Seduced In College (Campus Dorm Room School student One Night Stand Erotica Girl Romance Sex Stories series) (9 page)

“Jack, do you have an iPhone charger?”

“Sure,” says Jack.  He reaches down to the armrest
compartment in between us and opens it.  “Feel free to use it.”

I see a tiny cable connected to a USB port.  “Thanks
so much,” I say.  I pull out my iPhone and connect it to the cable.

Soon, my iPhone screen turns on.  Then I hear a few
beeps.  Text messages.  I look at the time.  It’s close to four
in the morning. 
Who is so crazy to text me in this time of the night?

I slide my finger through the screen and see the message
list.  Many are ads.  But there is one from someone I’m really
familiar with. Anthony, my cheating boyfriend.

I become really angry.  I don’t want to hear from
him.  But what does this liar have to say?  I peek at the message.

Where are you, Emilie?  We're worried about you.

Oh, yeah.  Good, this is
really
good. 
Thank you so much, Mr. Anthony, The Liar!  You really worry about
me?  And who is this
we
?  You and that fat ass?  Did you
send this message from
my
bed?

“Fuck!” I mumbled.

“What?” Jack’s eyes rounded.  I guess he never
thought I would swear just like that.  But he still sounds cool.

“Nothing,” I turn off my iPhone and close my eyes.

I open my eyes.  The sky is still dark.  But I
can see the morning light revealing on the east side.   Jack is
gassing up.  “Holy shit!  This is freezing!”  He rushes back and
starts the engine.

“Jack, can I pay for the gas?” I ask.

“Oh, no, I’m going to New York anyway,” he says, focusing
his eyes on the road.  “It’s still early.  You can sleep a bit
longer.”

“I’m fine now.”  I pull out my makeup mirror and
check carefully.  The black circles around my eyes are almost gone. 
I look almost like a normal girl.  Good!  I add a bit lipstick and
put the mirror back to the cosmetic bag.  “Did you sleep at all last
night?” I ask.

“Nope.  But I’m okay,” Jack says in a flat
voice.  After a while, he yawns.  “Thanks for reminding me,” he
smirks.

I look at the GPS.  We are getting close to New
York.  The morning traffic is building up on the highway.

What’s my class schedule today?
  Shoot! 
I don’t have any. 
Come on, Emilie.  You are no longer a college
girl.  You are nobody.  You are a lonely girl on this lonely planet.
That’s. It.

My dear father always says kids in the Morgan family are
strong.  They never cry.  But I really want to cry now.  I try
to hold back my tears.  It’s not because I want to be strong, but because
I don’t want to ruin my makeup and get panda eyes again.  I lean back and
close my eyes.  I try to think about things that are happy and
pleasant.  But I can’t think of any.  My body is shaking.

“You okay?”  Jack turns and asks.  “Holy—” he
passes me a box of tissue.

I try to say thanks.  But no words come out from my
mouth.  I wipe my tears with the tissue.   I know my mascara is
being washed away.  I know my face is a mess again. 

Welcome to New York!
  A big sign
appears.  And it says:
Population 8.337 Million.

How many of the 8.337 million people are as lonely and
heartbroken? 
I ask myself.  Then, I feel so silly. 
Come
on, Emilie, your sadness is so unimportant in this huge metropolitan city. 
It’s a single water molecule in the entire Atlantic Ocean, or a nano-size dust
drifting in the Universe.  It’s less than nothing.

Last night, I decided to leave everything behind and start
a new life.  And here is the first day of my new life. 

Is my whole life just a big misfortune?

9:35.

Jack becomes really frustrated.  The traffic is not
moving at all.  The moment we exited the highway, the GPS said we needed
about twenty minutes to get to the Greyhound station.  Now, after one hour
and fifteen minutes, it says we need another hour and forty minutes. 
“What’s this?” Jack growls. “We can walk there faster than driving in this
shit!”

He turns on the radio.  A sweet lady's voice is
reporting the traffic jam and some accident.  He slams the button and
turns off the radio right away.

