Pushing Limits (11 page)

I study his puzzled expression as he reads, waiting.

“Right.  Ms. Turner, it is clear to me that you are more than
capable of making excellent marks.  Stop fannying around and get on with
it.”  He swishes his hand toward the door.  “Cheers, off you
go.”  He turns back to his paper shuffling process again.

I stand and walk out, completely confused. 
What was that?
 
Where’s the ass chewing?  The berating?  Is that it?

As I walk down the steps of the English building, Karen waits on the
steps so we can walk back to the dorm together.  “What did he say?” she
asks.

“He said, ‘I should stop fannying around and get on with it.’  What
the hell does that mean?”

“It means you need to stop fooling around and start studying.”

“Oh.”  I smile.  “That’s it?”

“Yeah,” she says, straightening her back, “They don’t do a lot of hand
holding at this point.  You either do the work, or they flunk you. 
What did you think of him?”

“Kind of hot…he has a whole Sean Connery-thing going.  Nice
smile.  He’s a bit off, though, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, He’s a tad disorganized.  Did you get a load of his
office?”  She giggles covering her mouth to hide her grin.  “I took
his British Literature class last year.  I tell you what…I could listen to
him all day.  I love a British accent.”  She sighs.  Pushing her
glasses up her nose, she says, “That aside, he’s a good advisor, helpful, kind,
straight-forward.  He’s one of those teachers that doesn’t sugar coat
it.  I have Ms. Prendergast this year.”  She rolls her eyes. 
“Ugh.  Sugary sweet.  I think she’s trying to encourage but she
doesn’t offer any real help.”

As we walk through the quad, a group of guys approach, laughing and
joking around, still dressed in their soccer uniforms.

“Hi Bobby,” Karen says.

“Ladies,” he says drawing the word out with a slight Spanish accent.

“Hey,” I say.

Bobby’s eyes roam up and down my body only to look away in
disinterest.  Turning to his teammate he says, “
Es
un
traje
caliente
.”  He gestures like he’s
touched something hot.

As I pass, I turn back calling, “
Muchos gracias. 
Bolas de acero cuando usted habla
español, huh?
”

Bobby looks mildly surprised, and shrugs.  His Hispanic teammates
crack up and the others look back and forth between us.

Karen asks, her face intrigued, “What did you say?  Shoot, what did
he say?”

I whisper, “He said my outfit was hot.  I said thank you and
commented that he had balls of steel when he thought I wouldn’t understand.”

She cracks up, “Amber, you’re the one with balls of steel.”

“He’s so arrogant.  He kinda gets on my nerves.”  I grimace as
I jut out my chin.  “He never has given me the time of day even though
Sally has introduced us a couple of times.  I catch him watching me, start
to say hello, and he snubs me again.  I guess I’m the latest freak show on
campus.”  I shrug.  “I even have him in one of my classes but he looks
right through me.  Just another jock douchebag.” 

Karen smiles a thin-lipped smile and changes the subject.  “Can you
believe we have to read a whole book on the Reconstruction Era and do a paper
on it by next Tuesday?  I’m starting to remember why I blew off taking
history last year.”  She groans.  “I can’t believe how much homework
we already have and it’s only the first week.”   She pushes a strand
of red hair out of her face.

“What’s the deal with the ‘Sir’?  Is Professor Stewart an English
Lord or something?”

“He’s a knight,” Karen says pushing her glasses up her nose, “I’m not
sure what he did, but he was knighted by Queen Elizabeth before he came to
teach here.  I heard it was for the Falklands War but that’s just a rumor
I heard.”

“Huh, really? Interesting.  Anyway, do you want to study?  I
think Sally is out if you want to go to my room.”

“Sure.  I’m sure Melissa will be in our room.”  She sighs,
groaning, “She’s always there.”  With a smile, she says, “Let me drop off
my books.  Do you have any munchies?  I’m jonesing for some
Ruffles.”  Her hand covers her mouth as she giggles and her green eyes
dance.

“Yeah, Sally got a bunch of stuff last night.  We’re fully
stocked.”  I assure her as we enter the elevator.

