27⎜The Label

I stared at my computer screen, my eyes about ready to pop out of their sockets, presuming that it was scientifically possible. All I had typed down were a few words that had popped up and were actually about the subject itself—that being an intro to sociology. Currently, the professor was answering a series of technical questions that couldn’t just be answered simply, but rather had to be attached to the phrase, “Well, that reminds me of that time that I…” The question being extrapolated upon right now had led into a story about the Amazon Rainforest somehow, and it was definitely safe to say that I was VERY confused.

           Suddenly, a sound from the back of the room caused me to snap my head back. Most in the seminar couldn’t care less about the opening and closing of a door, but right now, I was bored enough to find just about anything interesting. With the clank of the door came an impassive girl with a determinedness about her that made me unable to look away. She was gorgeous, and on a mission. Our eyes connected. I smiled. She continued staring at me, her speed picking up slightly.

           When she reached the practically empty row of seats in which I was sitting, she plopped right down next to me, and without a word, drew her finger along the edge of my lips. As she went about casually tracing the contour of my mouth, I attempted to not be affected. I tried to listen to the professor. I really did. Alas, her touch left a tingling sensation that wouldn’t go away by merely ignoring it. Something had snapped within me, and I was so done listening to some lady drone on and on about her experience of interacting with monkeys and spiders in the middle of South America.

           I closed my laptop as quickly as possible, and stuffed it inside my backpack, all the while having my lips outlined. There were only about five or so minutes left in the class. I wouldn’t be missing anything. Standing up, I grabbed the hand of the girl, and began to drag her down the aisle that separated one section of seats from the other. We were headed towards the door, and she was more than willing to leave the seminar early.

           When we reached the exit that also served as an entrance, we couldn’t get out fast enough. The second we were out, I was pushed against a wall adjacent to where my class was still being held, and the tracing of a finger was replaced by the warmth of two lips. They didn’t taste like anything. Mackenzie used to always try out different kinds of lip-glosses, and would wear a different flavor essentially every day. Liz wore Chap Stick, and occasionally some lipstick. Ari didn’t having anything on. When I kissed her, there wasn’t a filter of even the faintest to separate me from her lips. They were real, raw, and ready. And I couldn’t get enough.

           She ran a hand through my hair, and I clamped mine down around her waist. I was pressed up against the wall. She was leaning on me. Her other hand was attached to the side of my face. There wasn’t much distance between us, but even the minimal amount was too much. In my past relationships, PDA had never really been a big issue, but with Ari, it wasn’t even a topic of which needed to be thought. Ari was evidently VERY okay with publically displaying affection, as she was now doing with me. Right outside the room in which I was supposed to be learning sociology. But learning Ari was so much better. Sociology couldn’t even come close to comparing.

           “I told you they were hooking up!” someone cried, causing me to pause. Ari kept going, though, not being fazed even slightly.

           “Would’ya look at that!” another individual exclaimed. “Wow. Nice goin’, Wilson!”

           “Get it in!”

           “Scott, shut up,” Ari snapped, momentarily disconnecting her face from mine. Then it was right back on, forcing me to give up my power of speech. But for this girl, it was worth it.

           “Just like you just did to Eric?” Scott questioned smugly.

           Ari didn’t respond. She just ignored him, and continued to kiss me, trying to coerce me into kissing back, but I couldn’t. So I pulled away.

           I had no issue with PDA when it came to random strangers, but when it involved people who I actually knew, well…that was a different story. It felt weird having someone you knew and who knew you watching you undertake in such an intimate act. That was one of the reasons I had never been the biggest fan of games like Spin the Bottle and crap. Kisses weren’t meant to be shared with friends. They were meant to be shared with a special someone else, and only that special someone else.

           “You two ruin almost everything,” Ari mumbled, directing her words at Houston and Scott.

           “So, how long have y’all been screwin’?” Houston inquired with more glee than he should have possessed. It was similar to the reaction Scott had given when he found out that Ari and I were, uh, hooking up. Maybe the two just had an unhealthy fetish for watching people kiss. Or maybe just for watching Ari and me kiss. Whatever. It was weird.

           “Kissing,” Ari corrected, “just kissing.”

           “Sure,” Scott smirked, stretching out the U as long as the vowel would allow.

           “How long?” Houston repeated.

