Chapter 4: August 21, 1985

Once again, I enter an empty classroom and sit in the fifth chair of the third row. Once again, I arrange my materials and skim my textbook as chattering students fill the seats.

Once again, Colin sits next to me, and we exchange kind smiles.

Professor Truman closes the door and casually tosses his briefcase on the table. He grins as he surveys the room. "Better."

He leans against the table and crosses his ankles. The pacing energy of Monday is gone, and a laid-back, down-to-earth mellowness has replaced it. "I didn’t lie on Monday, but I may have exaggerated a bit. This course does require significant effort. Drawing does take practice and hard work. However, you won’t complete a quiz every class–mostly because I don't want to burden my TA.

"Two types of students take this class: those who are genuinely interested in drawing and those who want an easy “A”. My colleagues think my TA should teach this course, that I’m wasting my time, but I disagree. Does anyone want to guess why?"

To my shock, Colin raises his hand.

Professor Truman smiles and points at him. "Sure. You."

"You like teaching students who want to learn?"

Professor Truman hits the table with his fingers, and I jerk. "Exactly! As long as students want to learn, I want to teach. I make a hundred copies of my syllabus every semester, and I know I’m wasting trees. Monday, eighty-seven students were packed into this room. Today, I see... twenty-eight. I'll probably lose a couple of you after Friday too. So, I'll teach twenty-five students, but I’ll enjoy my job because those twenty-five will want to be here."

He walks to the blackboard and picks up a piece of chalk. "Now, let's journey back to your elementary years and talk about shapes."

***

When we walk into the hallway, Colin snickers. "Ra'Shelle, I thought you were going to faint."

I furrow my brow. "When?"

"When I raised my hand. The blood drained from your face. What's up with that?"

"I don't like attention," I say flatly.

"The attention wasn't on you, girl. It was on me." He leans against the door as we walk outside. "Were you scared that he was going to call on you instead?"

I nod as I slip out beside him. "I mean, no, you just caught me off guard. I didn't realize you were such a teacher's pet."

He smiles unevenly. "The head says one thing, the voice another."

"What?"

"You nodded. Then you said something that you don't really believe." His voice softens. "You were really that scared that you were going to have to talk in class?"

"I don't like attention," I repeat.

He takes a deep breath. "I pay attention."

I bite the inside of my lip. "I've noticed."

"So?"

I raise my eyebrows. "So… what?"

"Does it bother you?"

His questions are so sincere that I can only be honest. "Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes."

A crisp silence encircles us.

"Can I keep paying attention?" he asks softly.

I shrug. "If you want."

He stops walking, placing me a few steps ahead of him.

I turn and walk back. "Why'd you stop?"

His smooth voice deepens. "’If I want’?"

I tilt my head. "Yeah."

He takes a deep breath and exhales loudly.

Again, he’s unreadable. "What?"

He gestures, and I follow him to a warped, wooden picnic table a few feet away. We sit on the creaking wood, our backpacks beside us.

"You don't understand?" he asks gently, staring at me.

I shrug nervously. "I guess not."

"You said that you don't like attention but acknowledged that I pay attention to you. I asked you if I could keep paying attention, clearly implying that I wanted to continue to spend time with you and learn about you. Right?"

I nod.

He’s moving his hands as if what he’s saying is so important that it requires his entire body to convey it. "I was asking permission, Ra'Shelle. Don't you understand? It's like someone asking 'Can I come into your home?' That person will invade your space and judge the things you own. They'll gain insight into who you are and how you live. And you have to decide if you want to give that person that much access."

I shake my head. "Colin, what are you talking about?"

"Of course I want to come in. I want to pay attention, or I wouldn't have asked. Is it okay with you? What do you want, Ra'Shelle?"

It comes to me all at once. "Oh” is all I can say as I hug my drawing pad and look away.

He turns his entire body toward me. "I’m going to throw out some assumptions. You often respond ‘if you want’ because you've never controlled your own life. You're always second chair. It's always someone else's turn. No one asks you what you want, and your fear won’t allow you to make demands, so you bend to other people's desires."

I glare at him, unable to decide if I’m more furious or afraid. "You’re calling me a coward?"

He leans back. "What? No! I'm saying that you're here now." He leans forward again, but he doesn’t intrude on my space. "You're attending college and not living with… whomever you were living with. No one except what's-her-name, Joan, knows you here." He half-smiles. "Well, except for the guy you nearly deafened, I guess."

He waves his hand. "Doesn't matter. Don't you see? You can reinvent yourself. You can finally ask for what you want. You’re not required to make space for me or anybody else. You don't need to be afraid of attention or success. You can speak up for what you want. That's what I'm saying."

