Page 52 of Courting Clemson

“Well, nothing like that happened. He kissed me good night. No tongue even. He was a total gentleman. But Grace, seriously…” I trailed off, trying to think of what I wanted to say and, more importantly, how I wanted to say it. I felt very guarded with everyone. This topic was sensitive to begin with, and while I needed her support, I didn’t want a lecture.

My friend was quiet, maybe sensing I was trying to organize my thoughts.

Finally, I continued. “There is a major difference,” I started but stopped there too.

“What do you mean?”

“This guy isn’t like any other guy I’ve dated before. He’s confident but not cocky. He’s sure of himself and what he wants but not bossy or shitty about it. It’s this fine line between all the things I’ve always thought I wanted in a guy and the things that would send me running for the hills.”

Hopefully, she understood what I was trying to say. I wasn’t even sure I understood. I couldn’t come up with the right words for how I was feeling.

“Did you discuss the financial aspect of your…arrangement?”

“Briefly. I told him about losing my scholarship and that I hoped it would only be for one semester. He was totally fine with paying my tuition, and I mentioned living expenses but not an exact dollar amount.”

Grace was quiet for a moment, and then said, “It might be a good idea to have a rough number in mind. You know, in case he asks how much you would need. Then you’ll be prepared with something that will cover you but not be out of line.”

“One step ahead of you. I started a list last night so I’d have a real idea of what I need to survive,” I said proudly. “Plus, I started thinking of a bunch of other expenses I’d probably have now that I have to look presentable all the time. Regular hair and nails, clothing other than my massive collection of sweats. Stuff like that.”

“Oh, shit, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Grace muttered. “Well, it sounds like it was awesome all around. When do you see him again?”

“We didn’t set up anything concrete,” I told her, and before I could mention the text from him this morning, she groaned.

“Oh, no. That can’t be good.”

“I think it’s fine, honestly. And early this morning he texted me a sweet little thank you. He’s a really nice guy.”

“I’m sure he seems like he is.”

I stopped milling around the kitchen. “Huh?”

“Think about it, Clemson,” Grace said in a tone than raised my defenses. “There has to be something majorly wrong with him. Otherwise, he’d already be taken. You know the good ones don’t last long in the wild.”

“I don’t know. I didn’t pick up any warning signs.”

Was I being naïve?

Feeling more defensive now, I explained, “He said he wants companionship on his terms. He’s not interested in all the games and maintenance of a traditional relationship. He doesn’t have the time for it, and that is usually where things go bad in any relationship he’s had in the past.”

“How many sugar babies has he had before you?” she asked. “Did he say?”

“No, and I didn’t ask.” Her question made me curious, though. “Maybe I should’ve asked him that. Not that it would matter. I think knowing that would just add to my stress—if I’m measuring up to the others or not.” Just that admission made me feel tense.

“Okay, so let’s say this is all great and moves forward. When does he give you the money? There’s a deadline to have tuition paid, and I’m pretty sure it’s coming up this week.”

“Well, first thing tomorrow, I’m going to the registration office to file an extension. I don’t want to put pressure on him and ruin any chance I have. If I’m going to do this, I think I would like it to be with him. We really hit it off.”

Grace and I spent another fifteen minutes on the phone, talking about everything under the sun. She told me about the sailboat her parents recently purchased, and she had me in stitches recounting how inexperienced they were at handling the thing. By the time we got off the phone, my stomach actually hurt from laughing so hard.

She said she might head back to San Diego on Wednesday and would keep me posted so I’d know when to expect her back in the house. I asked her if she’d spoken to Avery, and she hadn’t either. We were collectively worried about our roommate but figured she had to work out her own shit. We both had enough on our own plates at the moment to get involved in her problems too.

Chapter Twelve

Clemson

Things didn’t go as smoothly at the registration office as I’d hoped. After leaving the cramped little room and bursting out into the fresh morning air, I had to wonder what I’d expected. My luck had been shitty lately, and I should’ve expected a problem rather than a solution.

Apparently, the deadline to file an extension had passed. They weren’t keen on making an exception for me, either. So that left me with three days to post just over twenty grand to my student account, or I was out for the semester. I wouldn’t even be able to drop into classes on the chance they had openings on their rosters if my financial account wasn’t in good standing.

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