“I meant to tell you, I like that outfit.  I wish I had the guts to
wear edgier stuff. “

“Thanks.  I got a few stares today but I’m getting used to it. 
I don’t exactly dress like everyone else.”  I look down at my wardrobe
choice for the day.  “I think it’s the fishnets with the holes and the
combat boots that caused all the drama.”

“And, not the cutoff jeans with the midriff hoodie?’  She giggles,
“But, hey, it’s cute.  I like that you don’t try to look like everyone
else.”

“Hey – it’s a Texas College hoodie.”  I sneer playfully. 
Changing the subject, I ask.  “Are you going out with us tonight?” 

“I might.  I’m not sure yet.”  We stop in front of her room and
she unlocks the door. 

As we walk in, Melissa gives us her standard greeting, “What up,
bitches?”

“Hey, Melissa.”  We drone.  Melissa is a couch potato, pure and
simple.  She never leaves the couch except to go to class. 
Definitely no ‘me’ time for Miss Karen, in any sense of the word.  Melissa
is
always
there.

“Let me get my other history books,” Karen says as she crosses to her desk,
lifting the laundry soap off her desk, and putting it back on the shelf above
her.  “Uh, Melissa, did you use my laundry soap again?”

“Yeah, I needed to do a load.”

“Buy your own.  I don’t have the money to do your laundry as well as
my own.  My parents don’t send me money every month like yours do. 
I’m on scholarship.  Stop mooching off me because you don’t want to
venture down to the campus store.”  She stands in front of Melissa with
her hand out.  “I told you last time, you’d owe me ten dollars if I caught
you using my soap again.  Come on, cough it up.”

“Fine.  I don’t know what the big deal is.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”  She rolls her eyes and picks up her
books.

Gliding her eyes up and down, Melissa sneers, “Nice outfit, Amber.” 

“Fuck off, Melissa.”  I never go to Karen’s room for this very
reason.  Her roommate is a total tool.  She’s an IT major and all she
does is go to class, watch TV and play on her computer.  Even though she
is a total dweeb, she still thinks she can bag on me. 
I don’t think
so, Chica
.

“Melissa, be nice.”  Karen rolls her eyes in frustration.  She
walks to the door saying, “See ya.”

We walk the short distance to my room.  Shouting at the door stops
us from going in.

“Are you sleeping with her?”

We lean in, listening at the door.

“What if I am, Lily?”

“You are going to hell in a hand basket, Sally Westin, if you don’t
make yourself right with the Lord.”

“Are you kidding me?  Leave
the Lord
out of it.  You
don’t want me sleeping with anyone but you.  As long as my lips are
somewhere on your body, you’re fine with who I am.  The only time I hear
about
the Lord
is when you’re coming, or giving me crap about whom I
sleep with.”

Shuffling.

“I love you.  You are everything to me.  Everything. 
Why do you treat me this way?  All I want to do is to make you
happy.  I don’t know why you need all those other girls.  What is it
about her?”  Sobbing.

“She doesn’t constantly try to shove me back in the closet with her,
Lily.”

“But, don’t I make you feel good?  Don’t we have fun together?”

“It’s not just about sex.  Listen, you have to stop this. 
We have to stop this…it’s not healthy.”

“But, I don’t want to stop.  You can’t leave
me
. 
No.”

“I’m serious, Lily.  We’re done.”

“We could be so happy.”  Sobbing.   “Why can’t you love
me?”

Karen and I jump back when the door swings open.  A chill runs up my
spine when I stare into Lily’s tearstained face.  Her quiet fury scares
the fuck out of me as she shoves past us.

Sally’s eyes dart to the door as we walk through it.  Wiping her
eyes and obviously embarrassed, she asks, “How much did you hear?”

Knowing how much I hate it when people lie right to my face, I square my
shoulders saying, “From ‘are you sleeping with her?’.”

“Oh.”  Her pained face touches my heart.  “She thinks we’re
sleeping together.” She gives me a sad smirk and adds, “I’m sorry.”

I close my arms around her in a big hug saying, “Don’t worry about
it.  If you want her gone and that’s a way to get her out, let her think
that.  I could care less what she thinks.  If it gets her out of your
life, use me.”  I pull away and grip her arms.  “It’s going to be
ok.  You need to stand firm.  If it’s time to move on, then do
it.  Don’t worry about her.  We have your back.”  I rub my hands
up and down her arms, smiling.

