Mr. January: A Forbidden Romance

“You thought I was in high school?” she sputters with mirth.

“Well, yeah,” I let out another embarrassed laugh. “You just looked so young that I thought—”

“No no, you were wrong!” she says, shaking her head and sticking her tongue out at me. “Even back when we first met, I was already in college. Well—sort of. I guess you caught me in that in-between phase. I mean, it was summer so I’d already graduated from high school, but I was already enrolled at Cedar Toms CC. So yes, I counted myself as a college student, even back then.”

“Great,” I say fervently. “I count you as a college student too, for my own sanity if nothing else because shit, if word got out I was dating a high school girl …”

“You’d be the laughingstock of town!” Sam finishes for me mirthfully.

I shake my head.

“Not just that, but I’d officially be a dirty old man. College is much better, and much more socially acceptable.” But then I grin. “So, how are you liking it so far? College, I mean.”

The pretty brunette sucks in a deep breath before letting it out again and sending me a small smile. “It’s alright. I mean, I guess I just feel a little lost. Everyone else seems so focused and determined all the time, and they all have goals that they want to achieve. Meanwhile, I’m floating around, enrolled in an assortment of classes that seem to be taking me…well, absolutely nowhere, to be honest. But how do I structure it better? I mean, without a major, all my classes just seem so random.”

I tilt my head curiously. “You don’t have a major?”

She sighs and shakes her head as her pretty lips poke out in a small pout. “No because they don’t make you declare until you’re a junior, so I’m still looking around. It seems like a momentous decision, like something that’s going to shape the rest of my life, so I don’t want to screw it up.”

I nod.

“I can see how it would appear that way,” I say.

Sam sighs and nods again.

“Yeah, right? So I don’t want to major in the wrong thing because it seems like my life will be ruined if I do. But it also means that without a focus, I’m taking such random classes that I’m getting absolutely nowhere, and wasting a lot of time and money in the process. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place, I guess you could say,” she admits with a rueful smile. “It’s a no-win situation.”

I grin.

“I’m sure it’s not so bad. Lots of kids must be going through what you are.”

She shakes her head quickly, brown curls bobbling.

“Well, it doesn’t feel like it. Everyone seems to have goals, dreams, and aspirations. Like they want to run for Congress after graduating from law school, and that kind of thing. Meanwhile, I’m not even that interesting. Seriously. It’s not just the classes that aren’t interesting, it’s me as a person.”

I shoot her a puzzled look.

“That’s not true, baby. I find you plenty interesting. Why are you saying that?”

Sam sighs again, her narrow shoulders slumping.

“Well, because we’re currently writing personal narratives in my creative writing class, but I have literally nothing to write about. I don’t have a sad childhood, or a scary time when I was jumped by muggers. Nothing in my life stands out.”

I grin.

“That doesn’t sound so bad. I mean, who wants to be mugged?”

She sticks her tongue out at me again.

“You know what I mean, Randy.”

I nod, tapping my fingers on the smooth tabletop before smirking.

“But you do have something to write about, sweetheart. You could write about our tryst on the roof. That’s certainly exciting enough, isn’t it?”

She bursts into giggles then, accidentally kicking my shin under the table as she laughs. I can see her cheeks heating up even under the dim lighting, and it makes me smile.

“That’s way too raunchy for me to write about! My professor would probably drop dead if he read it!” she titters. “Seriously, that guy is seventy if a day, and reading a piece like that would make him have a heart attack. No joke.”

I chuckle too, taking her hand in mine, and the conversation flows easily between us as we discuss potential essay topics. It’s nice like this. I’m spending time with a beautiful woman while also enjoying her verve and pizzazz, and it keeps me on my toes. Then, the waitress comes over with our pizzas, and we both gasp at the steaming pie. Sam tries a slice first, and her eyes widen as soon as she takes a bite.

“Wait!” She covers her mouth with her hand as she speaks. “OMG, that’s so good!”

I smirk. “The artichoke’s that amazing? I always thought it was kind of a tasteless vegetable.”