           Scott took the liberty of answering for the both of us: “Since Thanksgiving.”

           “The day before Thanksgiving, actually, jerkhead,” Ari amended his wrongful accusation by about twenty-four hours.

           “Is she good?” Houston asked, talking solely to me. I nodded, not trusting my voice as Ari ran a light finger along the center of my stomach, from my navel to my pectorals. She was tracing the area that separated one section of abs from the other. All I could do was suck in a breath and not focus on how short her shorts were, and how long her legs were in them.

           “Good? Ira is the best! She’s number one! Right, Eric?” It was Scott’s turn to address me. Yet again, all I had the ability to do was move my head up and down.

           “Kay is not gonna believe this!” Houston laughed. Scott’s face lit up. It wasn’t a good sign.

           “We have to show her!” Scott concluded.

           Houston scrunched his eyebrows together. “How?”

           “Ira, Eric, we’re going on a fieldtrip!”

           What happened next was really all a blur in my mind. Scott grabbed Ari’s hand. Houston swung his arm over my shoulder. We were both whisked away from where my seminar had been, and I wasn’t really sure where were going. My brain was in a haze of thoughts, and my feet were on autopilot. Everything was unclear, yet at the same time completely and utterly vivid.

           We had gotten back to the Stanford campus about a week ago. During the remaining few days that had been spent at Eli’s condo, Ari and I managed to “connect” pretty much at any chance we got. We couldn’t keep our mouths to ourselves, and we didn’t want to. I needed to kiss Ari, and she needed to kiss me. The pull was stronger than a magnet. On the ride home, we had to pull over on the side of the road (with Scott in the backseat) just so we could make out. I was totally fine with it, and it appeared as though Ari was fine, too. Well, way fine.

           When we got back to Stanford, the only thing that changed was the obstacle of our relatively busy schedules. At any chance we got, though, one of us would somehow find the other and spontaneously latch our mouths together. It was nice kissing again. Actually, no. It was nice kissing Ari. This wasn’t kissing again. It was different. It was with Ari. It was better. We hadn’t talked about labels or anything else, for that matter. All we were doing was having fun and trying to figure out how far we could go without crossing a line (so far, all we had done was kissed—but it felt like so much more).

           And somehow we had ended up here. Standing before a dorm room that housed two people with whom I had connections. I had a hunch why we were here, but I wasn’t entirely sure. Scott knocked on the door. Loudly. Yelling could be heard, in addition to movement, and then door swung open to a fiery redhead who was currently in a defined relationship with my roommate. Her wild eyes searched us, and then sighed, moving away from the door to let us in.

           The four of us crowded the small room, only to find that three individuals had already begun the nonexistent party. One particular blonde girl was perched on her bed, a bottle of pink in one hand and a small brush-like object in the other. Her nails were the same shade as the bottle, and jutted out awkwardly as she held the two items. Sitting on the other bed was my roommate, headphones in with his head bobbing up and down. It wasn’t an abnormal sight. Seth was always “jamming” out to music in the most dramatic of ways. His girlfriend stood by the entrance, still observing us.

           When the blonde noticed that she had more guests, her entire face illuminated, but she didn’t move from her spot. She continued to daintily spread out her fingers while trying to maintain her solid grip. Seth offered up a small wave and a head nod to me, and I returned it with mirroring gestures. His girlfriend was the first to speak up in her, uh, outgoing manner as she had a tendency to do.

           “So, like, why the hell are you guys here?” Noa questioned, cutting all the courtesy and crap.

           “Because Ari and Eric have something to announce!” Scott blurted out, regarding our kissing with more importance than it required.

           “Y’all eloped! Ari, that is just wonderful! I wanted to be there at your weddin’, though! I was s’posed to be the maid of honor! I didn’t even get you a gift!” Kay exclaimed. She placed the brush into the bottle, and then twisted it so that it shut and acted like a cap. Then, with her free hands, she immediately began her exaggerated gesticulations that added a superfluous amount of emphasis to her words.

           “Uh, they didn’t elope, sweetheart,” Houston shot down the first radical notion that surfaced in his girlfriend’s mind.

           “Then what’d they do? Get engaged?” Kay scoffed, turning it down a few notches. Alas, she was still far away from the ballpark in which Ari and I’s apparent “announcement” was playing.

