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As if this assignment wasn’t time consuming enough, now he wants me to take some more time out of my day and for what? Tutor him? I’d bet him five hundred bucks that he would run away within the first five minutes of my tutoring. I am not patient when teaching dumb students. It is one of the reasons why I never signed up to be a tutor or anyone’s mentor.

I have barely a teaspoon full of patience.

“I am not tutoring you. I don’t have the time or the energy.” And I can’t be with you in a room, without the constant urge to jump your bones.

“Then, I am not letting you interview me.” He says as he folds his hands. God, he’s cute. Adorable even. Yet so handsome and sexy at the same time. Snap out of it Ri! Don’t fall for his charm again.

“Fine. Works for me. I will ask for someone else. Maybe I can get Raj…” a wide grin is pasted on my face as I think about spending time with Raj.

“Who is this Raj?” He leans his elbows on the table. “Actually nevermind. I don’t want to know about your boyfriend.” Is he jealous? No! Why would he? He doesn’t remember me and for him this is the first time we are meeting.

“Give me one reason why you can’t tutor me?” He flashes those beautiful blue eyes at me.

I have a hundred reasons. I roll my eyes.

“I want just one.” He says as if he read my mind.

“You play football! And it is not even football…” Okay, I may have a thing against American football. I think it's disrespectful that they call football as soccer and some other game which has nothing to do with feet as Football! “What position do you play anyway? Goalkeeper?” I ask him and he bursts out laughing. God his laugh is warm. His eyes close when he laughs and I think that is the most adorable thing ever.

“You are too funny, Raven.” Raven . It feels like a deja vu.

“My name is Riya.”

He nods and apologises. Although I wouldn’t have minded being named Raven. It sounds so mystical and beautiful compared to Riya. “Although…you are my Raven.” He smolders. And I hate it. I can easily tell that he is trying to do something that is not his cup of tea, because he looks hideous, smoldering like that.

I stiffen a chuckle and gather my books, “I am not yours. Period. Now, if you will excuse me, I have actual stuff to do.” I don’t.

“I’ll see you next week then.” He huffs in a husky voice as I leave. That did not go as I wanted it to. Now I just have to pray that Professor Bart, my Journalism professor, will let me switch people. Maybe I will switch with Angella.

◆◆◆

The old hag stares into my soul like Voldemort. As if I am the one destroying all her Horcruxes. But for that she will have to have a soul, which she does not.

“No.” She says blatantly with her glasses sitting too low on her nose bridge.

I take in a deep breath and tell myself to calm down a bit and not say what I want to. “But, he said that he doesn’t want to do it with me.” I argue with Professor Bart.

She is being completely irrational! “I haven’t received any official email from him. I cannot assign you to someone else if he doesn’t have a problem with it.” I want to roll my eyes so bad!

“But I have a problem with it.” I protest.

“And that is not my problem.” One tiny push and she will break her bones or at the most sprain something that will make her stay inside her home for weeks. But I am not going to do it.

“I said it on the first day and I will say it one last time. The interviewee can change the interviewer not vice versa. Now, Miss Riya. I have other things to do and I suggest you work out your issues and get started on the project.” She turns around in her chair. Classic 80’s villain move!

Bitch.

I sigh and open my email to draft an email to Marcus asking to set a new time to meet. He instead replies to me with his phone number. Great!

I just leave it on read. I have too much on my plate right now. And Marcus James Willliams is the one I would like to take my time with.

◆◆◆

With graduation nearing, I am thinking about grad schools. I was leaning towards studying the effects of treatments and how it differs with the psychology of the patient. Until now, I have studied very bad accidents, where people on the brink of death survive, because of their will power, whereas I have seen cases where people have passed away at funerals of their loved ones or because of grief, accident patients who pass away even after minor injuries.