“So ladies, what are we doing tonight?  It’s Friday and I, for one,
need to kick it.”  I smile, my eyes bounce from Karen to Sally. 
“It’s been a while since I’ve actually studied and I am out of practice. 
This week has been a rude awakening and I need to blow off some steam.”

“Yeah, I can’t spend another night in my room with…Melissa.”  Karen
makes a gagging noise.

“I thought you were seeing Tommy sometime this weekend,” Sally says.

“Yeah, well, it’s been crickets…What can I say?” I say, shrugging my
shoulders, “Fuck it.  I need an ego boost.  Let’s get all dressed up
and go to that club you like.”  Glancing at Sally, I try to remember the
name.  “What’s it called?  The Flame?  That’s it.  The one
on Sixth Street you like so much.  Just us girls.  Who knows? 
Maybe Karen can get her little freak flag on.”

“You want to go to a gay club?”  Karen asks, pushing her glasses up
her nose.  Her eyes bug like a deer in the headlights. 

“It’ll be fun.  Angela and I used to go clubbing all the time.”

“But, I’m straight,” says Karen.  Her face befuddled. 

“So?”  Sally counters.

“Come out with us.  If you hate it, we’ll go two doors down to any
of the other hundred bars that cater to straight people,” I say, putting my arm
around Karen’s shoulder.  “Ok, let’s start getting ready.  Sally, we
need some shots.  Karen, go get glammed up and meet back here around
nine.  Ok?”

“Shots first.”  Sally lines up shot glasses and quickly mixes her
yummy vodka lemon shot.  I swear that girl could make bank as a
bartender.  She knows every drink under the sun. 

“To fucked up bitches!”  Sally toasts.

I yell, “I hear that!”  We clink our glasses, slam the shots, and
scatter to get ready.

“I call the bathroom!”  I yell, rushing for the door.

“Really?”  Sally pauses.  “
Really
, Amber?”  Sally
laughs as I run for the door, “You do realize I’m going to come in anyway?”

I run to the door and reach for the knob, shouting. “Not if I lock the
door.”  I scoot in, shut the door, and turn the lock.

“Whatever,” she says through the door.  “Uh, Amber?  Your
clothes are out here.”

“Damn it!” I mutter.  At least I’ll get to shower in peace.  I
start the shower and step in.  This is going to be a blast.  We all
need to let loose. 

I still can’t believe Tommy hasn’t called.  Oh well, maybe I’ll meet
someone new tonight. 

I wonder if I should text him.  And, look like some pathetic
loser?  No way.  Screw that.  Stop thinking about him.

My mind drifts to Karen at a gay bar.  Huh.  I wonder if some
chick will hit on her.  Some women find the brainiac type
attractive.  I wonder if she’s a natural redhead
.
  I giggle.

A soft chuckle lilts off the walls and Sally says, “You come in here just
to giggle to yourself, don’t you?”

“How the fuck did you get in here?”  I screech in frustration.

“Those old turn-style locks are child’s play.  So, what are you
going to wear?”

“You picked the lock?”  I groan with a scoff.  “Of course, you
did.”  I fling my hands up in mock defeat.  “Can’t I have a moment of
peace?  Some me time?”

“Oh Darlin’, if you need some ‘me’ time as you put it, we simply don’t
have the time.  Or, do you have it down to a science?”

“That’s not what I meant,” I say dryly. 
Well, not really. 
“Black
turtleneck sleeveless crop top with black skirt and leopard stilettos. 
You?”

“You’ll see.”

“Ok, that’s cryptic.”  Grabbing a towel, I step out of the shower
and Sally is standing at the sink completely nude.  “Uh, Sally? 
Where are your clothes?”  I look into her eyes fighting to keep them on
her face and completely expressionless. 
Don’t encourage her. 
She’ll never put any clothes on.

“What you’ve never seen…wait….I know you have.”  She snickers with a
wicked grin.  “Jesus, Amber.  We’re both girls.  Now, are you
done?” she asks, motioning to the shower.

