Chapter 7
Morgan
“What are you doing tonight?” Nate asks right before he tears into his huge sandwich. It looks like it weighs eight pounds. I guess big guys need big food.
Since it’s the first Friday of the semester, much of the campus will be quiet. There are several season openers tomorrow and many of the frats have athletes. Saturday will be the first party night.
“Laundry and studying. I don’t really have a handle on Wang’s class.”
“I’m not sure you should get a handle on Wang.”
I laugh. Wang jokes never get old. We’ve been throwing them around a lot today. I should probably stop because it just makes me think about wangs, which are not things I should think about when having lunch with Nate.
“Funny.”
“I try. You should come over later and drink with me.”
“Oh, well, I forgot to mention that laundry is code for drink cheap wine with my girls while sorting whites from darks and pretending to study. It’s kind of tradition the first Friday back.”
“I get it. We do the same thing at Tau.”
“You drink and do laundry together?”
“No,” he says. “We hang the first weekend. But so many brothers are in a sport this year, it’s put a damper on things. Lacrosse is out of town this weekend so the house will be quiet. I’ll be lonely.”
“Oh, so I’m your back-up?” I tease.
“Yep.”
“Nice. Your honesty is disturbing.”
“Thanks,” he smiles. “What about tomorrow?”
“I will probably lock myself in the library. I have to get started on my research for that paper Wang assigned. I really have no idea what I’m doing. I can’t even pronounce Mao Zedong’s name correctly. I was never exposed to this stuff in high school and I’m afraid I’m really going to struggle this semester.”
“Let me help you,” he suggests.
“What? Like tutor me?”
“Sure. I am a History major, you know. And I’m good at it.”
He’s right. He is good at this sort of thing. Nate could speed up my research time. He might even proofread my paper, if I ask him.
“Do you really have the time? I don’t want to put you out.”
“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to help you, Morgan. Seriously. It will be fun.”
“Yeah, fun isn’t the word I’d use.”
“You’ve never studied with me before. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”
“I, uh, don’t think you’re gonna be too impressed with me, Nate. I—”
“Oh, shut it. You’re taking this as a requirement, so of course you don’t have much of a foundation for the material. I’m actually a decent tutor. It’s just a matter of working with what you’ve already got, Morgan. And you have an appetite to learn, so work with it. The rest will fall into place.”
I’m close to begging for some more complements. They’re the best foreplay I’ve ever had, if my wet panties are any indication. I want some more, so I decide to go with it.
“Alright. What time?”
“Can you wait until after dinner? I have a few things to do in the house and I need to wrap up a chapter in my book.”
Of course, he needs to get some writing done. For his book. What about school? When does he do his school work? I guess it’s not any of my business. He obviously knows what he’s doing.
“Sure. Library?”
Nate looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “My room. I have all the texts you’ll ever need. The rest is in here.” He taps the side of his head.
“So fucking modest,” I say.
Nate winks at me and returns to his sandwich.
***
Saturday, at 6:30 on the nose, I knock on Nate’s door. Which is stupid, because it’s open and he’s sitting on the couch looking at me.
“Hey, Monday,” he says.
“You know I hate that nickname, right?”
“Yes, you’ve told me at least a dozen times this week.”
“Just checking,” I grumble as I put my backpack on the floor and sit next to him.
“Here,” he holds out a thick paperback. “This might be the most helpful book I can give you.”
I take it and look it over. It’s worn and has quite a few Post-Its marking pages. I flip through the pages and see that he’s written notes in margins, underlined some passages, and highlighted text. He must have used this for another class.
When I get to the first Post-It, I see my name written on it. Under my name is an arrow pointing to a paragraph. I flip to the next Post-It and see the same thing. I continue flipping and see that every Post-It has my name on it. Did Nate sit down and go through this entire book, finding information for me?
“Is this what you did today?” I ask.
Nate looks sheepish. “I had some time. I thought I’d mark passages that would give you some context for what was happening in Asia in the 1800s. It will help you understand Mao’s rise to power a little better. I didn’t want you to have to flip through the whole book.”
“Wow. That was very thoughtful of you. Thank you.”
I stare at the book so I don’t have to make eye contact. I can’t believe he put this kind of effort into helping me out.
“It’s nothing. Seriously.”
“Well, to me it’s more than nothing.”
I don’t want to stay on this topic of conversation, so I look up at him and ask, “Where should we start?”
Nate’s face lights up, like I have given him the best present in the world. He starts speaking animatedly about life in China during the second half of the nineteenth century. Damn. Is this his idea of a good time?
