My God, Chemistry was torture. But I’ll get back to that.
When I told Ethan to wait… when I stopped him… I told him why. ‘I don’t want to be that girl…’ He knew exactly what I meant. ‘You’re not… and I don’t want to be that guy…’ But he didn’t stop kissing me… he barely took his lips from my neck when he whispered to me. ‘So we’re on the same page, then?’ I had to see his face. And when I did… God, the look he gave me was so perfect I couldn’t resist him. ‘Same page… yes…’ And then we were kissing again… and touching and pulling at each other’s clothes.
You know when you build something up in your head for so long in such detail… and then reality doesn’t measure up to your imagination? That is not what happened with Ethan.
I was a little nervous. It wasn’t what we were doing… it was who I was doing it with. I have full confidence in my… abilities where this particular skill set is concerned. I don’t have as much experience as Hannah… but who the hell does? (Okay… probably Dylan.) But this was different. It was Ethan. Mr. Hottie.
I think he could tell I was nervous. Maybe he was, too. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t in a hurry. Every move was sweet and slow and beautiful… well, at first. He was very… attentive. Not like most college guys. Even the second time… he didn’t rush anything. It was just… beautiful. I can’t stop thinking about it… about him.
Eventually, we must have worn each other out because I remember kissing him… and then it was morning. When he woke up, he slipped out of bed and got dressed. He thought I was still asleep. And for a split second, I was really scared that he was ditching me. But he didn’t leave. He sat on the bed near me, touched my face, and kissed my forehead. I had to open my eyes. I wanted to see him. He smiled and kissed me again… my lips this time. And he told me he’d see me in class… which was in an hour.
• • •
When I walked into Chem, Ethan was already there… staring at the door as I walked in. I couldn’t stop smiling. As soon as I sat down, he took my hand and held it. But he couldn’t hold it the whole time. And I couldn’t kiss him. It was killing me. I think it was killing him, too, because he started writing me little notes. ‘Dinner?’ I smiled and nodded. ‘Maybe we can study after?’ I nodded again. And I tried to pay attention to Professor Doctor Strange, but it wasn’t easy. Especially when Ethan drew me another little picture… and wrote ‘xoxo‘ beside it.
I had other classes this afternoon… but I remember very little about them. This day has been dragging on forever.
Now it’s time for me to meet Ethan for dinner. And I’m supposed to be able to sit with him and eat.
Without attacking him in the dining hall.
• • •
‘Dear Diary’ is fiction based on actual events.
Any similarities to your college life is purely coincidental.
Any similarities to mine is entirely intentional.
©2018 what sandra thinks