Chapter 5: August 1985

We spend the weekend studying and finish by watching a free movie in the Student Union. Neither of us mentions Wednesday's incident.

"Do you not have any friends?" I ask as we stroll through the quad after the movie.

He chuckles. "What? I have friends, just not here. Most of the smart kids attend out-of-state colleges, and most of the creative ones didn't want to go to college. A couple on both sides are working because their families can't afford for them to go. Anyway, we'll keep in touch, but we all scattered, which is why I’m rooming with a jock who basically only comes home long enough to sleep with a cheerleader."

"Joan and I applied together,” I say. “The Art Institute offered me a scholarship, but I turned it down to come here with her."

He raises his eyebrows. "Regretting that decision?"

I sigh. "Not entirely. I mean, I’ve enjoyed hanging with you, and I like my classes, but I’m still missing my friend."

"I can understand that… Well, I'm not winning a significant other at an auction. You can always hang with me."

"Yeah, thanks."

"Hey, I'm serious. We’ve had fun the last few days, right? Popcorn, and studying, and drawing. I'm an easy-going guy. That's pretty much all I need."

There’s a knot in my stomach. "Pretty much?" I ask hesitantly.

He grins. "Well, also ice cream."

I gently hit my forehead, immediately relieved. "Of course. How could I forget ice cream?"

"And there's you."

I shake my head, sway, and knock my shoulder against his. I bite my lip, harder than usual. "Sorry."

He cocks his head and studies my face. "I'm fine if you are."

I nod and wrap my fingers around the inside of his elbow. "I really have enjoyed the last few days. Like watching the guy in the library repeatedly hit his head against his open calculus book… or watching you effortlessly draw the practice exercises.” I grin at him.

"I wouldn't say ‘effortlessly’."

I laugh. "Oh, come on, Colin. Your talent far exceeds those assignments."

He smiles sheepishly. "Thanks."

"As does your humility."

He laughs. "Okay."

***

During the last twenty minutes of class, Professor Truman allows us to draw anything we want. Absorbed in our sketches, we don’t speak until we’re in the hall.

"It's Monday, girl. Want some ice cream?"

"I can't today. Joan actually called and made plans with me to hang out tonight!"

He smiles. "Cool. I'm going to the library for a while. I guess I'll see you Wednesday?"

I break into a sprint. "Yeah, see you Wednesday, Colin!"

***

Less than two hours later, the towering windows cast soft light across the library’s shelves, and I’m comforted by the subdued students and smell of old books. I climb the carpeted, spiral staircase to the fourth floor, browse through the Art and Literature section, and stroll to a peninsula of sunlight surrounding Colin.

The library’s most isolated table.

His table.

Our table.

I attempt to smile. "Are you saving this seat for anyone?"

He looks up and chortles. "No. Feel free to join me."

I pull out the metal chair to his right and sit, dropping my heavy bag on the floor before removing my Introduction to Business textbook, a spiral-bound notebook, and a wooden pencil.

Colin glances at his watch. "Why aren't you still with Joan?"

"She ditched me,” I say casually.

My hands shield my face, but I feel him watching me, sensing my deflation.

"Hey, I want to show you something." His voice is soothing, inviting.

I lower my hands as he flips his drawing pad back a page, revealing a shaded sketch of me. My cheek leans against my left fist, my left elbow rests on a table, and my right hand draws on a large pad.

He hands it to me, and I drop my jaw in disbelief, studying the sketch. "Colin, you drew this during class?"

"What do you think?"

"My braids, the bend in my fingers… Colin, the details on this… I… I really don't know what to say."

"Well, I cheated a little by using a model."

"Still." I hand the pad back to him. "I knew you were talented, but to do that in class… It’s incredible."

He smiles. "I'm glad you approve."

I hold my smile and blink away small tears.

He frowns. "What’s wrong?"

"I guess I'm just honored."

He chuckles. "Well, I didn't mean to make you cry."

I laugh and wipe my eyes. "No. Thanks for that. That cheered me up."

"Good.” He looks into my eyes, his laughter replaced with softness. “Joan shouldn’t have ditched you. You deserve better than that, Ra’Shelle."

I shrug. "I don't want to think about it. Let's just study, okay?"

"Sure."

***

A young woman taps her manicured fingernails on our table. "The library is closing in fifteen minutes."

"Thanks," Colin replies, closing his book.

I return everything to my backpack, look at my watch, and stretch. "I lost track of time."

"You said that you wanted to study." He watches my movements. "Do you dance?"

I laugh a little as I pick up my bag. "Only when nobody's watching."