I listen and ask questions when I don’t understand. Of course, he knows the answer to every question I ask. A few times he points out something from the book and I write it in my notebook.
Nate’s enthusiasm for the content helps me. It’s hard not to pay attention to a teacher who’s this excited about disseminating information. Weirdo.
A small voice inside protests that I simply don’t want to muck this up. I kind of want him to see me do a good job.
Maybe, if I do well on this upcoming paper, he’ll give me a pat on the back. Or on the ass. You know, whichever.
I blush and try to refocus myself on what he’s saying. After a couple of hours, we take a break and he pops some popcorn.
His room is full of snacks. A lot of them. His is one of the few single rooms, so it’s not anything he’s sharing with a roommate.
“Do you eat all the time?”
“Pretty much.”
I giggle. “Do you drink all the time, too?” I ask, pointing to the variety of hard liquor lining the shelves above his mini fridge.
“No. I don’t drink that often. Usually only on Saturdays or when the house has a function.” He offers me some of the popcorn and I take a handful.
“Today is Saturday. Did you have plans tonight?” I ask.
“Yes. Studying with you. Speaking of Saturday, are you wearing the right pair?” Nate tries keeping a serious face when he asks.
I’m starting to think Nate might be a little fixated on the topic of my undies. I like it so much, I might encourage the behavior.
“I, uh, lost the Saturdays.”
I’ve never flirted this much with anyone in my life. Well, I think this is flirting. Maybe it’s just teasing? I don’t want to stop despite knowing that I really should stop. Neither of us is single.
“Ooh, do tell.”
“For all I know, one of the campus security guys has them. I left them poolside when we broke in last year. We had to leave in a hurry and I couldn’t find them in the dark.”
“Who do you think has them? The old one, Bob?” he asks as he gets up and grabs a binder from one of the shelves.
“Yuck. Let’s not go there.” I get an image of creepy Bob sniffing my Saturday undies and it gives me a shiver.
“If you insist. Here.”
“What’s this?” I ask, taking the binder and putting it on my lap.
“That is everything I have regarding Mao, everything from his Red Guard, to the state of China and Mongolia before, during, and after his birth. And even a few thoughts on the consequences of his reign, both positive and negative.”
“And you just happened to have this sitting in a binder?” How convenient. For me.
“Kind of.” He scratches his head. “Most of that was from a course I took on the rise of Communism. On Monday, I started putting some other stuff in that I thought might be pertinent.”
“For your book? I don’t want to take anything you need, Nate.”
He shakes his head. “No, I put it together for you.”
My stomach flips. Nate must have spent hours putting together materials to help me. Wait, did he say Monday?
“You said you started doing this on Monday?”
“Yes.
“But you didn’t know I’d need a tutor on Monday.”
Please say you didn’t think on Monday that I was hopeless and in need of rescuing. I really don’t want to have to resent someone that I want to see naked.
“No, I thought it would be more of a peace offering.”
I frown. “Are we fighting?”
He laughs. “No, but I wasn’t sure how to smooth over what happened in class. This was all I could come up with.”
Now I’m laughing. “Really? That’s all you could come up with? A binder full of Mao?”
“Well, I did consider apologizing again, but since I already did, it seemed redundant.”
I laugh harder. “Wow. I sincerely hope you and your girlfriend don’t fight very often.”
“We fight all the time, actually.”
“Probably because you don’t apologize,” I say as I slap his leg.
He looks down where my hand struck his thigh. Oops. Nate might not be used to this sort of behavior. “Sorry. I’m a hitter.”
“And I sincerely hope you and your boyfriend don’t fight very often. I’d hate for you to get in trouble with the law for hitting.”
“Oh, I don’t hit Alex, even when being playful. He’s incapable of taking a joke.”
Nate scratches the scruff on his chin. I’ve noticed he tends to scratch things when he’s thinking, which is often.
“I’m surprised you’re with someone who can’t take a joke.”
“You and me both.”
Shit. That one just flew out of my mouth on accident. This is dangerous territory for us to venture into.
I don’t want to talk about our significant others. I want to study. And hang out as friends. And apparently, denial is one of my best friends right now.
“Okay, I think we’re off track, mister.” It’s the best I can come up with to get us back to why I’m here.
He looks almost disappointed with my change of subject, but nods and says, “Fair enough.”
We spend the next hour making sure I understand all that we’ve discussed, thus far. For the first time in my life, studying is enjoyable.