she showed up and fell all over Bob, what would Andre think? If she ignored Bob and talked to Andre, or just sat there glancing at him, looking over at him, straining for some acknowledgment from him. And then the rest of the class. All those fucking assholes. They knew. They’d seen her and Andre and the party. That fucking party. They’re all standing there at the party watching her trembling breathlessly in the presence of the man they all respected and feared. They knew about her and Andre. They all knew. Just as they knew about her and Bob. If she showed up they’d all be glancing sideways the whole time, looking for some tell tail sign, waiting for something to explode. Even that asshole Brown. He’d have been tipped that something happened between her and Andre at the party.
What to do? Going to class and having to pretend everything was normal...it was unbearable. Going for two weeks without talking to or even seeing Andre...it was unendurable.
What to do? What the Hell to do?
Even without checking the caller ID, she knew who it was.
She’d left the party quite abruptly without speaking to anyone after her encounter with Andre. After what he said she simply couldn’t face those people, much less talk with any of them. Just being in the same room with them...it was awful. Every eye would be on her and everyone would be wondering. Did Bob fuck her? Like is she possibly pregnant with his baby? They’d all be wondering.
Was Andrea really right? Did they all know about the set up between Bob and Professor Brown? Were they waiting for a status report from Bob about meeting and humiliating her white suburban ****** over Christmas? Were they really waiting to hear about how she destroyed her relationship with her white ******, destroyed their Christmas and how he got his White Pussy Christmas after all?
Were they waiting to hear about how he fucked her, about how they shared a bed under her white parents’ roof...how he fucked their white ******** and how she sucked his black dick while her parents and siblings were asleep just a few doors down the hall?
Asleep? Really? Did anyone think a white bread suburban white ****** would sleep a wink while their college age ******** shared her bedroom with her black boyfriend? The whole point of bringing him home, parading him before the whole ****** and then sharing a bed with him under their very roof was that no one would sleep that night. Obviously they’d all be awake and all be listening. But would they hear her? Would they hear the moans and groans and creaking of the bed and the unmistakable sounds of sucking and fucking....of interracial sucking and fucking?
Interracial sucking and fucking.
She knew the thought of those words would be jarring to her ******. Just the thought of her sucking and fucking a black guy would make them crazy. But doing it under their own roof? And doing it so openly and blatantly?
She knew that’s what he wanted. She had wanted it too.
Finally she answered the phone. Caller ID told her it was Bob.
“Hello Bob,” she answered, trying to sound glad to hear from him, even though she dreaded it.
“Hello Baby. Thank God you finally picked up. I thought something might be wrong.”
She cold hear the uncertainty in his voice. Even though all had been well between them, she knew he’d seen her lose her composure with Andre. Everyone had seen it. Everyone knew. Just like everyone had known about the set up of her with Bob by Brown. She felt like a fool. But she also felt glad to hear his voice, even though she could tell he was faking it.
“Wrong? What could possibly be wrong?” she lied to him. “You’re still going with me aren’t you? To spend Christmas with my ******?”
“Of course baby. Of course. I have been so looking forward to it.”
“Wonderful. Me too. You all packed?”
Would Bob mention Andre? Would he dare? Did he have the nerve, the nerve to mention it, to ask about it? Did he have the nerve to pretend nothing happened and just go on and on.
“Yeah baby. I’m all packed and I have something to tell you...well to show you, actually.”
“Really? What’s that?”
“I bought a new suit. A whole new outfit really. A new shirt and tie. New dress shoes.”
She was startled by that.
“Wow. What’s the occasion?”
“The occasion? Meeting your ******. Of course. I want to put my best foot forward. I want to make a good impression. You know, to look professional. I want them to like me.”
To make a good impression? To look professional? To her white ******? Was he kidding? Was he delusional? The issue wasn’t his wearing a business suit with matching tie and accessories. The issue was that he was black and her conservative, Christian white ****** would be breathless at her effrontery in bringing him home and sleeping with him in her bedroom at night.
What kind of an idiot could really think wearing a suit or slacks and a sweater would make any difference? Would her white ****** really be more accepting of a black boy friend fucking their white ******** just because he wore a suit?
He broke the silence.
“Hey. Baby! You there?”
His voice jarred her from her thoughts.
“Is everything OK?”
“Yeah Bob. Everything is OK. I...I’m just so impressed that you have so much respect for my ****** that you’d go out and buy a suite and a new shirt and tie and all that. I’m so impressed that you want to show so much respect for my ******.”
“Well why not? You were so nice to my people and to the black church people.”
