Pushing Limits (18 page)

I am entranced with my food when I notice someone standing next to my
table.  I look up into the eyes of one pissed off sorority chick. 
Now, almost everyone here looks like a sorority chick, but this one is proudly
sporting a Tri Psi shirt with one big ass frown. 

“I worked hard to get into this school,” she says, her hands on her hips,
sneer intact.  “I mean really
hard
.  I studied every weekend
for a year for my SATs and worked my butt off in high school so I could go
here.  I didn’t have a rich mommy and daddy who merely wrote a check, and
BAM
,
I was in.  I had to work to be accepted.”  She crosses her arms and
glares at me.

“Uh.  Congratulations?” I say. 
Great!  Another
one?  How did this get all over campus?

“Right,” she says, rolling her eyes.  Pointing her finger at me, she
says, “Someone like you tarnishes this place. 
Someone like you
takes a big ‘
ol
dump on everything I worked for and
everyone here.  All you had to do was have your mama and daddy write a
check.  You make me sick.  Why don’t you hop a plane to the Hamptons
or Beverly Hills and go back to where you came from?  Give your spot to
someone who worked for it.”

“Wow.  Why don’t you fuck off?” I say and return my attention to my
meal as my blood pounds in my ears and I feel my chest tighten.  I feel
like throwing up my breakfast as I stare down at my plate, hardening my heart
and shaking off this wonderful confrontation.  I pray my blush will fade
and not show this chick she has gotten to me.   

Luckily when she realizes I’m not going to give her the argument or
retaliation she expects, she flips her hair, and walks back to her table. 
More whispers and stares float from her table.

I stay and pick at my food hoping they will leave soon.  I’m
determined not to let them chase me off.  
How the fuck does
anyone know anything about me?

I grab a Starbucks and drink to this wonderful elixir of dark roast
coffee, milk, and today…chocolate.  “Sweet nectar of the Gods” escapes
from my lips every time because it just fucking is…sweet nectar.  The
explosion of caffeine, the heat of the coffee warming my mouth, the bite in my
cheeks after I swallow.  Damn, it’s pure joy and after that breakfast, I
fucking deserve it.

I head over to the courts, thankful for a chance to play.  I have
loved tennis since I was six years old.  The courts were my
sanctuary.  It was only me against another player.  I had only myself
to rely on, win or lose.   It helped that this was a sport my mother
respected.  It was acceptable in “our set.”  Things were that much sweeter
when I turned fourteen and started to kick her ass on the court.  It
started slow, winning a few matches here and there.  She would act
flippant about it as if it didn’t matter to her.  But by the time I turned
seventeen, she couldn’t beat me, and it pissed her off to no end. 
Hmm,
that was a good summer
. 

As I start my long trek up to the courts on campus, I’m content to merely
enjoy the walk.  The sun is out, and a nice breeze is blowing. 
Massive old oak trees line the street surrounded by sweeping green lawns. 
 As I walk down Speedway, nearing 26
^th
street, I stop, staring.

A billboard announces:

Catherine A. Turner Hall

Government Policy Facility

Coming Soon

 Looking at the sign, I stand dumbfounded.  Typical. 
Leave it to my mother to name a building after herself.  Not my
grandmother or something ambiguous like Turner Hall.  No, she has to have
her full name on a facility in keeping with her political aspirations.  I
pull my phone and text my mother and aunt a picture:

The rumor is you bought my way in here. 

If anyone ever doubted it, now there’s indisputable
proof. 

Thanks.

My phone rings and “Aunt Patty” appears on the display.

“Amber, honey, are you ok?”  Her voice sounds concerned. 
Of
course she is, she knows my mother and her constant need to promote herself.

“Yeah, despite all the people whispering about me and chewing me out to
my face, everything’s peachy,” I say, in an exaggerated happy tone.

“I can’t believe she did this.  First she hauls you off to school
almost overnight and this?  I’ll call her and get to the bottom of
this.  Maybe we can get the sign taken down or something.”

“I doubt that will help.  Why did she have to do this? 
Everything is going really well.  I have a cool roommate, and I’ve
actually made some friends.  I’ve only gotten some papers back, but so far
they were all A’s and B’s.  Why does she keep fucking with me?”