“Maybe we should take a break and eat first?” I suggest.

“Smart,” Jack smiles.  “McDonalds?”  He asks.

“Sure,” I say.

Soon, we sit in the McDonalds.  Jack looks
tired.  But he still eats a lot; and fast, too.  Twenty minutes
later, we have finished our meal.

“Want one more coffee?” he asks.

“Sure,” I stand up.  We walk over to get a
refill.  We sit down again, sipping our coffee and looking at the traffic
outside.

“Have you been in New York before?” Jack asks.

“A few times.  Vacation stuff with my parents.” 
Those were the times I went on luxury vacations with my dear parents.  We
ate everything but McDonalds because my mother said it was “totally, extremely
unhealthy”.  She sounded like we were talking about drugs or
something.   “How about you, Jack?”

“Oh, yeah.  Vacation stuff.”

“With parents, too?” I ask. 

“No,” he smiles. “With friends.”

This is really hard to believe.  Can you imagine a
bunch of guys go all the way to New York for vacations?  Come on. 
This is silly. 

“You mean… girlfriends?” I ask.  My heart races
quickly.  I. Am. Jealous!  Should I?  Or am I entitled? 
Definitely not.  But I can’t help it.

“No girlfriends, ” Jack gives me a weird,
come-on-this-is-none-of-your-business look. 

My face flushes.  I know I’m stepping on his
toes.  Oh, well, not only stepping, but stomping really hard like a twelve
thousand pound African elephant.  I look at him.  My face is all
red.  Are. You. Lying. To. Me?

Jack is smart.  He knows what’s in my mind.  He
breaks the eye contact and looks down.  That tells me He. Is. Lying!

“Okay, I lied,” Jack raises his eyes.  Now he
confesses.  “We came to New York a few times a year.”

I can almost see him and
several
his female
“friends” having fun in New York.  Suddenly, I feel like my liar
boyfriend, Anthony, is much better than this Jack because he played with only
one girl, not several. 

“But it was all business,” Jack adds.

I shake my head.  What kind of “business”? 

“Come on, Emilie,” Jack is frustrated.  “This is a
man’s game, okay?  We ship things and make money.  It’s that’s
simple.”

Now he is giving me a totally different picture.  A
bunch of big muscle men ship things and make piles and piles of money. 
What kind of “things” can give him the kind of money he has? 

“Drugs?”  Oops.  I didn’t realize I actually
said that.  I look around.  Yes, we are in a McDonalds in the New
York City.  Too bad if I discovered his “business secret” by
accident.  He can’t hurt me a tiny bit.

“Huh…” Jack laughs really loud.  People turn to look
at him.  “Come on, kid,” finally he stops his laughter.  “That’s the
old trick.  Now we have the Internet.”

This Jack is now a total mystery to me.  He is making
huge amount of money with the Internet by “shipping things”.  And his
“business” is more profitable than smuggling drugs.  Are these “things”
blood diamonds, ivory, human body parts, or something worse?

“Come on,” Jack urges, “let’s finish the coffee and get
moving.”

I look outside.  The traffic is now much
smoother.  I gobble down my coffee and stand up.  “Let’s go,” I say,
wiping my mouth.

It takes us only fifteen minutes to drive to the Greyhound
station.  Jack pulls the car to the parking lot.  He turns off the
engine and turns to me.

Well, it’s the time to say goodbye.  I feel a lump in
my throat.  I have mixed feelings with Jack.  I don’t know how good
or how bad he is.  I don’t know if he really killed someone.  But I
do feel like I want to spend more time with him.  I know this is the last
time we are going to see each other.  Good or bad, I will never see him
again once I step out of this car.  Isn't this really the way the life
goes?  I look at him, trying to swallow down my lump so I can say
something nice.

Jack is swallowing really hard, too.  Finally, he puts
up a smile and says softly, “Good luck and take care, kid.”

“Thanks for everything, Jack,” I say, grabbing my duffle
bag.  I get out of the car and walk all the way into the station.  I
don’t want him to see the wetness in my eyes.