Trying to look anywhere but at her, I mumble, “uh, yeah.”  Once she
steps in, I quip, grabbing the hair dryer on the way out so I can at least do
my hair.  “I’ll give
you
some privacy.”

Sally’s tinkling laughter follows me out the door.  Before I reach
my bed, my phone pings:

We still on for tomorrow?

I reply:

Sure.  I’ve been wondering if you were still alive.

My phone pings before I can turn the hairdryer on:

Calving season is almost here.  It’s been interesting to
say the least.

I text him back:

What’s that?  Never mind, tell me tomorrow.

Ping!

So, did my plan work?   Did you feel me all week?

Laughing I text him:

Yes!  ;)

I was worried you had forgotten about me.

I wait for a few minutes but nothing.  Disappointed, I turn the hair
dryer on and blow my hair into a cute Mohawk.  I can’t help it, I have to
look.  I pick up my phone and nothing.  Shit!

Ping!

Darlin’, there ain’t no way I could forget about our
night. 

Shit, I’ve been thinkin’ about you all week. 

Had wood every day since. 

Haven’t been hard this long since the seventh grade.

I smile and reply:

Good to know.  ;)  What time tomorrow?

A reply comes faster this time:

I’ll see you at 4.  Have a good night.

As Sally comes out of the bathroom, I look up.  Yup, she’s still
naked.  Sighing, I text him back:

You, too.

“Do you plan to get dressed, or are you going like that?”  My eyes
narrow…but I’m careful to focus above her head so I don’t look down. 
Don’t
look down….that will only encourage her…don’t look down.  She’ll never put
clothes on if she sees me look.  Don’t look down.

“I have to do my hair and you have the hairdryer,” she says, coming
closer, gesturing for me to hand it to her.  From on top of the bed, it is
increasingly difficult to avert my eyes as she stops to stand in front of
me.  The heat radiates off my face and I roll my eyes.  “Damn it,
Sally, quit fucking around.”

“Why, Amber, I don’t know what you mean.”  She giggles.  Walking
back into the bathroom, she calls, “Lovely shade of red, hon.”

“Ain’t gonna happen, Westin.”  I smile.  She is kinda
funny.  “Guess who sent me a text?”

“Did he?” she shouts.  “That’s great.”

I need to do my makeup, but half of it’s in the bathroom.  I guess
I’ll wait.  No need to encourage her.  “Hey Sally, you want another
shot?”  I call.

“Yeah, do you need me to make it?” Her muffled voice carries through the
room.

“No, I got this.” 

I pour two more shots of Vodka and attempt to replicate Sally’s mastery. 
Carrying the glasses, I nudge the door open.  Sally has finished her hair
and makeup.  Her eyes pool with tears.  “What’s wrong?”  I ask.

“Just thinking about Lily.  I don’t like hurting anyone.” 
Turning to me, she says, “I was always up front with her.  I’m not going
to settle down with anyone.  I like playing the field.  I wish she
would move on.”

I stroke her arm.  “Listen, we’ll think of something.  I got
mad skills when it comes to manipulative bitches.  Lily ain’t got nothing
on my mom.  She’s a second rate!  Strictly bush-league, baby.” 
Pulling her forward, I look into her teary eyes saying, “Twelve years of
boarding school. 
Twelve
.  I’ve seen every trick a girl can
throw at you.  We’ll figure out either how to derail her crazy train or come
up with a brilliant counter move.  Trust me.  I got this.”  I
smile.  “Now, splash some cold water on your face and have a shot.  I
need to get in here and finish getting ready, too.”

“Ok.”  She sniffs.  Taking the shot and throwing it back, she
grimaces.  “Uh, Amber, what exactly did you put in this?  It tastes
like pure lemon.  My mouth is puckering.  Ugh.”  Her face
distorts, like she is tasting something truly disgusting.

Taking my shot, I lean over the sink, spitting it out.  “Fuck,” I
rub my tongue furiously to scrape the offending taste off.  It doesn’t
work.  “Shit, I made it like yours…I thought.  Geez, that tastes like
shit.”  I take my towel and furiously rub my tongue in a hopeless attempt
to get the rancid taste out of my mouth.

“Here, give me your glass.  You do your makeup and I’ll make us some
decent shots.  I have to get some ice for my eyes or they’ll be puffy all
night.”  She smiles, the sadness still brushing her lips.