“I don’t know, honey.  That’s great about the grades.  Are you
still seeing someone?” 

Huh, she’s careful not to press to hard.  Interesting turn of
events.
 

“Yeah.”  I stare at the ground.

“Is it going well?”

I can’t keep the smile off my lips.  I whisper, “Yeah, it is.”

“Oh, honey, that’s great.  Look, let me call your mom, so I can find
out about this.  I’ll talk to you soon.” 

“Bye.”  I finish the walk to the courts.  Pissed and sad that
once again my mother has ruined a good thing. 

Coach pairs us off for doubles and my partner is especially curt for a
morning match.  Every foul is barked while she looks down her nose at
me.  She levels shots at my head and body whenever the opportunity
presents itself.  She’s determined to put as much force behind the ball as
possible.  When we meet at the net to shake hands, she sneers, “Spoiled
Princess” as she walks away with her friends from class.

As I walk back to the dorm to grab a shower, I notice more stares and
people whispering.  I unlock the door and shuffle inside, and I hear the
shower going.  Sally must be back.

I knock on the door, “Sally, I need to take a shower.  I have a
class in an hour.”

“You could always join me.” Her sultry voice echoes against the bathroom
walls.

“Not happening, Westin.” 

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”  She yells.  The door opens, and
Sally comes out with only a towel in her hair and nothing covering her
below.  “Hey.”

“Don’t tell me you are actually going to class?” My brows rise as my eyes
widen a fraction.

“Yeah, I have a test.”

“Did you study?”  I smirk.  I rarely see Sally crack a book.

“Not really, well kinda.  It’s hard to explain, I’ve never had to
study much.  I just retain information.  What can I say?  I have
a photographic memory.”

“Right.  Don’t you mean a pornographic memory?”

“Well yeah, that, too,” she says.  “I actually do.  Come and
sit down, I have something I need to talk to you about.”  Changing the
subject, she sits and pats the seat next to her on her bed.

I laugh shaking my head, “Ain’t happenin’ Westin.”

She giggles, “No, I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“I heard a rumor about you.  Did your parents buy your way in
here?” 

“What?  Now you?  You have got to be kidding me!” I say,
walking into the bathroom and slamming the door.

Sally follows me into the bathroom as I stand yanking off my
clothes.  “Get out.” 

“Honey, I’m not here to judge you.”  She looks me over, her brow
furrows with concern and her eyes have a hint of pity.  “I’ve heard some
people talking about how you bought your way into this school.  Most
people are pissed.  I asked around and I found out that Lily spread the rumor. 
It turns out since she works in the Chancellor’s office, she has access to your
file.  The file had some notes about a sizeable endowment from your
mother.  She’s been telling everyone that’s the only reason you got in.”

“Yeah, well, I had a fifteen twenty-five on my SATs and a three point
five GPA in high school.  I didn’t tank in school until
after
I
graduated and Angela died.  I guess all that’s not in my file, huh?” My
eyes narrow as I stare back at her. 

“That’s Lily’s MO.”  Rolling her eyes, she shakes her head and says,
“She takes select parts of information and molds them into a believable
rumor.   Saying enough truth to make it plausible but still do the
most damage.  I’m sorry.  You wouldn’t even be on her radar if you
weren’t my friend.”  She pulls me in for a hug.

Pulling away, I say, “Clothes, Westin.  Put on some damn clothes,
girl.”

“Right, right.  Old habits die hard.”  She smiles with a
sheepish grin.  “I’ll get out of your way.”  She places her hand on
my chest, “Unless you want me to stay.  We could have some fun before you
have to head off to class,” she says, with a leer and a tiny lick of her lips,
giving me what I am sure is her best come-hither look.

“Not happening.”  I laugh as I push her out of the bathroom.  I
take a quick shower and wave to Sally as I run to history class.

 “So…tell me what I should wear to the Hole in the Wall,” I ask
Karen as we walk through the Quad.  “It sounds like an old fashioned dive
bar.”

A voice croons from behind us.  “You could always wear those short
jean shorts with the sexy fishnets you wore a couple of weeks ago,
pequena
.” 
We stop and turn to see Bobby behind us, still dressed in his soccer uniform
complete with a lecherous leer. 
Such an arrogant bastard.

