The lovely, masculine smell of his cologne was staggering to me. Hair gelled and combed neatly back, exposing the a strong, trimmed jaw and pretty green eyes, adorned by long lashes. I was one for attempting to avoid any male gaze or interaction, but my mother's lawyer was grinning a dimpled, friendly, and handsome smile at us. He was watching his assistant pour us more coffee, though I mumble a sweet, soft and meek refusal in return.

The shadow across his jaw and upper lip increase the noticeable aging. I predicted he was maybe in his early thirties. While his soft, pink, and dewy lips move in slowed speed in my head while he explains some basics to my mother, I watch him...breathing deeply.

My eyes wander down his neck. Unshaven, lightly tanned skin from the sun, Adam's apple bobbing with the deep, sexy baritone of his voice. I inhale deeply and shove my hands between my crossed legs, observing his strong, expansive and ringed hands as they glide a piece of paper towards my mother. I see the decorative jewelry, but not the kind of ring that would discourage my flustering, hot feelings.

"I feel there's not much of a discussion for this," he insists to my mother — her lips are sealed and her cold, bright eyes are gazing at the lawyer in front of us with a nodding head, acknowledging the man's concerns and statements. Her chin raises slightly, fake pearl earrings visible at her ears. Straightened brown hair brushed back into a struggling pony tail. The tacky white sweater beneath her old jacket struggling to compliment whatever "fancy" facade she's attempting to mirror. I glance back and forth between the two adults.

My nineteen years of life have been nothing but quite disappointing. Studies and church, sports and clubs. College is just the same, if not worse, as I am forced, through my psychological routine, to avoid socializing with my peers. Especially my male counterparts. And as I stare at the attractive lawyer in front of me, speaking to my mother with a charming smile, I grimace so subtly and faintly at the overwhelming fact, my eyebrows furrowing at the micro level. Never have I ever sought an adventure. But oh, may the Lord forgive me for the one I'm imagining now.

Green eyes lock with my own, his cheerful and glistening. Mine widened with an innocent, oblivious exterior. I hadn't noticed at all that my mother had gotten up to use the restroom, leaving me with the lawyer, who's name I have yet to pay attention to. Lowering my head and staring at my clasped palms on my lap now, I resist looking at him in the face.

"So you go to a university?" He tries to make conversation with me, exposing a set of white teeth, grinning at me in such a boyish way it was hard not to deviate from the reality of his profession. Charm — that was it.

My clammy hands rub against the fabric of my long skirt, which was such an ugly, tan muted color. Suddenly my brown turtle neck suffocates me, itching my neck and assisting the red hues tinting my cheeks. His eyes wander across my shying face, lowering his head to see if he could get me to talk, goofy grin painted on his kissable lips. "You don't want to talk, got it," he gently nods, leaning into his chair and folding a leg over his lap, shuffling papers in his ring clad hands.

I part my lips, but he doesn't see my attempt to voice anything out because he's busied with circling and scribbling on his papers with a ball-point pen worth more than my entire outfit. At least he's not offended by my inability to properly respond.

"Sit up, Athena," I hear my mother's scolding, and abruptly, I do as she says. Our lawyer glances up from his lowered head, observing the way I blink and my meekness in response to my mother's demands. She takes the seat next to me again, shoving her falsified designer purse into the side of her chair before placing her hands over the surface of the polished, mahogany of the table.

"So, Harry..." my mother speaks in the direction of the lawyer, but she reaches her two hands over to button up my sweater. My cheeks flush so brightly, the deep tan of my skin not concealing the pinking tone. I avert my eyes from Harry, who's name I now know, from the embarrassment. His green eyes watch my mother speak, though I know he ignores the way she conceals my fitted turtle neck with the baggy knitted sweater. Maybe he hadn't figured why, but I knew my mother, and I knew she didn't approve the way my shirt exposed the noticeable round shape of my large breasts. She fixed the golden cross pendant, tapping the jewelry promptly before reaching away, clasping her hands on her lap, sitting up readily to listen to Harry's explanation.

Harry's pretty eyes remain between the paper and my mother. "Yes, correct. But I've rather focus on your portion of the fifty. With most divorce cases..."

Again, their conversation blurs to me. I shift slightly, uncomfortably hot now in this double layer. The dark, forest green knitted sweater encloses me and suffocates me further. I look down at my clammy palms, picking at my plain, unpainted fingernails and twisting the ring my mother gave me my eighteenth birthday around on my left middle finger. When I look up, my mother is signing her name for whatever reason I hadn't paid attention to. My eyes wander towards our lawyer, who rubs a hand against his prickly jaw, his sight falling onto me, catching me.