           “They’re hooking up!” Scott shouted excitedly, causing even Seth to pause his strange movements and look up. The entire room stood still (well, really the people in it, but personification was helpful in this particular incident when it came to adding description). All eyes were aimed towards Ari and me, and I wanted to disappear.

           Concentrated attention. I used to live for the stuff. Everything I did was “perfect,” I had “no” faults, so the attention I received was all positive and glorified. Everyone was always putting me in a place of extreme levels of attention because I was the quarterback. Because I had a gorgeous face. Because my body was godlike. Because I was nice. Because I was charismatic. Because I was smart. Because I was Eric Wilson.

           Now, though, I didn’t want attention. I wanted to be just Eric, and have the spotlight be shifted elsewhere. My exterior couldn’t be changed, but that wasn’t to say that my interior hadn’t. I used to possess this idiotic mentality that the universe literally revolved around me. It was an archaic thought, but I was just so self-centered that I couldn’t think past it. When I walked into a room, every head would turn. When I was roaming the halls, people would clear away for me. Even when I was in the school parking lot, everyone knew not to park in my spot. I was Eric Wilson, quarterback and all around idiot.

           “Two pretty people…kissing? What a scandal!” Noa cried with a gasp of sarcasm.

           “Nice, Eric!” Seth condemned me, winking at Ari. She ignored him, just as she did the rest of the time.

           “I don’t believe it,” Kay declared defiantly.

           “You don’t believe it?” Scott scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “What do you want them to do? Prove it?”

           “Yeah!” Noa encouraged with an eager nod. Scott looked over to Kay. She merely shrugged. He then looked over to Ari, and then to me. Ari was impassive. All I could do was look away and gulp. I then averted my eyes to those darks ones of Ari. Her detached façade cracked as she offered up a small smirk, and I just shook my head.

           Then, because no one else was initiating any form of audible conversation, I decided to speak: “Uh, I don’t really feel comfortable doing what you’re impl—” Before I even had the chance to fully voice my qualms, two lips silenced me, and I momentarily lost my train of thought due to how persuasive the mouth of my attacker was. I kissed along, my brain a blur. Then, the other individual pulled away all too quickly. I wanted more. I needed more.

           “We’re hooking up, Kay,” Ari explained the basis behind her actions. Her face was pure and simple, and her words unadorned as they always were.

           I was always intrigued by the way that Ari spoke. It wasn’t just the rain in it, but rather the language she used. She wasn’t one to brag about her exquisite vocabulary, and she kept all of her sentences plain without sounding unintelligent. With me, if I used all the big words that I knew, people would think that I was trying too hard. If I used typical words, though, I would be regarded as the meathead that I wasn’t. My issue was merely that I cared too much about how other perceived me. It had always been a challenge of mine. Ari didn’t have that problem. Well, on the outside she didn’t appear to, at least.

           Kay took about a nanosecond to review Ari’s words, and then her face lit up with more joy than I thought one was capable of ascertaining. If I had thought that Houston and Scott’s responses were weird when they found out that Ari and I had, um, ya’know, then Kay’s reaction was probably just visiting momentarily from an entirely different galaxy than our own. She jumped off of her bed, an ecstatic grin controlling her face as she waved her arms in the air and began to scream: “FINALLY!”

           “Babe, your nails are wet. Calm down,” Houston instructed. She ignored him, continuing to display the epitome of glee, and not the crappy TV show kind about singing and acceptance.

           “Scotty, we need to start thinkin’ of couple names!” Kay yelled, and then let out another shriek.

           “I already have a list!” Scott replied back, not able to match her excitement, though coming close. “What do you think of Eri Wilmon?” Kay shook her head fervently. “Aric Remson?”

           “Ooh! I like Aric! Or Eri! Just not the last names!” Kay babbled on. Neither Ari nor I stopped either one of them in order to point out one miniscule detail: we weren’t officially a couple…yet.

           When I first started dating Mackenzie, it all began with a kiss. A stupid, stupid, idiotic kiss. I was supposed to be hanging out with her brother, Dylan (my best friend at the time). I got to their house, and he wasn’t there. Mackenzie was. It was just the two of us alone in the house. No parents were home. Mackenzie was a year older than me, and I had always had a dumb crush on her. She was hot, and knew it. I also knew it. I was hot, and knew it. She also knew it. One thing led to another, and we somehow ended up kissing. Dylan got home; we stopped, and pretended like it had never happened.