Nice? Was he kidding. Sure she was nice. But she didn’t suck his cock right down in front of them all, the way he was counting on her doing him in her parents’ house.
“I can hardly wait to see you like that. All dressed up. I’m sure my parents will just love you.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Of course baby.”
“Well you know them better than I do. Say...”
“What baby?”
“There was something that....”
“Yes?”
The seconds ticked away as she could sense he was summoning his courage to mention the party.
“I saw you talking to Andre.”
“Yeah. He’s a nice guy.”
“Yeah. That too. I just wondered....”
“Wondered what baby?”
“Are you OK? Did something happen between you two?”
“Nothing happened. We just talked. I’d never really talked to him before. Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know,” he lied. “No reason.”
“You must have a reason or you wouldn’t have asked.”
“Well you looked upset and you left kind of ....suddenly. You looked like he said something that upset you.”
“No. No he didn’t upset me.” It was her turn to lie.
“Well there’s....”
“There’s what?”
“There’s something about Andre.”
“What does that mean?”
“He’s just...he’s not like the rest of us. There’s something....something about Andre.”
“Who says so?”
“Everyone has noticed it. Everyone thinks he’s ...he’s kind of off on his own. He doesn’t seem to like Professor Brown.”
“Did he say that?”
“Oh no. No. Not at all, but you know...you can tell some times. And he doesn’t seem to really be into the whole black scene. Wanna’ know the truth?”
“Of course. What’s the truth....about Andre?”
“He scares people. He fuckin’ scares people. He has this strong silent type of attitude. He was in the Army or something. I think he’s killed people.”
“Did he say so?”
“Not to me. But that’s the word. He’s just kind of cold and very much into his own world. Beyond that, no one seems to know much about him.”
“He seems very smart.”
“Well no one says he’s stupid.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“He scares people.”
“Which people?”
“Other people in the class.”
“You mean he scares black people.”
“Well yes.”
“Does he scare you?”
Silence was his response and she watched the seconds ticking away as he struggled to give her an answer.
“No. Of course not. Why would I be afraid of him?”
“No reason I know.”
He changed the subject, sensing that she knew he was lying. He couldn’t stand the idea that he was afraid of Andre. He’d never thought of it that way.
“God I wish we were together.”
“Me too baby. But we will be.”
“Yeah. The day after tomorrow. Just one more day of class and we drive up to your parents.”
“Say Bob?”
“Yeah Baby.”
“I’m skipping class tomorrow.”
“Skipping? Why?”
“Some things I have to do. You’ll come and pick me up and we’ll drive up to my parents on Christmas Eve. Just like we planned.”
“OK baby. I’ll miss you.”
“I miss you too Bob.” It was her turn to lie. The real reason was she couldn’t bear to sit in that class with every eye on her, knowing what they were all thinking.
She ended the call on a positive note. “Don’t forget about me baby. Remember. Pick me up day after tomorrow like we agreed.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
By mutual consent, the call was terminated. She sat alone in the silence of the room. She wouldn’t see him tomorrow. She wouldn’t see Andre either. Had she hurt Bob? Had she hurt him by talking to Andre? Had she hurt him by leaving the party? Had she hurt him by bull shitting him on the phone?
Probably. She could tell when guys were disappointed. Now she was alone. She’d be alone until he picked her up the day after tomorrow. Now she regretted bushing him off. She regretted being alone. Suddenly loneliness was really eating at her. Desire for someone was eating at her.
Bob was a nice guy. He’d been so considerate to her during all their work together, visiting black churches and white churches and all that sort of thing. He was tall, he was strong, he was black...and he had a great cock. She wished she had him here now. She loved his wonderful cock. So big. So smooth. So...so powerful. So perfect. A perfect cock.
She loved the way it sprang free when he unbuckled and unzipped and pulled down his briefs. It glistened. She loved that. She loved the veins. She loved the proud, circumcised head. She loved his smile, the way his eyes twinkled with anticipation. She loved how he breathed so deeply and how his body trembled when she brushed him lightly with her fingertips before taking him in her mouth and bobbing rhythmically up and down. Sometimes he’d moan and even cry out, it felt so good.
Whatever his faults, he was tall and black and confident and he cared for her. He was confident enough to meet her white ****** on their own ground. She was really looking forward to it, to presenting her black boyfriend to her white ****** at Christmas.
Now Andre. Andre.
She took a deep breath.
“Andre. Andre. Andre.”
She said his name out loud, three times.
Why now? Why now? Why now when everything was going so perfect did Andre loom up out of no where and shatter everything for her? Why?