The moment I step into the building, I hear the car engine
start.  He is leaving.  That’s. It.  Life.

The line for the ticket is long.  Big buses come and
go.  But I can’t hear anything. 
Did I leave too quickly?
 
I ask myself.  Now I realize what I did.  I walked away from the man
who saved my life and helped me when I needed the help the most.  No hug,
no phone number exchange, nothing. 
Emilie, see what you did?

Sorry, Jack.

“Next, please.”  I hear the girl say.  I look
around.  “It’s your turn, miss,” the man behind me smiles.

“One way to Miami, please,” I say.

“One hundred and seventy three dollars,” says the
girl. 

“What?” I can’t believe my ears.  “Isn’t that one
hundred and nineteen dollars?”

“That’s when you order from the Internet.”

“Can I order from the Internet then?”

“Sure you can.  But the bus is leaving in five
minutes.  They are finishing boarding.”

What am I going to do now?  I don’t have an Internet
access service on my iPhone.  I have only the basic phone service. 
It was Jack who showed me the special Internet rate on
his
iPhone. 
But he left already.

“Next,” the girl looks at the man behind me.

“Oh, please, I still need my ticket,” I try to smile.

“One hundred and seventy three dollars,” the girl repeats.

I pull out all the cash and hand them to the girl. 
She begins to count.  “One hundred and thirty nine,” she stops and looks
at me.

I dig into my purse and find a few coins.

The girl gives back my cash and says, “Next.”  Her
voice is ice-cold.

I’m not happy but I don’t have time to get angry.  I
pull out my Visa and hand it over.  I need to get this ticket before the
bus leaves. 

The girl reaches for the card.  Her nails are all
paint purple, my favorite color.

Suddenly, a big hand grabs the card and pulls it away from
my hand.

I freeze.  Robbery!  I almost black out. 
This is my last chance to go to Miami.  Who is this stupid thief anyway? 
Can’t he see I’m all broken?  I turn my head and see the thief.

It’s him.  Jack.  “Come on, let’s go,” he drags
me out of the line.

“What are you doing?” I struggle.

A security guard strolls close, “What’s up?”  He
stares at Jack like he could be on America’s Most Wanted List.

“My girlfriend,” Jack grins.

The security guard turns to me, “You okay?”

“My girlfriend,” I grin.

The security guard locks his eyebrows.

“Er, um, my boyfriend.  Yes, Jack,” I grin again.

The security guard unlocks his eyebrows and strolls away.

Jack points at the corner and moves his mouth.  I
turn and look. 
Camera
.  That’s what he is trying to tell me.

I follow him to walk outside.  “Jack?” I ask, the
moment we are out of the Greyhound property.

“Look, this is a rip off,” Jack hands back my Visa. 
“Let me give you a ride to Miami, okay?”

“You said New York, Jack.”

“I changed my mind.”

I feel so happy.  “Jack, are you doing this just for
me?”  My cheeks turn red.

“Oh, heck no,” Jack says right away.  “I’m going there
anyway.”

I’m so disappointed.  I wish he had lied,
“Oh,
yeah, I'm only doing this for you, kid.”
  But he didn’t.

“Oh, well, kind of, okay?” he says.  “I’m going to
Orlando.  So, I am going to give you a quick, extra ride from Orlando to
Miami.”

Why Orlando?  Is he going to the Disney World for his
“business”?  Well, that’s his business secret.  I shouldn’t be that
nosy.

Soon, we hit the highway. 

“Jack, why did you come back to get me?”

“Me coming back?”  Jack chuckles.  “I never
left.”

“But I heard the engine starting.”

“Come on, there were hundreds of cars around.”

“But your 4x4 sounds different.”

“Is that a Lamborghini?”

Silly, Emilie. 
Jack is right.  There are
so many 4x4s in New York. 

Unfortunately, the
fact
was miles away from romance. 
But he did give me this ride.  I’m so thankful.