Again, his genuineness surprises me. "What does it matter to you? Why do you care?"

"I honestly don't know."

I raise my eyebrows. "That's your answer?"

He shrugs. "I guess it is." He stares into my eyes. "I can see something in you that I can’t really describe, something under the surface, and I think I like it."

That compliment unnerves me, and I roll my eyes. "Really?"

"Yes."

I take a deep breath, stand, and wait while he does the same. Slowly, we begin walking toward the quad.

"Yes," I say finally, hoping I sound steadier than I feel.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I want your attention."

He smiles. "Good."

I clear my throat. "When does your roommate return from football practice?"

He rolls his eyes. "Oh, it lasts all afternoon. Four hours of practice and coaching followed by a protein-heavy dinner at the caf' with the team."

"So, he's gone right now."

"Yeah, and will be for a while."

"So hypothetically, instead of risking concussion via Frisbee in the quad, we could study in your quiet room."

"Sure."

I ramble nervously while we stroll to his dorm. "I haven't seen Joan since Monday afternoon. I don’t even know if she’s going to class.”

He opens the door for me and follows me closely, aware that we’re in the all-male dorm. "I'm on the first floor,” he says, “eighth door on the left."

Guiding me through the nearly deserted dorm, he instinctively, protectively places his fingertips against my backpack.

He unlocks the door and steps aside to let me enter.

I look around as he shuts the door. "Which side is yours?" I ask.

"I'll let you guess."

"Well, enormous posters of L.T. and Joe Cool cover the right side, but the left side only has a single abstract painting and a charcoal drawing of a couple dancing."

"Yes…"

"So… the right side?" I grin.

"Funny. You're funny." He drops his bag on the floor by the desk.

"You create either of these pieces?" I ask, stepping closer.

"My best friend gave me the painting on my eighteenth birthday. I drew the couple one day while I was sketching at the park. I liked it enough to bring it with me."

"Colin, it's gorgeous."

He tosses his textbook on the bed. "Thanks."

He sits on the bed and opens his textbook as I drop my bag on the floor. "Chapters Three and Four. Professor Truman wastes no time moving through the text."

I sit next to him, my feet barely touching the floor.

He looks up from the book. "Aren't you going to read?"

Ignoring my tense muscles, I sigh and place my head on his right shoulder. "No."

"Oh," he says as he sets his book on the desk. He leans his head against mine and places his right hand on his jeans, flips it palm up, and waits.

Slowly, I move my hand on top of his, and he gently folds his fingers over my fingertips.

I focus on him, on this moment.

After several minutes, I lift my head, as does he, and our eyes meet.

My pulse quickens, and butterflies move into my stomach.

I raise my head until my soft lips meet his, and we share a slow, hesitant kiss.

I pull away and stare into his eyes, expecting him to say something, but he doesn’t.

I kiss him again, this time committing to the moment.

With my left hand still steadily in his grasp, I lightly push on his shoulder with my right hand, and he allows it. Slowly, our bodies fall onto the bed, and I tilt until our lips meet again. I place my head next to his shoulder and debate what to do next.

"Ra'Shelle," he whispers, "do you want me to touch you?"

Taken aback by his directness, I inhale sharply. "No."

I wait for his subtle nod, then kiss him again.

With enveloping sweet kisses and no restraints, I relax and lower my guard.

And then it happens.

A light. A touch. A grunt. A feeling of pure fear.

I quickly pull away and shake my head, trying–and failing–to make it stop.

"Nope," I say as I sit up and begin moving toward the edge of the bed. "Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope."

He sits up immediately. "Ra'Shelle?"

"Nope." I throw my backpack over my shoulder and tuck the pad under my arm. "What the hell was I thinking? Stupid, stupid, stupid."

I open the door, but freeze, suddenly remembering where I am.

Standing close behind me, he whispers, "Let me walk you back to your dorm.”

I nod and let him walk in front of me until we’re outside. He falls in step with me. "Ra'Shelle, you don't have to leave. And we don't have to do anything. We could just study or go to the quad."

I shake my head, furious with myself. "I knew better. Stupid, stupid."

He cuts in front of me and walks backwards, his hands up and away from me. "You're not stupid. It wasn't stupid."

I continue to shake my head. "I made a mistake. I can't."

He nods. "You don't have to. I wasn't expecting–I'm not expecting anything."

I mumble to myself as he steps in line with me, my pace quickening.

When we arrive at my dorm, he steps in front of me again. "I don't want to leave you like this. Invite me in or stay here with me. Just talk to me."

