Reckless

How the hell did he manage to turn everything I said into an opportunity to hit on me harder? He was a genius. Maybe if I led him toward Marjorie, she could take over for me. But she was on the far side of the room, talking to a couple of students. Weren’t there any other available females for him to honey badger?

Hunter chatted me up for the remainder of the break. Luckily, it lasted only five minutes. It seemed like five-hundred and five. Sigh.

Who would’ve thought a hot guy hitting on you could be so tiresome?

The class resumed sculpting when Hunter returned to his pose in the dais.

At one point, I glanced beside me at Romeo’s sculpture and noticed his had a huge erect dick.

I clapped my clay-covered hand over my mouth before I guffawed.

“What are you doing!” I whispered.

He looked confused. “What do you mean?” he asked innocently

“His thing!” I whisper-squealed. “It’s not that big!”

“You sure?” Romeo asked doubtfully. He lifted his monocle to his eye, squinched it into place, and glanced repeatedly between Hunter and his sculpture. “Looks right to me,” he said seriously, then lowered his monocle, allowing it to pendulum from its string.

“Yours is like twenty sizes too big. And his isn’t at attention.”

Confused, he said, “It was earlier, wasn’t it?”

“No!”

Romeo shrugged sheepishly. “Silly me. I must have been day-dreaming.” He pressed the clay penis down with two fingers, causing it to break off and topple to the floor. “Oops!” He bent over and picked it up, holding it in front of me. “You ever hear that song ‘Detachable Penis’ by the band King Missile?”

“What?! There’s no such song!”

“There totally is. Look it up.”

“Having fun?” Professor Bittinger asked, fists on hips. The toe of one of her shoes machine-gunned on the cement with restrained irritation.

“Definitely,” Romeo smiled at the professor. “Have you ever heard that song—”

I clapped my hand over Romeo’s mouth.

Through my fingers, he said, “Defafaffle Fefis?”

Marjorie frowned at me. “Is your friend all right?”

“No, I need to get him to a doctor or something. He’s sick.”

“Perhaps you should escort him to Student Health. That way, neither of you will waste anymore class time with your obtrusive Tom Foolery. While you’re there,” she said to me directly, “perhaps you should see a doctor as well.” She stalked off on her firecracker heels.

“Shut up!” I hissed at Romeo. “You’re going to get us kicked out.”

“Do you think Marjorie has a detachable vagina?” he whispered. “I think she does, and she lost it at a party, like, ten years ago. She hasn’t been laid since then. That’s why she’s so irritable.”

SAMANTHA

After sculpting class, Romeo walked me to my job at the campus art museum and we said our goodbyes. He had section for acting class again.

When I was behind the counter, I pulled out my notes from History and started reviewing them.

Not long after, Hunter walked through the doors of the museum.

I tried to duck behind the counter, but he’d already spotted me.

“There you are,” he smiled, striding over to the counter. “I thought I saw you walk in here.”

“Hey,” I said morosely. Maybe he’d pick up on my zombie tone and take the hint?

Nope.

“You looked like you were having fun in class with your buddy today,” he smiled. “I saw Bittinger giving both of you guys dirty looks. What was that all about?”

“I think she hates me,” I groused.

“Why? What’s to hate?”

I smirked and rolled my eyes. “I’ve been asking myself that since class started.” Wait. I just realized Hunter was tricking me into a conversation. I wasn’t going to say anything else. I officially zipped my lips.

Hunter grinned. “She’s probably jealous, like all the other women on campus. Speaking of which, I went out with your friend Tiffany.”

Okay, that was worthy of de-zipping. “You what?!”

“Yeah. I took her out for sushi at Japengo. It’s a fancy sushi place on the other side of the freeway. A workout buddy of mine is a waiter there. He always cuts me deals.”

“Okay, wait. Back up. You went out with Tiffany? Like, on a date?”

“Yeah,” he smiled.

I was in shock. I hadn’t actually seen or heard of such a thing. All I knew was that Tiffany was always trying to steal Christos from me. “Well, how’d it go?” I was dying to know.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” he said suggestively.

Bastard! But I wouldn’t let on. The last thing I wanted Hunter thinking was that he had anything I wanted, even if it was merely gossip. I stared at him, waiting him out.

I scrutinized his face. I couldn’t decide if he had really gone out with Tiffany, or if he was lying to make conversation. Sure, I could picture Tiffany going out with a guy like Hunter, but I needed proof.

Then, inspiration struck. “Well, if things went well, she probably wouldn’t be happy seeing you here with me.” That was an understatement. If Tiffany had gone out with Hunter, and the date had gone well, she’d tear me apart if she caught Hunter with me.

Hunter chuckled cagily. “Why, does Tiffany hang out at the art museum a lot?”

“No.”

“Then we don’t have to worry about her, do we? It’s just the two of us.”

Like I suspected, Hunter was a player or a liar, which basically amounted to the same thing. “Hunter, I’d love to chat, but I have homework to do.” I motioned toward my books.

“I can come back later.”

“Please, no,” I pleaded.

He chuckled and waved as he walked out. “Until next time, beautiful.”

I didn’t wave back. The last thing I needed in my life was more Hunter, no matter how hot he was.

Where was Christos when I needed him?

Sigh.

If Hunter were to take one look at my hot, tattooed boyfriend and see how totally in love we were with each other, I believed Hunter would finally give up on me and go away.

I truly knew my love for Christos was that strong.

But I needed Christos in my arms for our enchantment to work and shoo Hunter off.

At the rate things had been going, that might not happen for days or even weeks.

Sigh.

SAMANTHA

The drive north from campus took awhile in traffic. I knew the Pacific Ocean was somewhere to my left, but it was blacked out by the glare of oncoming headlights.

My relationship with Christos was starting to feel as inconsistent as my view of the ocean. We never had enough time for each other, just brief moments that lacked in both quantity and quality.

Between my classes, my homework, my museum job, my never-ending job search, and Christos’ crazy round-the-clock work schedule, I feared we were slipping apart.

I started weeping at the wheel of my VW.

Yes, I had met the perfect man and we had fallen in love, all in the span of a few short months. But in the span of a few short weeks, I felt like our relationship was crumbling to dust. I knew our love was strong, but if we never saw each other, how could it grow? Love wasn’t a static thing. It required effort, commitment, and constant attention. It needed tending and care for it to grow, otherwise it was bound to wither and die.

I knew, because I felt Christos slowly slipping away from me.

Worse, despite our increasingly tenuous connection, my feelings for Christos had grown immensely, and I