We walk through the stacks, down the staircase, and into the night.

I groan. "The sun set four hours ago. How is it still this warm?"

"It's August."

I roll my eyes at him. "Thank you for that."

"Anytime."

We walk through the empty quad to our dorms. "You want to stay with me instead of listening to your roommate snore?"

He smiles. "I don't have a change of clothes with me."

"I have a t-shirt you can wear. I used to use it as a nightshirt."

He rubs his chin. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

"Yeah. Hell, I guess you could even sleep in Joan's bed if you want. She’s certainly not using it."

He cocks his head. “Do you want to talk about this?”

"We've known each other since first grade,” I almost yell, “and she’s so infatuated with Preston that she can’t even make time to talk to me. It sucks!"

"I get it, Ra'Shelle. I do."

I sigh. "I’ll survive."

He looks at the dorm. "What about your RA?"

"I guarantee you’ve never met someone more apathetic about their job."

He follows me as I unlock the door, and I quietly scoff as we pass two couples making out between floors in the stairwell. Seeing no one in the hallway, I motion for him to follow me. I hastily unlock my door and quietly shut it behind us.

"See," I sigh with relief, "easy."

He chuckles. "Sure. You didn't almost have a panic attack or anything."

"You shush," I say playfully as I set my backpack by my desk and gesture around the organized room. "Just toss your stuff anywhere." I open my chest of drawers and move clothes around until I find my “Artists Create” t-shirt and toss it behind me. "You can wear this."

He sets his bag by Joan's bed and holds the triple XL shirt in front of him. "Why do you own this?"

"I participated in an art event in the park three years ago; apparently they under-ordered smaller sizes. I told you it would fit you."

I open another drawer. "Somewhere in here, I also have really stretchy shorts from when I briefly tried to be a basketball player. You'd think with my height that I'd be dunking every rebound, but no. Shortly thereafter, I stopped pursuing the life of an athlete."

I toss him the shorts and pick up a t-shirt and pajama pants. "I'm going to change in the bathroom. I'll give you some privacy."

"Sure thing."

I change quickly while listening to a young woman sing “Like a Virgin” off-key in the shower. I walk back to the room and tap on the door before opening it.

He smiles as I lock the door. "All your clothes fit."

"Well, then I guess you always have a set of pajamas here."

He grins. "You look good."

I raise my eyebrows. "Colin, It's a t-shirt and pants."

He shrugs. "Still."

I slip out of my shoes and turn off the light. In the darkness, I suddenly realize exactly what I’ve done. I take a deep breath before lying down. "Care to join?"

"Is that what you want?" he asks, still standing. "I don’t mind sleeping in Joan’s bed."

"No," I answer, admiring his fit physique in the dim light, "come here."

He slips under the sheets. "When do you wake up in the morning?" he whispers. The enveloping darkness softens both of us, making us quiet and gentle.

“My alarm will go off at seven. We can sneak you out then." I clear my throat. "Can I ask you something really personal that you absolutely aren’t required to answer?"

He interlocks his fingers behind his head. "Sure."

"You said that you were in therapy for a really long time, right?"

"Yes."

"So… your 'shitty childhood' happened a long time ago?"

"Ages eight to twelve. So yeah, a while ago now."

"Why did it, I mean, how did you, you know, stop it?"

He takes a deep breath and looks at me. "I told my dad, and he believed me. My mom left shortly after I was born. I don't even own a picture of her. My father remarried, and that woman…" he trails off and returns his gaze to the ceiling. "After I told my dad, he divorced her immediately, and we never heard from her again. He made sure that I could access all the help I needed. It was a rough few years, but I worked through it."

He sighs. "I don’t think he ever forgave himself. He's dated a few women but never seriously. But we’re cool. We talk once or twice a week, and he supports me pursuing an art degree."

I start to touch his chest, but stop myself. "I'm sorry about that."

He rolls onto his side to face me. "I don't enjoy talking about it, but it doesn't bother me much anymore. I think of it as a closed chapter." He smiles slightly. "But thanks for your concern."

"When were you able to," I swallow, "be touched?"

"It took almost four years,” he says. “Patrice, my first real girlfriend, taught me to be gentle and patient with myself. I realized she wouldn’t hurt me, not intentionally anyway, and I relaxed around her. That trust sort of transferred to other parts of my life."

"What happened to her?"

He shrugs. "Things just didn't work out. Teenage love, you know? We still talk every few months; there’s no animosity, but it wasn’t meant to be."

I shake my head. "Four years…"

There’s a flash in his eyes as he realizes my thought process. "Everyone heals at different speeds, Ra'Shelle."