           The next time I saw Mackenzie, she asked me to be her boyfriend. Obviously, I wasn’t the dominant one in that relationship. I agreed, we didn’t tell Dylan for a while, and when we did, he hated me. Because I was Eric Wilson comma quarterback, I managed to spin the situation in a way that I put all the blame on Dylan. The details were a little foggy. I blocked out most of those memories. Basically, everyone didn’t talk to Dylan because we were best friends, then we weren’t, and everyone took my side because, again, I was Eric Wilson.

           I dated Mackenzie for a while, and it was a tough relationship. Mackenzie was a demanding girl, and everything had to go her way. She was loud, abrasive, bitchy, and a year older than me. I liked her more than she liked me, so when she broke up with me, I took it rougher than I should have. Mackenzie Collins wasn’t worth my time, and I should have never gone out with her in the first place. I lost my best friend because of it.

           My second relationship was with Liz. She was gorgeous, smart, funny, new, and had amazing muscles. Since Mackenzie, I hadn’t really looked at girls. Then when Liz moved to the neighborhood, well, something changed. I wasn’t sure why, but I wanted to chase after her. She was a mystery, and I couldn’t leave her be.

           We started hooking up. A lot. I didn’t want my heart to be metaphorically ripped out of my chest again (like with Mackenzie). We went on a few dates. She was just a pretty girl with a past I didn’t know about. We kissed a lot, and then I finally asked her to be my girlfriend. She wasn’t blind, so obviously accepted (with a face like mine, who wouldn’t?). We dated. I found out she cheated on me with Dylan. She found out that I liked smoking pot more than I liked her. The breakup should’ve been harder than it was, but it wasn’t. I wasn’t in love with Elizabeth Turner, or the version of herself she had pretended to be for the duration of our relationship.

           With Ari, I didn’t know what was going to happen. Were we going to have a purely physical relationship, or would emotions get involved? Would we put off labels for as long as possible, or would we embrace them? Was I just another hookup to Ari Remon, or was I more? It was all so unclear, because those weren’t the things we were asking each other. Actually, we hadn’t really been asking each other a lot, recently. All we were doing was having fun and trying to make better pasts by utilizing the present and future that had been generously allotted to us.

           Then, Ari spoke, causing me to shift my focus from my thoughts to the real world. “Or we could just be Eric and Ari,” Ari suggested with a purity about her words that seemed almost fake.

           “Or even Ari and Eric,” I proposed, switching the order that our names verbally appeared.

           “Well, I don’t really care, because I think that it’s just wonderful that y’all finally realized how amazingly perfect y’all’s babies would be!” Kay Rodgers giggled with a wild smile. She was being serious. “I call dibs on being the godmother!”

           “Kay,” Houston Walker began with a sigh, “please turn it down a few notches. You’re scarin’ everyone.”

           The two established lovers began to quarrel about Kay’s current intensity level, while Noa and Seth had gone back to not caring about anyone but each other. Scott was texting, and it appeared as though the attention had momentarily shifted off of us, which was definitely a good thing. Ari took the opportunity to encompass her hand within my own, and then stealthily lead me over to the exit. Our departure wasn’t unnoticed, but it was accepted.

           Ari mutely closed the door once we were finally out, and walked a few paces away from her best friend’s dorm room. Then, she began to stare at me. If Ari were a superhero, then her power undoubtedly would be mindreading. I felt like she could practically read minds now, so it was an obvious progression for her to do so while in a cape and attempting to fight crime. Whenever she looked at me, it was as if she knew exactly what was going on in my head. I would be Superman if I were a superhero. Obviously.

           “We should go on a date,” Ari determined in a resolute manner.

           “We should,” I agreed with a nod. “When?”

           “This weekend.”

           “Where?”

           “Anywhere.”

           “As what?”

           “Us.” Us. I memorized the pronoun in my mind, and began to replay it over and over and over and over again. It fit. We weren’t Eric and Ari. We weren’t Ari and Eric. We weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, nor were we girlfriend and boyfriend. We were just us, whatever exactly that meant.

           “Okay,” I said, not bothering to hold back my grin as I continued to ruminate over the label, “let’s.”