Searching for Moore (9 page)

Schooner moved to the next photo and wondered if his gasp was audible. Mia had shot a photo of him in a moment when he was not aware the camera was on him. It was an introspective photo as he was reveling in the pristine beauty of nature. He thought that he’d never seen such a perfect photo of himself. It was really him. “Would you mind if I gave this to my mother? I would really like her to have this.”

Mia’s smile was brilliant. “I love that idea,” she clapped her hands.

There was one photo left and when he lifted the portrait off of it, he felt the stab in his chest. It was a photo Mia had shot of their feet. They were facing each other, his hands were on Mia’s shoulders as she pointed the camera down and shot the photo of their sneaker clad feet, toes touching each other. Mia had hand painted the B&W photo, the bottom of her blue jeans, her red and white Converse sneakers, his white sneakers with blue laces and tennis socks with a navy blue border at the ankle.

It was the only picture of Schooner and Mia together that existed.

He stared at the last photo for a while — it wasn’t lost on him that this photo was it, the only thing documenting their relationship. Mia had taken a simple B&W photo, painstakingly hand colored it, and brought to life their sweet, quirky love.

Schooner picked up the envelope and photos and put them on the desk so that they would not get ruined. He sat back down on the bed and took her face in his hands and kissed her roughly. He was overcome by a myriad of emotions. Her unexpected gift had been so personal and touched him very deeply. He didn’t think there was another soul on Earth who got him quite the way she did.

She reached over and started to unbutton his white Ralph Lauren shirt. He just watched her, smiling. A month ago she would have been way too shy to do this to him. When she had it unbuttoned, she pushed it off his shoulders and got up on her knees on the bed and leaned forward, gently kissing his shoulders and working her way to his neck, where she let her teeth graze his skin.

“Oh Baby Girl, the things I want to do to you.”

“Can’t wait,” she whispered in his ear.

He woke her in the morning before he left for the tennis center. He had his packed duffle bag and was holding the oversized envelope of photos and his racquets. He was wearing the black knit cap she had given him. It was pulled down almost to his eyes.

He sat on the edge of the bed, brushed her curls from her face and looked at her intently. He didn’t say anything, just leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

Had he looked closer in the darkened room, he would’ve seen the two plump tears that had escaped the outer corners of her eyes and rolled into the curls he had just brushed off of her face.

But he was already out the door.

He had put it off all day. He’d spent time hanging with Beau, hearing all about his month abroad and the hot Ecuatoriana babes (not that he got any). He’d spent an extra hour on the courts hitting balls. He knew from the Psych class he had taken first semester that this was classic “Escape-Avoidance” behavior. He had something really unpleasant to do, wanted to escape confrontation at all costs and was working himself up to do it, but in the meantime, finding every way he could to avoid it.

He began feeling bad for CJ and he really didn’t want to embarrass her, make her feel like she’d been cheated on while she was away. But that is exactly what happened. He fell in love with someone else and while technically he and Mia had not had sex (he was amazed at his own self-control and that Mia was still a virgin), they were lovers in every other sense of the word.

Schooner wondered how much CJ might have heard already about what his Interim had been like. Her roommate, her dorm mates had all seen him with Mia, Rosalie and Henry every day for a month, so this might not come as a huge shock to her. He’d missed everyone of her phone calls, but one, and was thankful for the poor connection.

“Why does this all have to be so difficult?” He asked himself, “Why can’t I just be with the girl I love?” Schooner’s deep seated fear of disappointing people was raging in full throttle. He just wanted to get it over with and get back to Mia. He was wearing the black knit cap, pulled almost down to his eyes. Taking a little piece of Mia with him would give him strength, he felt.

He walked up the stone steps of the old dorm building and entered the lobby, ignoring everyone that was sitting on the couches. He headed directly to the staircase and bounded up two at a time. “Let’s get this over with,” he thought.

He rapped on her door with his knuckles and heard her turning the knob. CJ stood before him, looking perfect, wearing her pink satin robe. Before he could even utter a greeting, CJ had flung herself against him (her barely tied robe opening), arms around his neck, pulling him down to her lips. He stumbled through the threshold, not wanting this scene to play out in the hallway.

When she peeled herself off of him, she was leading him by his hand toward her bed which was covered with beautifully wrapped gifts and gift bags from Europe’s finest shops. Although European Capitals had been a course offered through the Political Science Department, it appeared CJ had taken it through the Economics Department, supporting of the economies of several European nations.

CJ went into monologue mode and Schooner feared that she knew he was coming to end it with her and was not going to let him speak. He wondered if she was operating under the premise, if he can’t speak, he can’t break up with me.

“I have missed you so much. Everywhere we went all I could think about was sharing the experience with you. Being away from you made me realize how much I love you and never want to be apart from you ever again. Wait until you see all the presents I bought you, you are just going to love the leather racquet covers I got for you in Italy and the silk boxers from France and the blue silk bow tie from England that matches your eyes perfectly …” and she went on and on, not coming up for air.

“CJ,” his voice came out harsher than intended, but he had to get her attention and he had to get her to stop talking, “we need to talk.”

“Oh baby, we will,” she got up off the bed and stood before him allowing her baby pink satin robe to puddle at her ankles.

“CJ, I’m serious,” he stood up, not wanting to be on her bed.

“Schooner, I am too.” One hand was on his crotch, rubbing his cock through his jeans. The other hand was unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. She squeezed his cock. Squeezed it in a way he had taught her how to, because it immediately got him rock hard.

“CJ, please stop.” He wasn’t quite sure what to do. If she was a guy, he would have just shoved her away from him.

