U of M Series: The Chemistry Poet

Chapter 9: Sawyer

Fuck. Where is it?

I scour my bedroom looking my composition book. The composition book. 

The one I write in. Not notes but... like love and sex and stuff. Embarrassing shit. 

Not a diary per se but poems, short stories, fantasies. Nicholas Sparks meets Fifty Shades of Grey. 

Things that'll be the death of me if one of my roommates found it. I never write my name in my writing pads, just in case of something like this. But if my roommates found it, it'd be pretty easy to narrow it down to who wrote it.

I rip the covers off my bed, pull clothes out of my dresser drawer, search my Wrangler. It's nowhere to be found. 

Shit. Sitting on the edge of my bed I scrub my hands over my face. I can only imagine the gossip on campus—tough hockey player writes love stories. My heart races.

On one hand, I love to write. I took many English classes and writing classes for pure enjoyment. I wanted to major in it, but my dad forbade me, threatening to not pay for school. Having someone finally read my stuff is exciting. On the other hand, my reputation is gone. I'm supposed to be the tough guy who gets drafted in the NHL or goes to medical school like Dad.

Now I'm stressed out and I don't get the cathartic release of writing it out. 

After touching Piper in class, I had all these amazing ideas of what I wanted to do to her. Since I probably wouldn't get to do them in real life anytime soon, writing was the next outlet for me. 

The feel of her silky hair between my fingers, her smooth legs rubbing against mine, the relaxing sounds of contentment she made when I played with her hair. What other sounds of pleasure could I elicit from her? 

All this energy bubbles and burns in me when it stays pent up. I decide to go for a run. Lacing up my shoes tight, I take off. I focus on the feel of the gravel pavement rolling under my shoes, my labored breathing, the loud music pumping in my ears. The distraction doesn't last long because my mind goes back to Kitty and how much I'd prefer to get my energy out by being buried deep inside her. 

I got it bad.

*~*

Practice runs late because on Wednesday because we have our first game in two days. I don't have time to shower before lab, Piper will kill me if I am late. Jogging across campus from the rink to the science building, I arrive exactly one minute late. Knowing Kitty, one minute is probably unforgivable.

Opening the door with a bang, I grimace before heading to our lab station. I expect to see two glaring yellow-green eyes, instead I find empty stools. 

I survey the room. She's talking to some dude in the corner of the room. She Touches his bicep and laughs too loudly. Is she flirting with this clown? Jealousy rolls through me. I go sit at our lab station and fold my arms across my chest while I watch them. 

I guess as far as chem nerds go, he isn't the worst looking. He looks like he works out and isn't totally socially awkward. She smiles at him, I strain my ears tying to hear what they are saying. I tap my foot, impatiently waiting for her. Did she even notice I am here?

He grabs out his phone from his lab coat and hands it to her. She punches in something and gives it back to him with fluttering eyes and a hair flip. She just gave him her number? She's my girl. I mean, she will be. I feel my nails digging in my palms, I look down to see my hands in fists clenched so tight my knuckles are white. Chill, bro.

I lose my patience and stalk over to them. I hear him saying something about seeing her Friday. I was supposed to be asking her out.