Page 57 of When You Left Me Speechless

Poppy: Maybe, but I’m conflicted.

Logan: About what?

Poppy: I could use some stress relief, but I also really need to study. Could we make it quick?

Logan: Could we make what quick?

Poppy: Logan…

Logan: Why don’t I come over and help you with both? I can be there in fifteen.

I run around my room, trying to clean it up before he gets here. I don’t have much to do, but I make my bed, stuff my laundry basket into my closet, and shut the door. I go into the bathroom and brush my teeth. I quickly try to fix my hair that’s tied into a big, messy knot on the top of my head.

I hear a knock on the door and rush out to find Lacey heading to answer it.

“I’ll get it,” I practically shout, cutting her off and making it to the door before she does.

“Geez, calm down. Are you expecting someone?”

“It’s Logan. Please don’t make it weird.”

“Oh, a booty call.” She turns around and plops down on the couch.

“I said don’t make it weird.”

A smile crosses her face before she picks up her book and opens it. “Just calling it what it is.”

LOGAN

The door swingsopen and reveals Poppy standing there wearing my hoodie and shorts that are barely visible under it. I know better than to say something about her outfit, soinstead I bend down and kiss her on the forehead. I step inside and notice her roommate is sitting on the couch.

“Oh, hi, Logan,” Lacey says. I offer her a wave and Poppy grabs my hand and pulls me towards her room.

As soon as we cross the threshold, I hear Lacey yell something about us using protection. Poppy lets out one of her annoyed little huffs and shuts the door.

“So what are we doing first?” I ask.

“I usually like to start with foreplay,” she says, taking a step towards me.

“No, I meant, like, do you want to study before or after I make you come?” I let the corner of my mouth curve up slightly. Her cheeks turn a rosy shade of pink.

“Oh, um, no, you don’t have to help me study.” She spins a strand of hair around her finger. “I need a quick distraction to help me focus.”

“I don’t mind helping. I have a master’s degree, remember? I know what it is like. Let me help you.”

She nods hesitantly.

The walls are covered with pictures of her friends and family. Textbooks are scattered around the room in neat piles. Everything is bright and colorful. There is a big calendar on the wall above her desk. I walk over to it. Every day has a different subject written on it, and each is color-coded.

“What’s this?” I ask, pointing at the calendar.

“Oh, that’s my study plan. I study one subject a day, and the colors coordinate with how I’m going to study. Pink is flashcards. Green is reading chapters from the book. Blue is reviewing notes. Purple is a practice test. I have one on my phone, too.”

“You have two calendars? What is the one on your phone for?”

“Oh, no, I have two of the same calendar. That one on the wall and then an exact copy on my phone, except the one on my phone has reminders set.”

“So, what are you scheduled to study tonight, chatterbox?” I trail my finger across the calendar until I find today’s date. The wordvoiceis written in pink.

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