The obvious answer was that Andre wanted to fuck her. He wanted to challenge Bob for her. Two black men fighting for one white woman. Well first round to Andre. Bob just stood back and let them talk, all alone on the other side of the room. Bob was scared of Andre. He was scared of him. Not necessarily physically scared in the sense that he feared Andre might kill him. But he was intimidated by Andre.
His behavior, his call, his tone, his entire reaction to her being with Andre...Bob was on the run. Their relationship was hers to terminate if that’s what she wanted. But did she want it? Is that what she wanted?
Bob was a cool black guy, popular with the class. Bob loved her to death, would do anything for her. Anything as long as she sucked his dick. She smiled. His dick. That was her hold on him. He was putty in her hands as long as she sucked that wonderful dick. Sometimes she wondered which of them enjoyed it more. Women enjoy oral sex too. They really do. She loved it. She loved sucking him off. It was not a very heavy burden to bear, being willing to give him what he wanted.
But...there was Andre. Out of nowhere. She’d lain awake thinking of Andre. Andre. Andre. Andre.
But was he safe? He had a reputation as a killer. A killer? How could they know? How could they know what he did over there, in the Middle East? So what if he did kill people? So what? It scared her but it excited her. To suck the cock of a man who’d killed people in combat? To sleep with him, to fuck him. To wake up with him.
What was he like? What would he be like with her? Would he constantly be after her to give him road head the way Bob was? Probably not. Andre was beyond that, somehow. He just didn’t seem to be like that. Not that he was timid. Not that he was shy. But road head? Not Andre. He was more like anchoring off a crowded beach on a yacht and having her suck his cock on deck under the shade of a canopy over them. They’d be just far enough off shore that no one could really see his cock in her mouth, but close enough that they could imagine it.
That thrilled her. That was real excitement. A yacht. Or at least some kind of boat big enough to make a statement.
Or maybe jogging on the beach at night totally nude. Would he be up for that?
How would he feel about cruising the freeway at night with her sitting in the passenger seat....totally nude?
Or standing on a hotel balcony high up on the top floor, him in a suit and her in nothing but jewelry and high heels. Standing next to him almost totally nude?
There were a dozen things he could do with her to show his confidence and his aplomb. And none of them were as common and juvenile as “road head.”
Life was full of conflicts and dilemmas. Her first dilemma was showing up at Christmas with a black lover. Now it was how to move from one black lover to the other? Did she want too...want to do that?
Bob might be a little common, a little too eager, but he was a known quantity. Andre....he was strong, dark, mysterious. What if he was into bondage, tying up white women and urinating on them or something really God awful. Bob’s limits were known to her. She could stop him if things threatened to get out of hand. He was safe. He was....
She swallowed. She took a deep breath.
Bob was weak. He was fucking weak. He was cool, he was black, he had a big dick...but he was weak.
Suddenly she realized she was beginning to feel the same way toward him as she had felt toward weak, small dicked white boys for a long time. Being nice wasn’t enough. Not being black and having a big dick wasn’t enough. She wanted strength. She wanted confidence. Andre had those things. She knew it. So did everyone else. All the others with their loud talk and bluster. When Andre came in things got silent and people stepped aside.
God! She ached to walk in with him, arm in arm or at least together. She ached to give herself to Andre, to a strong black man instead of a weak one. A tear streaked down her cheek. A tear, for God’s sake. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.
A tear for a man she barely knew? What was happening to her?
Oh God! Oh God!
If she skipped class tomorrow, she wouldn’t see Andre again for two weeks. Two weeks! Two weeks!
Two weeks of waiting and wondering and aching and hurting. She’d already told Bob she was skipping class tomorrow. She shrugged and wiped her eyes. So what? What was he going to do if she decided to show up instead of skip. What then?
Christ! There was no easy answer. None. If she showed up and fell all over Bob, what would Andre think? If she ignored Bob and talked to Andre, or just sat there glancing at him, looking over at him, straining for some acknowledgment from him. And then the rest of the class. All those fucking assholes. They knew. They’d seen her and Andre and the party. That fucking party. They’re all standing there at the party watching her trembling breathlessly in the presence of the man they all respected and feared. They knew about her and Andre. They all knew. Just as they knew about her and Bob. If she showed up they’d all be glancing sideways the whole time, looking for some tell tail sign, waiting for something to explode. Even that asshole Brown. He’d have been tipped that something happened between her and Andre at the party.
What to do? Going to class and having to pretend everything was normal...it was unbearable. Going for two weeks without talking to or even seeing Andre...it was unendurable.
What to do? What the Hell to do?
