Page 14 of Beyond our Forever

“What do you have planned?”

“It’s a surprise,” he announced, without elaborating.

“What time do you want me to arrive on Saturday?”

“I’ll pick you up at about six on Friday, gorgeous girl,” he replied.

“From Friday to Sunday? The whole weekend?” I asked in amazement. “You really want me there that long?”

“The only question you should be asking is whether I’m going to let you go back.”

At that time I wished I had a close friend to ask her what to do, my experience with men was limited to a complete disaster that had ended just over a year ago. I had never felt this irresistible pull before, and now my world was filled with the boy I dreamed of every night. Some crazy cravings ran through me, to fill the space that separated us, to fill that anxiety, that hunger, the desire that kept getting stronger and stronger.

More intense.

With greater magnitude.

Like a tremor after a great earthquake, that’s how it felt.

I was already counting the hours until the weekend.

Because every time his lips touched mine, I wanted to merge with them. Because every time his fingers searched under my clothes, my skin seared like sunburn.

Yes, because he was becoming my sun, the center of my universe.

“If you want, I can make something for dinner on Friday,” I suggested. After all, he had to study and I knew how hard it was for him to cover all his expenses.

“Ilythia, I’m not inviting you over to feed me,” he replied, sounding offended. “I have other plans for you.”

“Okay, Boss,” I replied reluctantly, although I had to admit his other plans sounded exciting.

“All I want is for you to be ready when I come to pick you up.”

Asshole, he was making fun of all the times he had to wait for me to finish getting ready, because like any woman, I could never find the right thing to wear or the perfect pair of shoes. Not that I had much to choose from, but hey, sometimes that was the big problem.

“Am I going to see you before Friday?”

It was only Tuesday… the days were going to be like eons.

“I’ll call you tomorrow night,” was all he said, so I knew the week was going to be endless.

“Hang up that phone!” my brother yelled outside my door. “There are other people in this house who need to communicate with the rest of the world.”

“You heard that?” I grumbled.

“No worries, baby. We’ll talk tomorrow,” he promised, before wishing me good night and saying goodbye amid Warren’s bellowing.

Immediately I started to mentally make a list, deciding I urgently needed to hit the mall.

???

History had always been my favorite class, but that Wednesday morning the teacher’s words were unintelligible noises, an annoying wasp-like hum. I wasn’t taking anything in, because I couldn’t get Bruce and his promises out of my mind.

Professor Baxter announced, “The project on the role of women in twentieth-century American politics is due in two weeks. Remember, it’s worth twenty percent of your final grade. Now I’m going to call out your respective partners.”

One by one, he called our names, until it was my turn.

“Erickson, you’re working with Tacker.” I turned to look around the room for my partner, and spied a good-looking long-haired blond boy waving to me.

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