Mask of Celibacy: A Multimedia Novella

23 ¦ Dances and Daydreams

The chortling of a noisy coffeemaker woke me just as the sun peeked over the horizon. Stumbling out of bed and into the shower, I relished how the steamy water conjured tingles along my skin similar to Eric's touch.

"Remind me again why I'm up at oh-dark-thirty?" I groaned as I wrapped a towel around myself and dried my hair.

"Just one little French class with Eric," Helen said with a yawn. "Then you can spend the morning together until your grandparents pick you up."

"Don't remind me of them," I said. "Not before coffee at least."

Nerves twisted in my belly like a bundle of worms, and the sudden rush of adrenaline almost negated my need for caffeine. I'd nearly forgotten that my reprieve would soon end. In a few hours, I'd have to go back to my old life. My strict life. Without Eric, Helen, or the other guys.

With a heavy sigh, I put on the same drab outfit I'd worn on Saturday.

"Oh, no, you don't," Helen growled as she took out the cute knee-length black velvet dress. "I let you get away with a nineteenth-century outfit yesterday, but not today."

"I'm not sure when I can return it to you..."

"Keep it," she said with a wink. "It'll remind you of us."

"I couldn't possibly--!"

"Accept my gift like a sensible friend, Jess."

"Thank you so much," I said, taking the hanger. The bodice fit me like a glove, hugging my curves while demurely falling to the knee. "I love it, but Mom will kill me!"

"Well, tell her she's wrong," Helen huffed. "Damn, even I'm jealous."

"Are you sure this is appropriate for class?" I asked, twirling in front of the mirror.

Helen handed me the same black platform sandals I wore for movie night. "You should see what some people wear. Especially for eight a.m. classes. Some go in PJs."

"Are you for real?"

"Oh, yeah. You'll see," she said. "If anything you'll be overdressed. You're just not used to stretch. Trust me."

Helen helped me choose my makeup and styled my hair, which hung in gentle, dark waves down my back. "Like I said yesterday, Eric will be panting on the inside."

"Thanks, Helen."

She gave me a hug. "Don't mention it. I've got a dozen more dresses where that came from." She winked. "When you visit again, I'll set you up with another outfit."

"But my family would never--"

She held up a hand to stop me. "Don't worry. We're a clever bunch. We'll make it work."

Helen headed towards Smith Hall for class while I knocked on Eric's door. I exhaled a deep breath and shook out my hands to dispel my nervous energy.

When Eric greeted me, I was glad I'd dressed up after all. Today he was wearing a smart collared shirt with expensive khaki pants. His hair was slightly tousled, which added to his charm. Upon seeing me, his eyes widened and his mouth opened a fraction in surprise.

"Jess," he breathed.

"Morning," I said, trying to sound as chipper as possible without caffeine.

"You look lovely," Eric said, running a hand through his hair. "I mean, as always. I mean..."

"Ready for French class?" I asked to break the tension.

"Sorry, yes." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I'm not a morning person, I'm afraid. Would you like to grab some coffee first?"