It’s time for class to start, and today I sit down right next to Diana. I feel like doing something out of the ordinary. A lot of things out of the ordinary. And furthering the friendship I’ve somehow stricken up with Diana is the least crazy thing of them all.
“Hey there, EJ,” she says, elbowing me playfully. “It’s okay that I call you EJ, right?”
I shrug.
I’ve never been called that before, but why not start now? I suppose this is a time in my life where I’m experiencing a lot of firsts. At least I hope I’m going to experience them. Last night I wrote all about how I want things with Dr. Monroe to go, and for once I didn’t even tear up the diary entry.
I was afraid that if I ripped it into a thousand tiny pieces like I usually do—obsessively, as if erasing any trace of it that my mother could possibly find— that I’d be extinguishing any chance for my fantasy to actually become reality. I decided to keep it with me and protect it, hoping that means it might come true.
Dr. Calvert arrives and begins talking about basic instincts.
“He can tell me about basic instincts any time,” Diana says, in a whisper. “I don’t know why you don’t find him attractive. I’m personally offended by the fact that you don’t, because he’s just that fine.”
“You go ahead and think that then,” I tell her, but I smile back at her. “To each her own.”
“And what is your own?” she asks. “Who do you think is attractive? You never did tell me who you want to ravage you like a lion in the jungle pounces on his prey.”
I shake my head.
“This isn’t the time or place to tell you about that,” I insist, even though I don’t know where would be a better time and place, considering that my mom only lets me out of her sight to come here to school.
“That’s okay,” she says, snatching a piece of paper from out of my notebook. “I’ll just read about it.”
“Oh, my God, stop it,” I almost yell, causing Dr. Calvert to glance in our direction.
“Everything okay, ladies?” he asks us.
“Yes, Professor,” Diana answers, staring at him and giggling like she’s eight years old. She definitely has the hots for him. Just like I have for Dr. Monroe.
And it’s written all over the paper she has in her hands. The entire account of what Dr. Monroe did to me yesterday and what I want him to do today. My eyes widen as I watch with horror as Diana reads the words.
“Oh, wow,” she says, her voice low but amazed.
I expect her to ask me what’s wrong with me— how could I be deranged enough to let my doctor finger me, to want him to fuck me?
But instead she says, “This is really good, EJ. I mean, yesterday, I got a sense that there was this bad girl hiding inside you that I never knew existed. But now I see that you really know how to let her out when it comes to fantasy and creative writing. You should really make use of this stuff you write. It’s good, and I have no idea how you come up with it.”
“Yes, fantasy,” I repeat. “And creative writing.”
She thinks that what I’ve written is just a story. She doesn’t know it’s true. Thank God. I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Ooooh, Dr. Monroe, like at Houghton Family Practice? That’s a nice touch. He’s a hottie for sure. If you’re into older guys of course. Which I am, of course. Obviously.”
She nods her head towards Dr. Calvert, who is still glaring at us as he talks about similarities between packs of wolves and hunter- gatherer societies in early human civilization.
Now I’m embarrassed, even though she does think it’s all made up. Who would make up something so insane?
And what if somehow word got back to my mom that I’m writing “stories” about Dr. Monroe? She’d been so happy after yesterday’s exam and things were finally being set up in a way that she couldn’t control, even though she thinks she’s in complete control of everything. She’s willingly taking me to see him without knowing what he’s done to me and what I want him to keep doing. It’s a brilliant set up and I don’t want anything to ruin it.
Damn me forever writing this down. If Mom hears about it she’ll never take me back to see Dr. Monroe, and she’ll never let me out of the house for that matter. I won’t get to lose my virginity and I’ll have to become a bitter, crazy old maid like she is. Perhaps what’s even worse (or maybe it just seems like the worst thing in the world right now), is that I’ll never get to see Dr. Monroe again.
“Don’t tell anyone,” I whisper to Diana. “Obviously, it’s just some crazy story I came up with. It’s embarrassing and silly.”
“What’s there to tell?” she asks. “That you write really hot sex scenes? That you’re the modern-day Anais Nin?”
I just stare at her panic stricken until she says, “Don’t worry EJ, I won’t tell anyone. Pinky swear.”
She holds out her pinky to me and it takes me a minute to realize I’m supposed to grasp onto it and shake. So, I do, and it feels strange to have a friend.
“Ladies,” Dr. Calvert says again. “Unless you’re demonstrating a mating dance of early evolutionary cave women, we are not interested. If I must ask you to settle down one more time, you’ll have to stay after class and talk about what’s so interesting that you can’t listen to my lecture.”
“Yes, Sir,” I say, and Diana says, “Yes, Professor,” while looking at him as if he can scold her anytime.
The look he returns reminds me of the one that Dr. Monroe gives me, and reminds me of how excited I am to see him soon. My panties are already wet, and I can’t wait until he takes them off me like he promised to do.
Diana and I quiet down as requested, but she writes a note in the blank space on my piece of paper that’s full of dirty fantasies— and now some realities— involving Dr. Monroe.
Dr. Calvert can keep me after class any time, it says. I’m sure he’ll have a lot to teach me.
I smile at her, being careful not to say anything. I don’t want to be publicly called out by Dr. Calvert again, even though it’s not my worst fear. That would have been my most terrifying nightmare in the past, but today I’m feeling particularly brave.
More importantly, I don’t want to spill my guts to Diana. I don’t want anything to ruin what I have going with Dr. Monroe. So, although I feel tempted to write her back, I don’t. I only think it in my head.
I know exactly how you feel. But, lucky me— my lessons start as soon as class gets out.