Jerrod runs up to join us.  “Hi, babe.”  He bends down to give
Karen a kiss.  His calloused hand strokes her cheek tenderly.

“Hey, baby.”  Her eyes shine up at him, a light pink blush on her
cheeks.

“Thanks, but I got this,” I say to Bobby. 

“Just trying to help,
pequena
,” he says, flashing me a bright
smile.  “Listen, I’m struggling with my poli-sci paper.  Is there any
way you would consider looking over it?  You know your grades on the
quizzes have been better than mine.”  Getting down on his knees in front
of me, his hands in proper begging stance, he says, “Please,
pequena
?”

Seriously
?  I frown down at him, my eyes glancing around to
make sure no one is watching his theatrics.  “Get up before someone sees
you,” I say.  He joins me on the bench with a playful grin.  “Ok, I
don’t know how I can help you, but I’ll take a look at it.”

His eyes move up and down my body with a devilish grin, and he says,
“What time would you like me at your place tonight?”

With a dry tone, I say, “Ok,
diablo
.  Hold up.  I’ll
meet you at the library at seven, third floor. “

“Sounds good,
pequena
.  You know meeting in the library or
your place doesn’t make a difference to me,” he says, giving me a wink.

Karen says, “We better go, Amber. “  Giving Jerrod a kiss, she
whispers something in his ear.

He smiles and blushes, watching her turn and leave. 

Karen walks briskly to our dorm.  “Don’t look back.  I’m
planting a seed.  If one of us looks back, it’ll ruin it.” She links her
arm in mine, and says, “You know Bobby is going to hit on you the whole night,
right?”

“He can try.  Doesn’t mean he’s going to get anywhere.  His
grades don’t seem that bad, I don’t know why he needs help in the first
place.  I hope this isn’t some meaningless study session for the sole
purpose of getting into my pants.”  I shiver thinking about him and me, my
mouth curving into a sneer. 
Eww
.

“You know he and Sally used to date, right?” she asks.   The
cool air from the lobby hits my face immediately.

“Yeah, how weird is that?”  I scoff with a grimace.  “Sally
with a guy, yeah right.”

“I know!  It’s almost funny,” Karen says, nudging my arm.  “You
know the Sanchez family is one of the oldest families in Texas.   I’m
telling you, Sally has the lineage for that family.  Her family is
self-made, but they still have the pedigree, and her dad has a strong presence
in DC.  They were the perfect couple from what Jerrod tells me.  I
can believe he would want to hook up with her, I mean look at her.  For a
trophy wife, she’d look good on anyone’s arm.   Apparently, they were
pretty hot and heavy for a while.  From what Jerrod tells me, it’s not all
the women Sally slept with that bothered Bobby.  It was the waitresses and
strippers.  If she had slept with someone in their circle, he wouldn’t
have cared.   But all the ‘trash’ as he put it, is what made him
crazy.”

My mouth curves up in disgust.  “That’s snobby.  He’s so
pretentious.  It’s odd relationship strategy with someone like Sally,
too.  Like
any
person, man or woman, could control or
try
to
control her constant penchant for a nice piece of ass.”  

“I know.  Right?”  Karen laughs, pressing our floor
number.  “Don’t be fooled, he’s a total player.”

“Another reason they would have made a perfect match!”  I laugh as
we exit the elevator.  “I know.  His biggest problem is that he was
such a dick when I first met him.  I take it back.  That and more
importantly, I have Tommy.  Not even a chance in hell.” 

“I’ll see you later. I have to clean up before Jerrod comes over,” Karen
says with her hand on her doorknob.

“You’re letting him meet Melissa?” I ask.

“What are you kidding me?  No.”  She smiles a sly smile. 
“Melissa is gone for the weekend.  Bye now.”  She waves and closes
the door.  Good for her.

I unlock my door, and Sally is at her desk, books open at various spots
along the top of the desk.  Her computer is open, and she’s typing
away.  As I walk closer, I can see she’s actually doing homework.  I
nearly go into cardiac arrest.  “Is the world coming to an end?  What
the hell are you doing?”  I ask.

“What?  I’m studying,” Sally says.  She studies her text
intently.  “I have to do some work, just like everybody else.”