"Yeah," I whisper.

"Do you…" He hesitates, obviously making a deliberate decision. "Do you want to tell me when your 'shitty childhood' ended?"

I bite the inside of my bottom lip. "Fourteen months ago."

"Fourteen… It's only… Fourteen months?"

I nod.

"No wonder you're so… I mean–"

"Fragile?"

"Well, I was going to say it nicer than that."

"I moved in with a teacher last June, and she agreed to let me stay with her until I started college." I shrug and gesture around the room.

"I… I don't know what to say."

I bite my lip. "Listen, I don't know what this is."

"Aspiring artists who slip into dorm rooms?"

I half-smile. "Sure." My smile falls. "But I don't want this to hold you up or whatever."

He raises his eyebrows. "'Hold me up'?"

I swallow. "Colin, come on. You're attractive. You're the best artist I know. You're kind. And it's college."

"I'm not sure that random facts and compliments helped clarify your statement," he says.

"If you want to make friends, or meet people, or whatever, you should. And clearly, I'm still radioactive, so if you want to date, you should date, is my point."

He sighs. "Oh, Ra'Shelle."

"What?"

"You're not keeping me from anything. I like hanging with you. I like watching you draw. I like having someone to study with. I feel lucky to have found you. I assumed I'd be a hermit for a semester or two, especially since the school paired me with a football player." He smiles. "And touching you is… It's electrifying."

This comment completely catches me off guard, and I inhale sharply.

"It is,” he continues. “It's new, and exciting, and there's something about you that I can't really identify or describe. Holding your fingers or kissing your lips–it shoots a spark into my brain.

"But this–" he gestures to the space between us, "talking, and sharing, and making each other smile… It creates beautiful moments that just make life better."

He rolls his eyes at himself. "Okay, that last part morphed into poetry. But I'm an artist; what do you expect?"

I grin. "Exactly that."

"All I’m saying is that I love spending time with you. Let's just experience it. Don't panic, Ra'Shelle. Just let it be what it is."

I place my fingertips against his palm and he closes his fingers over mine. After staring at him for a moment, I remove my hand and lean forward. I find his lips and feel the rush that he described so well.

I touch his shoulder, gently push him, and move closer until my face is directly above his.

You own the power, the control. You can do this, I tell myself.

Still tenderly kissing him, I move his hands to my sides, just above my stomach. Despite initiating it, the feeling surprises me, and I pause the kiss to catch my breath.

He opens his eyes and looks into mine. "Ra’Shelle?"

I stop his question with another kiss. "Colin?"

"Yes?"

"Will you–" I swallow, losing my nerve.

He pulls back and scans my face. "Ask for what you want."

I bite my lip.

"No judgment," he whispers.

I inhale. "Will you hold me?"

He moves his hands to my back and gently wraps them around me.

I take a deep, uneven breath and tremble.

"Ra’Shelle?"

I kiss him again, endeavoring to force myself into the moment. I pull back. "Say something." My tone is urgent, my brain already buzzing in the background.

He searches my face again. "You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen."

I shake my head.

He nods. "Okay… You're Ra'Shelle, and I'm Colin and you're here with me. Just me."

My breathing begins to even, but he doesn’t move his arms.

"It's just you and me. No one else exists right now. You're here with me, and I’m here with you."

I begin kissing him again, slowly letting my body drop, until my chest is against his. My breathing quickens, and my muscles tense.

"Just you and me," he says softly.

"Tighter," I say between uneven breaths.

He tightens the hug until his fingertips barely touch my stomach.

I inhale deeply. "I–" the words catch in my throat.

He releases me and kisses my forehead. He stretches out his right arm, letting the left fall onto his chest. "C’mere."

I roll slightly, resting my head on his shoulder, my breath still uneven, as the unwelcome sensations creep into my brain, threatening to ruin this moment, this night.

He turns to me. "Ra'Shelle, look at me."

I look up, meeting his gaze.

"It's just Colin. It's just me. We're just going to lie here and eventually fall asleep. There's no one else here. It's just me. Just you and me."

My breathing evens as I focus on his words. "Thanks."

"Can I touch you?"

I look into his eyes and nod.

He gently strokes my shoulder. "Just you and me."

I sigh softly. "I'm going to sleep. Are you–" I take another deep breath.

"If you’ll let me, I'm staying right here."

I nestle further into his shoulder and place my hand against his chest. He interlocks his fingers with mine and strokes my hand with his thumb. "Good night, Ra'Shelle. Sleep well."