Pathetically, I blush again, quickly averting my eyes from his intense pale ones. My hair flows to my cheeks, the dark strands that fall from the long braid down my neck curling. He doesn't react to my painfully obvious staring and simply turns to his own paperwork, ushering more pages towards my busied mother.

"Athena," her voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I snap my head up to look over at her. She's feverishly scribbling her initials to highlighted lines, not bothering to look at me as she questions, "What is wrong with you? I asked you a question."

I inhale sharply, mouth parting as I hesitate to answer. Clearly, my mind is elsewhere. I hadn't noticed she spoke to me in the first place. "Oh..." I mumble softly, tucking my chin down and apologetically frowning. "Sorry."

"She's not usually like this," my mother kindly defends my behavior that is lacking in both courtesy and responsiveness. She glances over at me before looking to Harry, who kindly, half-heartedly smiles, avoiding imposing any of his own thoughts onto the statement. Backing away from the papers as Harry reaches for them, pen still in her hand, my mother gushes, "She's a 4.0 student. Double majoring in law and physics!"

I inwardly cringe, favoring an instance where I can politely excuse myself for the rest of the conversation. My major was my choice, something I had control over, which is why I have taken it so seriously beyond my mother's legal obligations over me. I not the charismatic type, and law seems to be the type of field many of those people tend to choose. However, I like reading things and looking for any loopholes and clues. It's a puzzle, which is why I enjoy it.

But this conversation was embarrassing to me, as I felt patronized and disenfranchised of my capability to hold down a conversation, to proudly express my own achievements. I wasn't a child, but I do not blame my mother for treating me as such, since I tend to retreat into my cocoon of isolation and solitude very often.

Harry raises an eyebrow. "Really? Our law firm is announcing an internship program," he openly states, setting his pen down and now fully engrossed into my mother's boasting. My eyes widen slightly, warm brown and green irises jarring into my mother's side profile, an overexcited gasp passing her plain lips. Harry folds his hands onto the table, thumbs pressed against each other and eyes following my mother's as they both look to me. My mother is expectant, urging me to take the opportunity with her icy eyes.

I immediately deplete the desires and attraction to this man, and my mouth parts, finally, softly breathing out, "Oh, that seems interesting...I-I've been looking for something t-to do in between my classes."

Harry's smile remains kind, and my mother seems content with my response. He holds my eye contact, and I have to look away. His smoldering stare is unintentional, but in its attempt to remain hospitable and sweet, he's still sexy and painfully handsome. I stare at the deep wooden surface of the table, struggling to maintain like I have sense. Like I'm not thinking of him pumping in and out of me over this surface right here. God, he's amazingly good looking. The hear flushes against my neck and I swallow, inhaling deeply.

"I'll put in a good word for you," he nods, and I turn quickly to glance at my mother, who happily listens to our lawyer explain the program. "It's not a paid internship, but surely we would love to give young, smart and talented students a chance to experience the way the court system works. Whether it be civil or criminal."

Looking at him through my eyes, head lowered, I surprise my intent on conversation. "Well, you sort of have to or you miss out on recruitment. I️t's been proven by nearly every scientific data compiled particularly for this —" I tried whispering, but my mother's hand clasps around my forearm, and she implies for me to stop talking because I am surely being awkward. Harry's too busy gathering signed and notarized papers now into a folder to care about what I had been saying as well.

"She'd love to do this. How do we get this started?"

"I'll grab you an application before you go," he keeps it brief and simple, and my mother nods slowly, content and at peace with what he can do for her — or me. My mouth dries with anxiety when he blinks his eyes towards me then, grinning with a visible dimple on his left cheek, deeply saying, "I'd love for you to work with us. And see what you can do. Who knows, maybe in a few years, you'll be doing my job."

"Thank you so much, Harry," my mother quickly interjects, smiling widely. "She's sweet, much more chatty around kids, but she is a smart girl. Just needs a little push," she giggles and gushes irritability, boasting about me, but it only makes me uncomfortable. I manage a sour smile, pained and bitter, but it passes, and I nod when Harry looks to me for approval.