Closing the door behind her, she walks out into the room, still naked as
a jaybird.  I laugh, “Girl, put some damn clothes on!”

“You know you like lookin’ at my ass, darlin’,” she calls.

Walking out to slip my turtleneck on, I venture over to the table to
watch again, how she makes those damn delectable shots.  Stopping for a
minute, I ask, “What if you told her you were sleeping with me?”

“I don’t know.  She can be really nasty.  I don’t know if you
want Lily coming for you.” 

“She doesn’t scare me.”  I snicker.  “She’s a lightweight
compared to some of the girls I’ve gone up against. “

“Are you sure?”  Sally says pensively. 

“Yeah, I would love to fuck with her.”  I shrug with a little
wink.  “I have Tommy.  It’s not like I’m trying to date anyone on
campus so why would I care about anything she says.  Go for it.”

“Hmmm, that might work.  If she knows I have someone else, not just
a one night stand, she might move on.” 

“You should text her tonight.  I bet knowing I’m proud to go out
with you, in public, would drive her insane.  Say you’re out at the
Flame.  She knows that it’s a gay club, right? 

“Hey, nothing to lose, right?”  She shrugs, a tad too hopeless for
my taste.

There’s a soft knock and Sally starts for the door.  “Clothes,
Westin.  Clothes would be nice.”

“Prude,” she says, changing direction to grab her outfit out of the
closet and slipping into the bathroom.

Opening the door, I walk away saying, “Come on in, Karen.”  Raising
my voice in the direction of the bathroom, I yell, “I’m running behind because
someone
keeps hogging the bathroom!”  Winking at Karen, I walk to the
kitchenette.  “I’d make you a drink but I can still taste the rancid swill
I concocted on my tongue.  We need to wait for Sally.  Do you want
something else?” I ask, finally looking up.  “Wow…uh, wow.”  I shake
my head. 

Karen’s hair is done up all 1940s style like Emma Stone from that
Gangster movie.  Her fire red dress is a classic A-line and stops only a
smidge lower than her ass.  Her bright red heels are modest, not like the
backbreakers most girls wear, but tall enough to make her legs look long,
really long. 
Wow, she has great legs. I don’t think I have ever seen
her legs, come to think of it.
  

“Thanks.” Her shy smile lights her face, even though she studies the
floor.

“Can you see without your glasses?”

“Yeah, I can’t drive, but I can see fairly well.”

“Lucky for you, we’re taking a cab,” I say.  “You know if you go to
a club like that, you’re definitely going to get hit on.”  I smirk, eyeing
her outfit.

“You think?” she asks with a shy smile, looking at her shoes, “it’ll be
good practice for when we go to Mulligan’s.  You guys promised me we could
go to a bar down the street and I want to go there.  The soccer team is
supposed to head there after the game.”  Her face is firm, and you can see
a light blush surfacing her cheeks.

“Ah, I see.  So who are we scoping tonight?”  

“Jerrod Mason.”  She smiles shyly.

“I don’t think I know him.”  I furrow my brow trying to recall if
he’s in any of my classes.

“He’s in our history class.  Sits in the back.  Tall, brown hair,
hazel eyes, easy smile.”

“You just described every guy in our class,” I say dryly.

“He was with Bobby the other day, in the quad?  He was one of the
ones who had no clue what you were saying.  The tall one with the great
legs?”

“Oh, him!”  I laugh. 

The bathroom door opens and Sally is finally ready.

Karen stutters, “S-sexy…very sexy.”  Her green eyes round with
astonishment as Sally walks in. 

Sally turns with a smooth flourish like a runway model on the
catwalk.  “You like?”

Sally owns it.  That girl has mad confidence. 
Damn
. 
Her legs glide across the floor with a light swish as her pants seem to float
with her.  Her white tuxedo shirt opens to right below her boobs, showing
cleavage but keeping the rest covered.  A bow tie is clipped to her shirt
collar, a la Frank Sinatra style.   Her eyes are bare except a dark
line on the lid.  Her dark red lips pop against her pale face. 

“Finally!”  Now, can I get in there so I can get ready? 
Please?” I plead.