Page 42 of Emily: Hello Kitten
I tell myself that again and again until I’ve had four screwdrivers and am in the arms of a guy whose name doesn’t matter as Adrian’s name won’t leave my mind. Even when I stumble away from a guy who keeps offering to take me to bed instead of to Beth.
When I get outside, I stare at the stars and smile to myself. They’re so pretty. I take my phone out and scroll. Beth and Danielle’s numbers jump out, but I don’t want to cuddle them. I don’t want to kiss them.
I findhisnumber and call. His voice will be enough.
“Emily?” Adrian answers.
“Why do you have to be a professor?” I demand.
“Are you drunk?”
“I hate you. I hate that you’re my professor. I hate that I can’t stop thinking about you. Why do you have to be you?” I demand.
“Where are you, Kitten?”
Fuck, why am I calling him? Why am I making this harder than I should?
“If I tell you, you’ll come get me, and that’s not allowed. You’re not allowed to touch… I love when you touch,” I moan.
“You’re drunk. I’m going to come get you,” he decides.
“You don’t know where I am. And I’m going home,” I decide with plenty of confidence before I stumble in my heels and fall. I laugh despite the cut on my knee. “I hate you, Adrian.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I have to,” I whisper.
twenty
Itext Beth that I’m heading home and get a winky face in reply. I don’t have the heart to tell her that I’m going home alone because the one man I want is the one man I can’t have. The one man I’ll actually destroy.
As I walk, I think about the last few college years I’ve had. My parents have heard about fewer than a third of my flings. Not all of them have gotten to sex. I might not be a prude, but I’m not easy. I require a connection, chemistry, that ‘need’ that makes sex hotter. I’m not perfect, though. I’ve been caught in drama when a guy told me he was single but had a girlfriend on the side. I’ve been liberal with kisses when drunk.
But I’ve neverruinedanyone. Maybe some heartache, but that’s it.
No lasting consequences.
If I slip up with Adrian, all we’ll be able to face are consequences. So, I can’t let him come get me. Even though my phone keeps dinging.
Where the fuck are you, Emily?
I’m driving, looking for you.
Answer your phone!
Why are you scaring me like this?
The last message breaks my heart. I drag myself to a short wall and sit on it, watching the blood roll over my knee and to my shin. I play with my phone, then call him. I can tell he’s pissed when he speaks.
“Where are you?”
“I told you not to come,” I whisper as my eyes sting.
“You are a drunk woman walking around at night alone,” he snarls. “I’m not going to ignore that.”
I look around, noting how few cars and people are walking around. The small groups of people are drunk girls, giggling and laughing, but I see a few guys milling around. I think they’re guys.
“I’m halfway to the dorms… I think.” I squint into the distance. “Yeah. I take a turn at that light… campus isn’t that big. There are safety lights, it’s—”
