I need to get it under control.
Chapter Three
Cynthia
I yank my bike helmet off my head as soon as I’m in my apartment. I can’t believe I just flirted with my landlord, while wearing my baby blue helmet. I toss the helmet on my couch and run my fingers through my hair.
Did I look ridiculous? Or was he flirting back?
I’m no expert, but it felt like he was flirting with me as well.
I press my hands over my cheeks and feel my burning skin. He could probably see how hard I was blushing. So mortifying.
I’ve had a crush on Nate ever since I moved in, but I’ve always managed to hide it. At least, I think I’ve been hiding it pretty well. As soon as he mentioned coming over to give me a band-aid, I just couldn’t hold back from smiling.
Because let’s be honest, I would love it if he came over to clean my scraped knee and plaster a band-aid on it.
I shiver just thinking about his large hands on me.
Then I yank my jacket off and head towards my kitchen. It’s never going to happen. He probably thinks of me as a little kid. He was just being nice and since he’s single, maybe he just flirts with all women.
That must be it. He’s just a bachelor, tossing out little compliments and dazzling smiles to whoever he crosses paths with.
I sigh as the image of his face cracking into a grin flashes through my mind. It’s that thick beard. I wanted to reach up and run my fingers through it.
I put some water on to boil so I can make pasta. I need to get back on my schedule. Dinner, then studying for the anatomy exam tomorrow. I can’t let a guy – especially a guy who is so not in my league – knock me off course. Usually I’m good at focusing, but as spring arrives and the end of the year approaches, I find myself getting distracted.
With Nate, it’s more than distraction. It’s the desire. Yes, I’m a virgin, but I still have certain urges and needs. And seeing Nate brings all those urges to the forefront.
I frown as I stare at the pot of water as it heats up. I’ve been living like a nun for too long. I try to remember the last date I went on. It’s depressing how hard it is to recall. College girls should be able to remember recent dates. It wasn’t recent though. It was sometime early in junior year. I grabbed pizza with a guy from my Yoga elective. He talked about sports teams the whole time, and I was bored out of my mind. I didn’t even consider a second date.
Even more depressing is trying to recall the last time I kissed someone. It was sophomore year. Becca managed to convince me to go to a party on campus. She told me I was working too hard, and I needed to live a little. She promised me it was so fun to find someone at a party and just release all inhibitions. I was younger then, and I suppose I was less cynical, because I dressed up nice and went with her.
A guy started chatting me up, and despite my reservations, I tried to partake in the conversation over the blaring music. Becca gave me a thumbs up and vanished to find her own conquest. An hour later, I was alone with the guy in his dorm room. He didn’t even bother with a preamble, he just went in for the kiss. I guess that’s the norm for college hook-ups.
He was a messy kisser, and after about ten seconds, I was over it. I pulled away, stammered some excuse and left his room.
I explained to Becca that casual hook-ups just were not my scene. She respected that, and while she continued to try and get me to date, she never dragged me to any more parties.
Before that fiasco, I did have a very brief fling my freshman spring. It was a senior who was also pre-med. I admired his brains, and I was totally enamoured with the fact that he was already in medical school. In retrospect, it’s obvious that I was conflating my obsession with going to med school with my attraction to a guy.
We set up coffee dates to talk about the pre-med life, but they always segued into something that felt like dates. I remember when we kissed outside my freshman year dorm for the first time. He was so tall and dashing, and my stomach was in knots. It was my first real kiss. Before that, there had just been a few pecks on the cheek in middle school.
I was so nervous I couldn’t breathe, but I also remember being wild with excitement.
For weeks, I was floating on cloud 9. He would come over to study with me, and then we would make out on my bed.
Then, he wanted to move too fast. I told him I wanted to take it slow. He wasn’t into that.
I was humiliated. Becca told me it wasn’t my fault. She said it was the classic result of dating an older guy. The only plus side was that he was graduating soon.
After that, I was way more cautious when it came to men. I never wanted to let myself fall too hard and get hurt again. Plus I learned a hard lesson about guys who aren’t cool with taking it slow. I assume most college boys are like that, so why would I even bother?
I’m not a freshman anymore though. I feel more comfortable in my body and confident in who I am. In fact, I think I might be ready. I wouldn’t need to take things slow. But I also don’t want to have sex with just anyone. I’m
