U of M Series: The Chemistry Poet

Chapter 8: Piper

I rush out of the chemistry hall feeling dumb. So dumb. Did I really let myself think Sawyer sitting next to me for two hours in a class meant something? Yes. Yes I did. Idiot.

I enter the student union sigh as I sink in to a plush couch. The Zeta couch. Yes, I realize it sounds like a high school clique lunch table thing, but humans love to sit in the same place regularly. This happens to be where my sisters and I like to hang out when not in class. Right between the Sigma's couch and the stairs the soccer players sit on.

Unlike high school cliques of jocks, preps, or stoners, sororities and fraternities actually like and invite others to join them. Recruitment is what keeps us running. So we welcome others. It's how I got roped into joining. I never saw myself as the sorority girl type, but I just hadn't found the right sorority. Every sorority and frat has a unique personality. Amanda, my big sister, recruited me in a bio lab even though I was a freshman and she was a senior, she'd never taken her science credit. She convinced me to rush. I'd been so impressed with how smart, pretty, and strong she was. She was who I wanted to be in college. Then I met other Zeta's and during recruitment I met Carmen and we pledged together. The rest is history. So yes, I can talk about boys, fashion, chemistry, politics, parties, social events, community service all in the same conversation with my sisters. It's the beauty of the Greek system, finding a place you belong.

Only ten am, the couch is empty. Most students try not to have a class before noon. I spot Carmen hanging with a few Sigmas, and by the way her shirt is three sizes too big I assume she's been hanging with the one she gave eyes to at Royal Fox. He grabs her hand. So that would be a yes.

I stare off in space. My thoughts wander to Sawyer. It seemed like he was finding ways to touch me. Then he stretched and kept his arm around me on the chair. After a few minutes, I felt him playing with my hair. I wanted to close my eyes and enjoy the feel. I love my hair being played with. When I was little, my sister and I would take turns playing with each other's hair, braiding it, brushing it, etc. There is something so comfortable about it.

He pressed his leg into mine. Both of us wearing shorts, his warmth spread over my skin. His freshly showered smell encompassed us. I was about to toss all worries aside about him being a manwhore and me being just another notch on his belt if only so I could feel more of his bare skin on me. 

And I thought he was on the same page when he said, "Hey Piper, I was wondering if you'd like to..." 

Like to what? Boink like rabbits? Okay, I'm game. Have your babies? Yes, please. But then the blonde with tan legs as tall as sky scrapers interrupted. I'd seen her before. I'd seen her with him and too much PDA in this very student union.

"It's for the best," I say to myself aloud.

Digging around my bag, I spy the composition book. The poetry, sex story, romantic composition book. I survey the area around me. Everyone knows I'm a chemistry major, they will think I'm reading over notes and not really a super-secret-sexy journal.

Today's reading a snippet of a scene:

I run my hands down her bare body. Exploring, teasing, pleasuring, claiming. She arches her back in approval. "Tonight, I will make you forget everything outside of this bedroom. I'll make you forget everything but my name—that you'll be screaming at the top of your lungs." I pinch her nipples and she gasps. I lean in close to her ear, my breath tickles her and her skins breaks out with goosebumps. I smile at what I do to her, what I will do to her. "But I promise you, you'll never forget what I'm going to do to you tonight."

"Hey girl."

I close the notebook. "What? Hmm? Nothing." My heart is pounding and my insides are clenching. What was he going to do to her? I fan myself.

Carmen wears a confused expression. She quirks her head. "I told you that you need to hang out with other people during the day besides chem nerds, they're making you weirder than you already are." She plops down next to me.

I slide the notebook back in my bag. "Gee, thanks." I run my eyes over her and give her a smirk. "Nice shirt. Long night?"

She gives a dramatic sigh and a goofy smile spreads her lips. "I'm in love."

"You said that last month when you dated the Delta."

"But this time it's for real."

"Also what you also said last time."

She scoffs. "You always have to spoil my good mood."

"Sorry Carmen. I just know you and your usual M.O. You'll get bored with him in two weeks and you'll leave him heart broken. Then he'll come to our doorstep at one am when you're out with someone else so he cries on my shoulder instead. All. Night. Long."

Giving me an eyeroll she replies, "That was one time."

"One time too many."

She crosses her legs. "Anyways, what are you up to?"

Getting hot and bothered reading. "Studying," I reply.

"Always studying. You're already smart enough."

"Some of us actually need to study for our degree." Carmen is a Spanish major and she grew up speaking Spanish. Not like I grew up speaking chemistry.

"Are you going to the Sigma party on Saturday? The first party of the year. It's going to be huge."

"I work until ten, so I don't know."

"Well you know these parties don't get going until after eleven anyways. Besides, potential new members will be there. We have to start dirty rushing before recruitment."

"Says the recruitment chairwoman who is supposed to follow all the rules." 

She shrugs. 

"I'll think about it."

"Don't be boring. You know the first party is the most important. Find out what happened over summer—who broke up, who hooked up, who got fat." 

I smile at her. 

"Besides..." she lowers her voice. "When was the last time you got laid? There's got to be cob webs down there. Find a hot frat guy or muscular jock you'll never talk to again and awkwardly avoid in the student union for the next semester."

"Umm. One, there are no cobwebs. Two, sounds so fun hiding the rest of my college career."

In reality, it had been awhile. In truth, I didn't have much experience aside from high school prom night and a frat guy in sophomore year I dated for a couple months who freaked when he found out about my OCD. To be fair, it had been bad then. I hadn't been on medication or therapy and it could be life consuming. But still, it hurt. People don't understand I can't just stop or not think about things. He didn't understand why I couldn't do things until I did something else, or how I had to keep checking things over and over again. It's a lot for a light college romance to handle. I get it. I'm a freak.

Still, my mind flutters to Sawyer. He could probably clear cobwebs quite well. Too well. Ugh. Anger, jealousy, I don't know what, swells in me.

Sawyer is off the table, but perhaps the mystery writer... I need to find out who in chemistry wrote it. Now he—hopefully a he—seems romantic and knows how to please a woman. Swoon.

Wednesday. I'll do some detective work Wednesday in lab.