"Okay...well, that's that then? I'll be sure to go over your case over the weekend," he reassures my mother, who is as usual attentive and hanging at his every word. I do not blame her, he is clearly an unbearably good looking man. My cheeks flush and I begin to sweat beneath the layers of clothes I have on just as he stands to his feet and looks to me. "I'll speak with the others, definitely put in a good word. Is that okay, love?"

I nearly fumble the simple respond, hugging my body with my own arms, cowering behind the collar of my knitted sweater. Love, he called me love. Would he call me that if I spread my legs for him, and let him give it to me? I bet his office is messy, he'd wipe all the mess away before fucking me on it on like that pornographic movie that plays late at night...Oh, lord, please forgive me. My mother clears her throat and I softly breathe, "Oh...yes. That...that would be fine."

Harry folds his leather binder in his large, strong...alluring...hands. He stands straight and sends us both a kind smile, accepting my response and speaking solely to my mother. I follow behind them, watching his tall, lean figure clad in that jet black suit. I bite into the inside of my cheek, heart beating a little faster than normally. He is so much taller than me, strong...lean. He'd last so long and he could toss me around. Shaking my head, I sigh and blink away the ideas. The sexual frustration bubbling at the pit of my stomach urges my thoughts to wander. He walks us out, handing me an application that I gingerly take from him.

"Have a good evening, ladies. I hope to see you around, Athena, yes?"

I nod quickly, my mother grabbing my forearm to tug me out of the door.

. . .

I stare at the application on my desk. My physics homework lies on my desk beside it, and I sit in front of it with my legs crossed Indian style. Chewing on my bottom lip, tugging at my white, flowery night gown that reaches my ankles, I exhale out from my nose. Written on a blueprint is my physics homework, a project I've been working on for weeks almost coming to a conclusion. I didn't know if I wanted to take this internship. My mind is elsewhere, thinking about our lawyer.

He's defending my mother in the divorce, which I find agitating because my mother is not exactly the most hospital, kind person deserving of nothing better than a fraction of money, not the entire house which my father built from scratch. My father and I have a solid relationship, much because we share a passion for physics and on occasion, politics. We're a very emotionally distant family, and I expect us to be that way through this divorce. Right now my mother lives closest to campus, where I'm not allowed to board a room because it wasn't exactly ideal for us financially. I do not mind, but it would be nice to have such an experience.

I huff to myself when my thoughts drift back to our lawyer. He was a man, a whole man, with a broad, tall and strong figure. Boyish good looks were rugged and aged smoothly on his sexy face. My eyes squint at the physics assignment. I have spent my entire life doing nothing wild...experiencing life by very limited freedoms and very constricting regulations. Ones that were never truly that mandatory. I was a prude virgin, sinking deeper into inexperience every time I deny myself the chance to have pleasure. And I wanted it now, more than ever.

"I'm an idiot, what am I thinking?" I speak to myself. Standing to my feet, I walk over to my mirror. In front of it I see my reflection, my hooded green eyes watching my lifeless, deep bronze skin and my unruly, brown curly, frizzy hair. I pull up my disgustingly ugly night gown, bunching it above my bare breasts, exposing my white, plain underwear. I stare at my bare body, trying to find something nice in the mist of all my insecurities. Large breasts, light brown, rounded nipples. I tilt my head and sigh. They were nice to look at...I suppose. Nipped waist and chubby small belly. My hips were wide, short legs thick. If only I were a few inches taller...

"I'm sexy..." I mutter to myself, nodding my head, trying to convince myself. "I'm amazing. Smart and a manipulative bitch."

A knock at my door startles me and I let my night gown fall from my chest down my legs, covering me completely. "Yeah?!" I call out.

My mother's voice airs out from the other side. "Have you filled out the application for the internship?"

"No...not yet." I stare at the pale blue of my bedroom wall.

I hear her scolding breath. "Do it, Athena. You need to stop turning down opportunities like this! And you heard Harry! He said he'd put in a good word! You'll get in, especially with your credentials!"

Sighing, I respond, "Okay mom!"

I walk towards my desk again, moving away the blueprint to start on the application. Plotting down on my desk chair, I stare at the application file. My mother's footsteps disappear as she takes my answer as a good sign.

Age? University? Graduation year? Majors? Hobbies? Your theme song? 19. Georgetown University. 2021. Pre-law and physics. Reading, following politics, learning to read hieroglyphics. Stayin Alive by the Bee Gees. I rub my temples and scribble more of my pointless answers.

N. Im bored and procrastinating and this idea is so hot to me, so here ya go.

this is a short story of 15 parts so it'll move at a reasonably quick pace.