Although, there are a lot of factors to be considered here, I think that patients who are recovering are the ones who need the utmost care. Their life will never be the same, they will carry the scars- both physical and emotional, for the rest of their life. But that recovery period is very crucial. I don’t take mental health casually, because even though I am a babbler and I love to talk, I love to listen to people even more.

I put myself in their shoes subconsciously and try to reason myself if I would do the same. Justine, despite being a Psychology major herself, often tells me that I am her therapist. And it sounds fun. Natural. I know that everyone has their fair share of struggles, some more than others, but one thing I’ve known from my personal life experiences is that change is the only constant in your life. Nothing is ever going to stay the same way it was, it will change for better or for worse.

◆◆◆

“Nothing. I was free, so I called you. What are you doing?” my sister- Maura says on video call.

She has been very busy lately. Not just with work, but perhaps also her personal life. Her boyfriend to be specific. I have always had a ick about that guy. Then again, nobody could ever be good enough for her in my eyes.

I roll around in my bed and wrap the blanket around like a burrito and plop my feet out to balance the heat. “Nothing much. Just had some homework to catch up on. What about you?” I flip through my Biology textbook on my bed. I am bored out of my mind and this is me trying to do my best to do something about it.

“I just…I was thinking of quitting my job.” I jerk up my head towards her in shock.

That is the first that I’ve ever heard of. “What? Why?”

She sighs out loud, clicking her pen on her head. “I was thinking about opening my own fashion boutique or something like that. Nothing too fancy, but I don’t know if I will be able to… I mean Keith said that I should stick with this job. It’s stable.”

Clearly she’s disappointed.

My only wish is for my sister to see herself through my eyes and maybe then she will realise how precious she is and how she deserves much more.

Growing up, we were inseparable.When she went to high school, we both pushed each other away as we both went through the awkward teenage phase. We finally reconnected when she graduated her bachelors, I thought we were all good until… I don’t want to think about it.

My sister is a pure hearted person, she sees good in everyone. And I know that she doesn’t know how badly her words hurt me when she indirectly chose her boyfriend over me. But as long as she is happy, I am happy.

I want to slap her and hug her at the same time. Slap her because she needs to put her dreams before anything and a hug because she doesn’t put her dreams first. “I think you should do what you feel is right. And opening your own boutique will give you more freedom. I mean the ultimate goal of this job anyway was to open your own fashion line, right?” I ask her.

She doubts herself further. “But I don’t know what mom and dad will think about it. Plus Keith…” another loud sigh. But I am not going to interfere.

She is the glue which holds our family together. She is mom’s favourite and I am dad’s favourite. Okay, maybe she is both of their favourites, but I am happy that she is. She deserves it. So she has nothing to worry about.

Mom and Dad moved back to India when I was in 4th grade, my grandmother- dad’s mother, fell sick and was diagnosed with lung cancer and could not travel to the US for treatment, so my parents moved back to India with me and my sister. I completed the rest of my education there and came back for undergrad.

“Why don’t you directly talk to them about this?” I ask her.

She pouts. “I don’t know. They were pretty pissed when I told them that I was going to New York instead of New Jersey. I mean our house is still there, closed, collecting dirt.” My sister chose to stay in New York and she works for a fashion company.

She always wanted to be a fashion designer, she has always had that potential in her. That’s why I would always steal clothes from her closet. We used to live in New Jersey back then, but I chose to go to Massachusetts for Undergrad.

Winston University offered a better Psychology program and it’s closer to Boston. I’ve wanted to experience both the city life and the small town vibe.

Despite having enough money in my bank account, I still worked on campus, because I used to feel lonely in my free time. And the library is not a bad place to work.

India had just started to feel like home and then I had to leave to come back here.

Hiraeth. It feels like I have no home anymore.

I thought that it would again start to feel like home here, but it doesn’t. Maybe because mom and dad are still in India and they don’t want to leave there. Understandable.

“That was more than 5 years ago. I am sure that they are over it. Just let it go and do what your heart says and screw whatever Keith is saying.” He is not the boss of your life. I wanted to say that, but I didn’t.

