Pat turned and began walking toward her residence door. The building was dark except for a dull yellow light in the foyer. Her heart was pounding. Her mind was racing. Her breasts were heaving and… goddammit, her nipples were still hard and her clitoris ached with sexual longing. What should she do? Go upstairs and masturbate? What a pathetic way to end a night like tonight! Then it occurred to her that Jake might still be at the party. Maybe a one-night stand wouldn't be such a bad idea after all and, as she knew, she was actually near the end of her cycle and about to start her period. She really was safe! Yes, she'd do it!
Soundtrack: Bridge Over Troubled Waters---Aretha Franklin
She had to talk to Bill... to ask him for help with this Luis thing. He'd understand. He'd been through this sort of thing dozens of times with various women. All of her thoughts from ten minutes ago of satisfying her horniness with Jake had long since passed. She needed to talk, not have sex.
Soundtrack: Bridge Over Troubled Waters---Aretha Franklin
Pat turned around and began walking briskly back toward Bill's. Images of Jake and her fornicating wildly alternated with those of Bill and Christine similarly engaged. Trying to banish the latter from her mind, much more troubling images crept in: she and Luis embracing — lovingly, not just lustily. No. It was impossible! It was too horrible to even consider! What was she thinking?
She started running now, determined to blot out any thoughts of Luis and her. She picked up speed, her breath became shorter, her temples throbbed, her lungs filled with the cool night air.
She stood for a moment in the muted light emanating from Bill's house; she could make out, just barely, the music leaking out the front door. Pat burst in. There was Bill, surrounded by a small group of gyrating nymphets, including Christine. So, just as she'd figured: he hadn't gone upstairs to her.
She had to talk to Bill... to ask him for help with this Luis thing. He'd understand. He'd been through this sort of thing dozens of times with various women. All of her thoughts from ten minutes ago of satisfying her horniness with Jake had long since passed. She needed to talk, not have sex.
"Bill, can I speak with you?" she gasped, trying to catch her breath after her sprint back to Bill's house.
Bill seemed only too pleased to extricate himself from the girls, who appeared to be smothering him. "Sure, Pat. Hey girls, sorry, but I gotta' go. Damsel in distress and all that, you know."
Bill could be so corny sometimes, but Pat appreciated the immediacy of his response to her. They walked out the door together and, suddenly, she felt all hell break loose inside her. She began sobbing uncontrollably. She didn't even know why. She couldn't put together a coherent thought at the moment, so she just let herself go. She was aware of Bill's presence, his long arm squeezing her shoulder comfortingly, and his occasional attempts to break into her thoughts, to ask her gently what was wrong, but other than that, she was simply consumed by her own mindless sobbing.
After awhile--- she couldn't have said how long--- Pat looked up and, for the second time that night, noticed that she was standing in front of her dorm with no real memory of how she’d gotten there. She glanced over at Bill and noted with some puzzlement the deep concern on his face.
As Pat strained to remember what she might have said to Bill to so disturb him, she realized that she actually hadn't spoken a word to him since they'd left his house. All she’d done was cry, which was completely unlike her. Maybe that was what had Bill so worried.
Now, Pat was embarrassed. Not only had she carried on like an hysterical woman, but she couldn’t even recall what it was that she'd thought she wanted to tell Bill. Still, she felt that she owed it to him to provide some sort of explanation. Better ask him up to talk a bit.
Oh wait...what about Bill’s rigid rules about not being alone anywhere with female students, let alone in their room at night?
Screw it! Pat sucked in her breath and in her practiced lawyerly tone said: "Bill. This is my building and, in case you're wondering, as a grad student, the U considers me to be an adult, so I’m allowed to have guests up."
That was technically true, although, in fact, guests were supposed to sign in. But Pat left that out because she knew Bill would never agree to come up if he had to sign in, thereby leaving a written record of his having been in a women's dorm at this hour!
She went on, shifting to a more personal tone: "I'd really appreciate it if you would come up and stay with me for a while. I know it's against your rules and all to be alone with a woman student, especially at night, but I need some company right now. I just can't face being alone. And don't worry. I'm not one of your groupies out to get you in the sack!"
“I’m not worried,” Bill said, but Pat noticed an anxious look on his face, which seemed to belie his assertion.
As for herself, Pat wasn’t worried in the slightest about her intent in asking Bill up to her room. There was no way that she and Bill would step over the line between student and prof. And she really didn’t want to be alone just now… even though she wasn’t quite sure what it was that she wanted to share with Bill about her feelings at the moment.
As the two of them moved up the front walk toward the building entrance, Pat noticed Bill looking around, apparently apprehensive that he’d be seen in this situation. Fortunately, there wasn’t anyone around, either outside or in the foyer.
Pat removed the keys from her purse as they were climbing the stairs to her second floor room, so that no sooner had they reached her door than she had it open and they were inside. Then, even before turning on the lights, she crossed to the windows and lowered the blinds so no one from outside would be able to see Bill in her room. And as a final pièce de résistance, she turned on her tinny stereo to play some music loudly enough so none of her dorm neighbors would be able to make out their voices.
"Please, have a seat," Pat said to Bill, indicating the small couch that divided the rather large room in half, creating a sitting area/study on one side and a bedroom on the other.
Bill sat down tentatively and began looking around the room. O-migosh! Pat thought, as she noticed Bill's eyes taking in some of the details of her private life...not just her exceptionally orderly desk and bookcases carefully arranged by course, but also her unmade bed and yellow silk nightgown atop it, not to mention her sweatpants lying in a pile on the floor, next to some dirty socks, and a pair of beat up sneakers.
"Oh, damn! I don't usually have anyone up here, so the place is kind of a mess. Sorry." Pat exclaimed as she walked over and shoved her sweats, socks, and sneaks into a closet and closed the door.
Bill laughed, "Actually, I was sort of enjoying it. I'm so used to you being the epitome of neatness and order that it's almost a relief to see another side of you!"
Pat smiled... for the first time since they'd left Bill's house. "Yeah and I guess you saw yet another side of me earlier this evening! I'm sure you've been wondering what that was all about, haven't you?"
Bill's smile faded, replaced by a studied look of concern, "Well, as a matter of fact... yes... uhm, that is if you feel up to talking about it."
"Sure.. in a moment. But, first, can I offer you anything to drink? Soda? OJ? I'm out of beer on account of my friend Jukie being over earlier and finishing off what I had" Pat replied, not at all sure why she'd felt it necessary to mention Jukie's visit.
Bill appeared bemused, either by Pat's non-sequiter mention of Jukie or perhaps by her currently relaxed manner, which she was aware stood in stark contrast with her earlier hysteria.
"Sure," Bill replied, "I'll take a soda."
Pat walked over to the refrigerator and bent over to extract a couple of bottles of Coke. As she did so, she realized that she was probably showing Bill more of her thigh than she should be. She quickly straightened up and, as she turned, she thought she noticed Bill averting his eyes. She felt herself blush...or perhaps it was more of a flush, a warmth spreading over her body?
Despite herself, Pat found herself smiling both at the thought of her accidentally turning Bill on and at the beat of the music, which had her fingers snapping, as she sashayed over to Bill, Coke in hand.
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