Finally, I look into his eyes. "What?" I ask, as if I was away.

He steps toward me. "Talk to me."

I move my head, evaluating my surroundings. "There's no one here."

He shakes his head slowly. "There are other students, but, no, whomever you're thinking of, they're not here."

I take a deep breath, returning to the moment. "Colin."

He takes another step toward me. "Yes?"

I swallow and collect myself. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You just can't do it out here."

I half-smile, masking. "What are you talking about?"

His voice is soft, almost pleading. "Invite me in, Ra'Shelle. Please."

I gesture toward the door. "Fine. Come in." I walk in front of him, dissimulating my panic. "But I live on the third floor and take the stairs, so I hope you can keep up."

He doesn’t respond as he follows me through the lobby, up the stairs, and down the hallway. I unlock my door and drop my pad and backpack on the desk. Joan has left another note: Don't wait up. ;)

He closes the door and follows me to the desk. "Ra'Shelle."

I turn as I toss the note into the trash basket. "Look, I know I had a moment back there, but it passed, and I'm safely in my room. I'm fine, Colin."

He shakes his head again. "What you're doing right now? I did it too. And in just a minute, the denial will break, and you’ll start replaying those moments."

I inhale deeply. "You've known me for fifty hours. You don't need to be here for this."

He steps closer. "What just happened, Ra'Shelle, it required trust and security, and moments like that come along so rarely that we have to cherish them, protect them. And the next part will ruin it, taint it, if you let it. You know it will.

“Also, I want to see you again, and I can’t do that if you’re embarrassed or ashamed to be around me." He gestures toward my bed. "Please sit."

I hesitate, but he speaks softly. "Ra'Shelle, you know what happens next. Please."

I inhale and sit on the edge of my bed as he sits on the metal desk chair and faces me, our knees nearly touching.

Looking into my eyes, he inhales slowly, then extends his hands, palms up, hovering just above our knees.

"Whenever you're ready."

I sigh, overwhelmed by his kindness. "Colin."

"Don’t let your pride force you to do this alone."

A lump sticks in my throat.

"Let me help you," he whispers.

I inhale deeply and hesitantly place my fingers on his. Immediately, I burst into tears.

I remove my hands and cover my face, resting my elbows on my knees. "I'm so sorry," I whisper between sobs.

"Ra'Shelle, look at me." His soft, but serious voice slices through my sobs. I remove my hands and meet his eyes, my face twisted in pain and embarrassment.

"You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing."

I cover my face again and lean forward, my forehead falling onto his knees.

"Can I touch you?"

I hesitate, then nod against his jeans.

He rests his hands against my shoulder blades, and I know he feels the trembling in my lungs as I begin to hyperventilate.

"Deep breaths, Ra'Shelle. Deep breaths."

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.

After several minutes, I lean back, and wipe my eyes.

He searches my face, his hands resting on his knees. "Better?"

I sniffle. "Yeah."

"Do you want me to stay?"

"If you want–"

"Ra'Shelle, do you want me to stay?"

I bite my lip. “Yes.”

He pushes the chair back under the desk and sits next to me on the bed. "Does that happen a lot?"

“Less than it did.”

"But intimacy triggers it?"

“I guess so.”

“I had the same problem.”

I sniffle and look at him. "Yeah?"

He nods slowly. "Full-on panic attacks."

"What did you do?"

"I went to therapy. A lot. Soooooooo much therapy." He chuckles. "I mean, I kept that dude in business."

I smile slightly. "And that worked?"

"Mostly." He extends his hand, and I take it. "Listen to me. After you’re a vulnerable mess in front of another person, instinct will tell you to apologize. You’ll worry that you’ve disappointed or angered them, and to assuage that guilt, you’ll apologize, just like you did today.”

I look away.

He leans down to follow my eyes. "You don't need to do that with me. Ever. I know whatever happened wasn’t your fault, just like it wasn’t mine. Just allow me to help you, to take care of you. Don't worry about the rest of it, okay?"

I take a shaky breath. “Okay.”

"One of two things happens now."

I swallow. "What?"

He leans toward me. "You try again. You want to prove to yourself or to me that you can control the trauma’s effects, and you try again. Alternatively, the adrenaline wears off, and you take a nap… You should take the second option, Ra'Shelle."

I kick off my shoes, and Colin does the same. I stand to turn down the soft sheet, and we slide under it. I move his arm and rest my head on his shoulder before I lean up and kiss him softly.

"Ra'Shelle–"

I press my finger against his lips and lay back down. "Thank you."

He smiles and very gently squeezes my shoulder. "You're welcome."