“Ok, ok,” I say holding my hands up in mock surrender.  “Do you
wanna grab a bite for dinner since you’re here or get something delivered?”

“Let’s go over to the student union, but give me an hour or so.  I
can’t eat this early.”

“Ok, but I’m meeting Bobby at the library at seven.”

“Don’t tell me you are steppin’ out on Tommy.”  Her eyes pop open as
she waits for my answer.  “I mean I’m not judging…Ha!  Me, judge someone
who plays the field.  I crack myself up sometimes.”  She
giggles.  “But, if you were, I would think this fine ass would be your
first choice.”  Her hand glides up and down her body, with a wink. 
“It’s far less threatening to another man, too.  You know some guys think
it’s hot to date a girl who likes other women.”  She looks me up and down,
heat radiating from her eyes. 

God, she is one sexy beast.

“We’re studying,” I say, waving my finger back and forth.  “None of
that steppin’ out business is going on here.  He asked me for help so I
told him I would help him.”

“Girl, you know his moves put mine to shame, right?   You might
not even see him comin’.”

“I think the minute any part of his body touches mine will be my first
clue.  I got this.”

God knows I have plenty of homework to do.  I still have half of
Brideshead
Revisited
to finish.  It’s a good book so the reading is fast like a
good summer read.  But, I have to finish it by this weekend to get my
paper done for class. 

The tower bell chimes as we cross the courtyard to the student union
ringing the six o’clock hour.  Tonight is taco night, and the spread is
amazing.  Sally giggles and laughs making stupid sophomoric jokes like
“Amber, want some of my taco,” “Amber, can I see your taco,” “Tacos are the
sluts of the food world, everything imaginable gets jammed into them,” and my
favorite:  “If God didn’t want us to eat pussy, he wouldn’t have made it
look like a taco.” By the time we sit down, she has me giggling and
smiling. 

I swear this girl can make a root canal fun.

We sit down to eat, and the TV is blaring with the local news.  My
eyes gravitate to a news report on the TV.  A picture of a woman’s back
with a boot mark on her back flashes on the screen while the news anchor
comments on it.  “Sally, listen.”  I point at the TV.  “The
news.  Karen told me about this story, a waitresses around campus are
getting beaten up.  I think another girl was attacked.  Look.”

Sally and I catch the end of the report as the reporter says, “…another
victim was assaulted outside the Crazy C on the 1500 block of Guadalupe around
three a.m. this morning.  This is the third incident in the area. 
The police are investigating leads on a boot print on the victims’
bodies.”  Sally googles it and looks at the full coverage indicating
another girl was beaten the same boot print on their backs.

“Oh my God.  I think I know that girl.”  Sally’s mouth drops
open as her hand flies to her chest.

“What do you mean?”  My eyes narrow.  “You know another
victim?”

“This is where I was last night.  I was hitting on this cute little
waitress, and I walked her to her car after the club closed.  We stayed
out there and fooled around for about an hour, and she said she had to get up
early the next morning.  I kissed her goodbye, walked to my car, and left
around three.”

“She put her number in my phone.”  She searches her phone and sends
her a text.  “I’ll make sure it wasn’t her.  It probably
wasn’t.  I mean what are the odds?  Right?”  Sally types in a
text. 

Her phone pings, and she looks at the display.  Her eyes open wide
as she says, “It was her.” 

“Sally, is Lily psycho enough to beat someone up?  What am I
saying?” I ask, flinging up my hands.  “Should you call the police or
something?”

“Lily may be a bitch, but she wouldn’t hospitalize someone.” 

“Ok, if you say so.” I say pensively.  “I think that chick is one
card short of a full deck.  Just sayin’.”  I check my watch and say,
“Listen, I need to head over to the library.”  I stand grabbing my book
bag.  “You coming?”

“Nah, I’m going to head back to the room.  I’ll see you when you get
back.  You can tell me how your study session went.  Text me if he
gets too handsy.  I can always zip over and give him a hand.”  She
chuckles.

“You can’t drag your mind out of the gutter can you?”  I sneer at
her, shaking my head.

“
Only
when it comes to you, darlin’,” she says
smiling up at me.  “Only with you.”