My words make her just as uncomfortable. “Ri…please don’t…he just wants what’s best for me.” she defends him again.

“Okay. Fine. I will call you later, I am doing my homework and don’t stress too much. If you have enough resources and think you will be able to handle your own thing, which I think you can. Go for it. Okay?”

“Okay. Take care.” she flashes me that weak smile.

I hang up and sulk again.

All my life, I have only ever seen relationships crumble around me. Maybe that is the reason why I am a commitment phobe. I know it’s not going to last, so why bother yourself with the heartbreak?

But you know what? Being alone sucks just as much. There are times when I love spending time with myself and thank god that I am single, but there are other times when I crave to be loved.

Whatever.

It’s no big deal.

◆◆◆

“I was going to order take out for both of us.” I look at Justine as she comes out of her room all dolled up. “You said we were going to watch a rerun of Harry Potter, Juju!” I flash my puppy dog eyes.

She shuffles and dances in her same uncomfortable heels. “Jake wanted to go out on a spontaneous date. Isn’t it so sweet of him? I couldn’t say no to him! Sorry Ri.” She pouts. Ugh! I hate seeing people in love. It’s cringe.

“Fine. Have fun I guess.” I swell my cheeks like a pufferfish and Juju comes and kisses my cheek. I roll my eyes at her.

“Sorry babe. Maybe next time. I have shaved everywhere for this date.” she squeaks with the pre-sex glow, or maybe that’s just the highlighter she’s wearing. “I won’t be coming home tonight. So you will have the whole house to yourself. ” She winks at me.

“TMI Juju. TMI.”

She scratches the back of heel and I can see that she is already in pain. I grab her by the shoulders and sit her down on the kitchen aisle bar stool. I walk to the other side and pull out the box of band-aids.

I take her shoe off and find her skin peeling on the back. Why does she bear so much pain? Only because he bought the heels for her?! I will never understand it! I carefully apply the band-aid on her heel and she hisses in pain. “Oh come on. You definitely know more than that. But have fun and I’m sorry.” she laughs it off.

I laugh along to alleviate the awkward tension.

I put her feet back into the heels and give her a slight push towards the door and plop on the couch. I am happy that at least one of us gets to “Go have fun and use protection, kids.” I wave to her from the couch as she exits.

What should I do? I have all this free time.

I go to my room and pull out my portable vibrator from my desk. I put a towel down on the bed and prop myself on the bed.

I turn on the vibrator and as soon as I touch it on my clit, I am immediately teleported to that party last week when I first spotted those blue eyes.

Fuck.

His gorgeous face would look beautiful between my legs. He looks like a man who has hell of skills. I feel an ache in my lower belly as my back arches. I imagine his gorgeous deep blue eyes staring down at me as he thrust in me.

Judging by his size, I am sure his size is also bigger. I wonder if he will fit in me.

I remember seeing his hands. They were huge too. Even his two fingers would stretch me. But most of all, I want to know how his mouth would feel on me. I mean he could have already done that, but I don’t remember any of it and I didn’t wake up with that tingling post-sex sensation between my legs either.

Mmm…

I move the vibrator around until I find the perfect spot and it takes seconds for me to orgasm. My personal best. This is the first time I have ever thought of someone while coming. Damn, it feels different.

I turn off the vibrator and fall back on the bed catching my breath. Out of all the people I could think about, I thought about Marcus.

Why?

Ugh!

It’s better to stay away from him as much as possible. His presence itself is intimidating yet makes me feel light whenever he laughs in his deep voice.

My phone lights up as a call notification pops on it, I shove the vibrator in my purse next to me and pick up the call. It’s an unknown number.

“Hello?” I say in my post orgasm panting voice.

“Are you at the gym?” A male voice asks me.

“Sorry, who is this?” I ask.

“You didn’t save my number, Raven?”

Marcus.