Shut Up And Kiss Me (gxg)

41. Are You F*cked

       DURING OUR LAST TUTORING session, Monroe brought me a single piece of paper.

       A note that read: You set me on fire.

       I recognized it instantly―a fragment of a poem written by Sappho. I almost dissolved right then and there. Because my girlfriend, giving me lesbian poetry? It was . . . strangely hot. And I was turned on. In the library. Again.

       "I guess this is our last time studying English together," Monroe said.

       "Not that you needed it." I gave her a pointed look. "What mark do you think you'll have?"

       Monroe shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me. I've already been accepted into NYU."

       "You've . . ." My mouth went dry. "You've been accepted? Into NYU?"

      "Scholarship and everything. I applied early. And I got in, even with my shitty English mark. I wrote a pretty killer admissions essay."

       That wasn't a surprise, but― "Did you . . . put down a deposit and everything? It's for sure?"

       Because Manhattan, New York wasn't far. But it wasn't close, either. From our little town on the outskirts, it'd be a two-hour drive.

       It'd be stupid, right, to ask her if she wants to be long-distance?

       "Yeah," said Monroe, and I was startled for a moment, before realizing she had answered my question about the deposit.

       NYU was in September of next year. Almost eight months from now. How could I assume we'd still be together then? Maybe she wouldn't even want to be. 

      Stop. Stop. Stop it. "Will you come home every once in a while?"

      Monroe gave me a strange look. "For my girlfriend? Every weekend." 

      And my heart―it must have stopped beating. Because the next thing I knew, Monroe was right in front of me. A teasing smile played on her lips.

      "I'm not going to Australia or Russia," she breathed. "I'll only be a car ride away."

      Would she still want a girlfriend who was in high school when she was in university?

      "Hey. Talia," she said, grasping either side of my face. "I like you. I'm not planning on breaking up with you or ditching you or anything. Okay?"

       I smiled. Just a little. "Okay."

       THAT MEANT SHE WANTED TO be with me for the next eight months. From September and onwards. This wasn't just a fling for her. It wasn't just a silly high school relationship.

       She wanted me. Permanently.

       The whole day, I floated through the hallway. Even in math class, during our last unit, I barely noticed the teacher picking on kids. I didn't even care when he called on me, and I didn't know the answer. 

       "Why do you have that stupid smile on your face?" Aaron said, ruffling my hair as I buckled my seatbelt at the end of the day.

        "I don't know what you're talking about."

        Aaron gave me a look that said, Bullshit. He started his Mercedes, backing out of the parking lot, when a tiny blue car rammed into us.