***

On my way up to the third floor, I wonder why the hell I agreed to
this. 
Why can’t he ask one of his bros for help?  Because, they
don’t have vaginas, dumbass.  It’s not like we’re friends anyway. 
And, I have Tommy, so why the fuck am I here?  Is this some
fucked-up-Oprah-people-pleaser bullshit?  So some hottie asks me for help
and I fawn and bat my eyelashes at him, grateful to be noticed?  Why the
fuck am I here?

I haven’t heard from Tommy today so I text him:

Heading for a study session with people from my poli-sci
class.

Thinking about you.  Miss you.

I search the floor, and I see Bobby in a private study room.  I feel
guilty for fudging the truth with Tommy. 
Why get him worried out in
the middle of a pasture?  He should trust me anyways.
 
I’ll
help Bobby and leave.
 
Clear conscience.  I need to get my
paper done anyway.  And, I still have a
buttload
of reading to do.

“Hey.”  I enter the small study room and set my book bag down next
to the chair opposite him.  “I don’t have much time, only about an
hour.  I still have to finish reading a four hundred page novel for my
contemp lit class.”

“Whatever help you can give me,
pequena
, would be greatly
appreciated,” he says with a smile.

He hands me his paper, and I note he has chosen the role of the Hispanic
community in the next election.  Good topic.  As I read, I realize he
has some strong political opinions on immigration reform and gun control. 
A man after my own mother’s heart.
  His paper is well thought out
but incredibly one-sided.  The writing is a bit weak, but I edit out the
few mistakes I see in sentence structure and punctuation.

“Regardless of what Professor Warren’s viewpoints are during class, you
have to present a more balanced view.  You obviously have strong feelings
about these issues
- ”

“-why do you say that?  Because I’m Hispanic or because I’m not
white?”  He interrupts, his eyes narrowing.

“No, your feelings are transparent in this paper.” I say
matter-of-factly.  “This is exactly my point.  I can see you coming
from a mile away.  Do you think any politician
- ”

 “– I’m not a politician.”

“It’s obvious that’s what you want.  No one gets this fired up about
issues if they plan to graduate with an accounting degree.”

“Ok, well you got me.”  He smiles raising his hands in defeat.

“My point is you can’t make a speech, or write a paper, where you don’t
at least acknowledge the other side.  You have to present both views and
prove the other one has faulty reasoning.  It’s great that you’re
passionate, but balance that passion with statistics and prove you point. 
Like here,” I point to a section.  “The opposing section should be as many
paragraphs as the advocated position.  Equal number of arguments
presented.  Your view can’t be discussed until your conclusion.”

“But, I do present the opposing position.”  He moves to my side of
the table. “Right here.  It’s in this section here.”  He points to
the section in his paper.

“I understand that,” I say, nudging him toward his chair.

“What?  Do I make you nervous,
pequena
?”  His eyes
twinkle.

“No,” I say.  My tone is a tad too defensive. 
Damn it
. 
“I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.”

“And, what would that be?”  His eyes roam up and down my body as my
heart beats faster.

“That I want to be anything more than friends.”  I harden my
eyes. 
I need to be clear on this.  I don’t need him to get any
ideas.
  “I’m seeing someone.”

“And, yet, you are here with me,
pequena
,” he says, raising an
eyebrow, challenging me.

“Oh, really?  So, now you are Rico Suave?”  I laugh, probably a
little too hard.  “What the fuck is that?  Is that a line from a
crappy movie or something?  Fucker please.”

“Fucker?”  He laughs darkly.  “You have quite a mouth on
you.  Do you talk to your mother with that mouth?”

“Oh, I am much worse with my mother, but hey, thanks for the etiquette
lesson.”  I smile, leaning into his face saying the word emphasizing each
syllable, “Fuck-
er
.”

His hands are behind my head as his lips are on my mouth.  My body
freezes.  His lips are hot and forceful.  He explores my mouth,
demanding access.  The hands on my face are firm but soft.  His
aggression surprises me.  I am stunned.  The realization of what I am
doing and what I am risking hits.  I finally pull away.  Staggering
back, my hand is up and moving across his face.  The sound of the slap
resonates in the tiny room, echoing off the walls.  His shocked face is
red.  Out of anger or embarrassment, I’m not sure.