College Fiend [A$AP Rocky]

Twenty-six

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I said she tried to kill me. Jaamani’s sisters were the ones that came and saved me,” I told Quincy. He stood, shaking his head and walking away from me before I could finish. “There were two of them, and they looked just like her. They’re triplets, I’m telling you!”

“Okay, Sabine, but what does that have to do with me?” He snapped. I stayed silent in astonishment, staring with a half-open mouth until finally Quincy sighed, came over to me, and sat down beside me.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant was that you’re saying it in an accusing way, as if you think I knew about this before you did. I didn’t, Sabine, I promise. But thank you for telling me, because now you and I both have to be on the look-out. Okay?”

I didn’t answer; there was nothing to say. Telling him I didn’t believe him wouldn’t do any good, for that’d just make him either persist to prove that he was innocent or get upset and argue with me for being distrustful. It wasn’t my fault that I didn’t trust Quincy—as a matter of fact, it was my fault that I trusted him even a little bit, enough to kiss him and hold him and cuddle with him under the sheets. We got to that point later that day, to the cuddling and kissing and holding. I don’t know how we got there, but we did, and it felt amazing.

Quincy’s skin seemed to be getting softer by the day, his against mine feeling like silk against silk. I didn’t want to get up from the bed because I had to, for two reasons: one, when he and I were in the bedroom alone for too long, I had a feeling that Maine began to suspect us of something, and two, there was something I needed to research in the living room downstairs. How I was going to do it was beyond me, though, because Maine sat on the couch in a position that faced the computer screen, and what I wanted to research was too private for him to see.

“Hey, M,” I said when I reached the middle of the room. “What’re you reading?”

“Something about psychology. It’s not that interesting, trust me.” He chuckled. “No books that professors assign are interesting.”

“Professors? You go to college?”

“Yeah, online. The professors send the students the titles of the book that they want them to get, and the student has to purchase it. This wasn’t too expensive.” Maine explained.

“That’s cool. If you need the computer just let me know; I won’t be long, anyway.” I sat down at the chair and went straight to a question forum that Sheena had introduced me to a few years ago. Of course, now, the forum was much more advanced with a better layout and more members. Looking back at Maine to check whether he was looking or not, I created the discussion “How to Choose Between Two Spouses?”

Immediately, responses poured in. Most of them were alike, things such as “whichever one makes your heart flutter as soon as you think about them,” or “whichever one you feel a strong connection with when you look them in the eye.” Others were saying that you should pick the one you chose first, and a woman with two choices has too many. They were arguing with each other eventually instead of helping me.

But finally, a late-comer posted:

Excuse me for interjecting so late in the argument, but I’ve been in your situation before, Sabine123. I have to say, it took about three months before I could get them out of my mind, but finally I had an epiphany. It’s very simple and may seem over-the-top, but it’s undoubtedly effective. Here’s what you do: make love to both of them. Separately, of course. And when you’re done, choose which one made you feel better, made you feel more like you were floating. Choose that man. The other will just have to find another love, unfortunately. Good luck!