“Don’t you like the gifts I bought you, Baby?” Her hands were inside his pants and he was beginning to panic.

“We can’t…” he sputtered, not finishing the sentence because in a heartbeat she had dropped to her knees and deep-throated him.

“CJ, no…” and he put his hands on her head to push her away. She reached around and grabbed him by the ass and pressed him deeper into her mouth. CJ was using the moves he had taught her against him.

He had never in his life not wanted to be somewhere more than he did not want to be in her room with his cock rammed down her throat. And as if a cruel joke of the universe, the guy who could control himself and make the pleasure last until he was ready, came in about 15 seconds flat. He was mortified and distraught that he had just come in her mouth.

CJ pulled away smiling, a dribble of Schooner’s cum at the corner of her pink lips. She slowly cleaned it with a lick from the tip of her tongue.

“By how quickly you came, it’s clear that you missed me, too,” she purred.

Schooner didn’t know how to decipher the onslaught of emotions flooding in and drowning him. Anger (at her or himself?), disgust (definitely at himself), disappointment (overwhelmingly at himself), confusion (how the hell did that just happen) and death of a dream (a lyric from their presentation began to scream through his head, “Is a dream a lie if it don’t come true, or is it something worse?”)
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The walls were closing in and sound was muffled, Schooner felt like he was tumbling down the rabbit hole. He would learn, much later in life, that this was a panic attack.

CJ picked up her robe and eased back into it, letting it hang open.

He looked at her blankly and said, “I’ve got to go.” Practically running from the room. He could not escape fast enough.

As he closed the door, he heard her scream after him, “I hate that hat.”

He made it to the stairwell and leaned his head against the cold stone wall. It felt good against his face. He took a few deep breaths and knew he had to get out of there. He rushed through the lobby, head down, ignoring the multiple greetings from all the girls who knew him as “CJ’s boyfriend.”

He made it outside, the night air a welcome caress to his hot cheeks. He descended the stone stairs, less than a mere ten minutes after having ascended them.

He started to walk. He couldn’t go to Mia’s dorm. He couldn’t go to the claustrophobia of his dorm room, now with Beau in there. “Where to? Where to? I need to think,” he muttered aloud.

He walked over to the track and began to run.

What the fuck did I just let happen? I didn’t break up with her. She fucking sucked my cock and I freaking came in her mouth. What do I tell Mia? She grabbed me and before I knew it my cock was in her mouth and I didn’t want to come, but I did — really fucking fast. I love you, Baby Girl and I was just in someone else’s mouth, but I didn’t fuck her (great consolation).

Holy crap, I can’t go to Mia’s room now. How can I tell her the truth? And if I did, she would probably throw me out. She’s going to hate me. Fuck, I hate me. Could I disappoint more people? Could I be a bigger fucking disappointment? How the hell did I fuck this up so royally? What the fuck am I going to do? How do I make this better? How do I fix this? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Over an hour later, Schooner stepped off the track. He had no answers. He couldn’t go to Mia tonight and tell her what had happened. He couldn’t bear to see the hurt, the disappointment. But if he no showed her tonight, she’d think they were over, that he’d gone back to CJ. And although they probably were over, because of what he had let happen, he couldn’t even consider being back with CJ.

He finally went back to his dorm and thankfully a jetlagged Beau was crashed out. Schooner went to his desk and took out the oversized envelope out of the drawer. He pulled out the picture Mia had shot of their feet and just stared at it.

“I am so sorry, Baby Girl,” he whispered to the picture, “I love you so much and I know I don’t deserve you. I don’t know how to fix this.” He slid the picture back into its envelope and placed it back in the desk drawer.

He laid in bed staring at the darkened ceiling for what felt like hours, knowing that he had just ruined everything. He ached realizing the pain it was going to cause Mia. He ached knowing that five minutes of his life had robbed him of everything he ever wanted and dreamed of. Laying on top of his blankets, fully clothed, he pulled his black cap over his eyes and asked himself the question, “Is a dream a lie if it don’t come true, or is it something worse?”
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 How ironic, he thought as he finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep, even he was now quoting Springsteen and he’d never know if Rick or Wendy won the bet.

Schooner went into a deep funk. He avoided everyone and everything, with the exception of the tennis courts. He’d never experienced anything like it before. Getting out of bed every day took everything he had, his concentration was shit, he had to force food down his throat to keep his strength up to make it through tennis practice.

Every night after he finished his reading and homework assignments, he went to the track and ran. Running was the only time he could get into his head and process his misery. Running helped ease the pain which felt like it was oozing out of him in waves.

His weight was dropping and his boyish face becoming more angular. His black cap (a new permanent feature, except on the courts where it was against regulations) pulled down to his eyes became a part of his dark, haunted look. Now, instead of looking like a gorgeous All-American boy, he had the look of a handsome bad boy model.

He knew Mia’s class schedule and made sure he avoided all the routes he knew she would be on. He avoided the dining hall when he thought that either she or CJ might be there. When he wasn’t in class, he was on the courts or in his room studying.

His first travel weekend came and he was glad to get off campus and away from everything that added to his misery and everything added to his misery — he couldn’t look anywhere on campus without something reminding him of their time together. He loathed himself for destroying the best thing he’d ever had and for hurting the only girl he’d ever loved.

On Valentine’s Day, CJ showed up at his dorm room. Beau happily let her in, she flirted with him a little and then he quickly cleared the room to give Schooner and CJ some privacy.

She handed Schooner a package wrapped in red. “I don’t have anything for you,” he said.