Found in Understanding: Refuge Series Book Three by Debbie Zello (12)

Chapter Twelve

I moved back into the dorm with the help of Royce and Jack, his roommate. Jack said I could stay in his room anytime I wanted to. His innuendo was with or without him being there. Royce punched him.

Jack left, leaving Royce standing in the doorway of my room. We were alone, as none of my suitemates had returned yet. I was two feet away from him looking in his eyes about to thank him and say good-bye. He reached for my hand and said, “Four months, Neomi. In four months we’ll talk about the future.”

“I’ve waited this long to kiss a man, I guess four more months won’t be bad.”

“You’ve never kissed a man before? You’ve kissed boys though, haven’t you?” he said, his eyebrows knitting together. I just shook my head.

“You’ve never been kissed before?” he asked shocked at the thought.

“No. I didn’t date or have a boyfriend. I wasn’t…popular,” I said quietly. He tugged my hand to pull me close. Placing it around his back, he used his fingers from that hand to lift my chin. Wrapping his free arm around my shoulders, he drew me up against his chest. His lips lowered to mine in a slow, tender meeting that rendered me unable to breathe. He lingered a few seconds and then separated, looking in my eyes for my reaction.

“Now I’ve really broken the rules. I couldn’t make you wait four more months for your first kiss. That would be cruel. You should be kissed often. Every minute of every day, in fact.”

“I’ve never been a rule breaker, but as first times go, that was worth it. I would like very much to be kissed often, especially by you,” I said, meaning every word.

“I have to go. I’ll see you in class on Monday. I have a lot to say to you, Neomi. So much to say and more kissing involved. If you’ll just wait for me,” he said touching my cheek.

“See you Monday. Thank you for letting me stay,” I said watching him walk to the door and leave. I touched my lips still feeling his lips there. Every love song ever sung played in my head. I floated all weekend and marked my calendar with a big red heart on the last day of finals.

My classes were going well. Work was fine and the time was passing. Royce maintained his professional demeanor with me. He completely stopped staring at me as if that one kiss satisfied his curiosity enough to not need any connection. I almost felt bereft, as if our very brief link was over.

He didn’t call on me in class. I never saw him around the campus, in a library, or on the street. I finally convinced myself that it was all a dream and never really happened.

So, the day that I walked into class the last week before finals I was surprised when he called on me. “Miss Dillon. Do you remember the first assignment that was given the first day of classes’ way back in August?”

“I do, Mr. Kane,” I answered, rather monotone, even for me. He smiled, I guess he heard it too.

“What was it, if you don’t mind?”

“You asked us to write an essay of at least one-thousand words. You wanted to know who we are and what we are doing here.”

“That’s correct, thank you. Your final assignment for this class is to compose another essay of at least one-thousand words. This one will also be on the topic of who you are and what you’re doing here.”

“As a twist, you must write it using the literary lessons that you have learned here over the last two semesters. In other words, I want you to be an English literature author.”

“This assignment will count as half of your final grade. I know that many of you slacked off on the first assignment thinking it was a ‘get to know you’ and nothing more. If you do that this time, it will be at your peril.”

“Should you have any questions about the assignment, please see me after class or during my office hours. Professor Miller is suspending classes until next Tuesday, when you will be here to turn in this assignment and complete your final.”

Great! I didn’t exactly do the assignment the first time. Now I have no choice but to complete it or fail the final. Failing, at least on purpose, wasn’t my style.

I went to the library in my dorm building as soon as I got back. I needed to start on this assignment now if I had any hope of receiving the A that I wanted.

My life began, at the moment of my birth, at the age of three. My parents, sister and I found ourselves homeless, poor and hungry. With an address on a scrap of paper and bus fare from a church group, we walked down a dirt road towards salvation.

A man as big as a grizzly bear, with the heart of a lion, and the patience of a saint, greeted us. He said his name was Sky and he called me Firelight. For that is who I am. I am Firelight.

I told him who I was in my thousand-word essay. I wrote about the way society treated anyone it considered different from its norm. How events could be made up so quickly. How rumors rapidly became facts and facts became labels. How labels could ruin futures and lives.

It took me hours. I scrapped it so many times and started over. When I finally finished it, I cried. It was all out and once I turned this in, he would know. Now, I just prayed he wouldn’t look at me differently, once he read it. I hated being odd. I came here to be someone new and didn’t want to go back.

I walked into class Tuesday afternoon with my paper securely in my folder. I thought once again about not turning it in and suffering the consequences of my actions. Then, with a deep breath, I walked up to the front desk and added my folder to the pile already there.

In my mind, I could see the firing squad taking aim. Then I remembered that I wrote this paper the last week of April. I’m allowed to do foolish things in April. Foolish things like tell my complete life story.

I took my seat along with the rest of the class. Professor Miller and Mr. Kane walked in together, deep in conversation. Royce kept his head down but had a small shy smile on his lips as Professor Miller spoke.

They must have felt every eye was on them because they both looked up at the same time. “Sorry, Mr. Kane and I were discussing semantics. I see you’ve turned in your assignments. Has anyone not turned theirs in?” Professor Miller asked. He looked around but no one raised their hand. “Good, I look forward to reading them.”

“Mr. Kane will pass out the second part of your final. As soon as you complete it, place it on the corner of the desk and you may leave. I hope you have a restful summer. For those of you taking my seminar on Lust and Love in the Eighteenth Century, I will see you in the fall. You may begin.”

As was my usual practice, I looked over the entire exam before starting it. The very last question stunned me.

Bonus- This question will not count against your grade. It isn’t worth any extra points either. Will you have lunch with me after class?

I quickly darted my eyes around to see if anyone else had this question on their tests. Everyone around me had begun the test on the first page. I was the only one who had flipped to the last.

I looked toward the front of the room to see Royce staring at me. As soon as he caught my eye, he raised his eyebrow as if to say ‘Well?’ I smiled and nodded. I put my head down and continued the exam.

The exam was exactly as I expected it to be and I was one of the first to finish. I stood to leave and walked to the desk with my exam. As I placed it on the desk, Professor Miller smiled. “I had a conversation earlier about you. I’m looking forward to seeing you in the fall, Miss Dillon. I have high hopes for you.”

“Thank you Professor Miller. I hope you enjoy your summer,” I said smiling. I walked out not knowing where Royce was.

I turned right out the door heading towards the parking lot where I expected to see Royce waiting for me. I got to the end of the hall before I was pulled by my arm into a room. It startled me until I saw it was Royce that had my arm.

His lips were on mine as soon as he had shut the door. “I couldn’t wait to kiss you until I had you outside,” he said in between kisses. “I thought I was going to explode. Four months is a very long time.”

“That it is. Did you tell Professor Miller about us?”

“This morning. He said he didn’t suspect anything so there’s no problem with any charge of special treatment. I always made sure he was grading your papers. I never touched them. He said as far as he was concerned, there was no foul.”

“Is he one of the professors you will be defending your dissertation in front of?”

“He’s my advisor, so yes. Then it’s Webster and Arnold. But I don’t want to talk about that. I want to kiss you some more,” he said, placing his lips over mine.