Love Hides (in the Strangest Places)

“What the fuck is this?” I yelled, startling James awake.
Just a second ago I’d woken up by a flash in my face and when I’d opened my eyes I saw a dozen faces behind Polaroid cameras. When James awoke to my scream he simply opened his eyes, looked around the room, smacked his lips, and said,
“Who are you?”
“Darcy, what the hell is this?” I said, looking for my roommate.
“I need a beer. Somebody get me a beer.” Silence, “Come on, this is a college dorm, somebody get me a god damn beer."
There was a rush at the back of the room, the door opened and then closed, for a minute the room was silent, then the door opened and closed again and a guy ran in front to hand James the beer he’d fetched.
“Shit, what time is it?” I cursed, looking for the clock. It said 1:45. “Crap, I got Lit. Get up, I gotta go.”
I got out of the bed, wrapping myself in a sheet, leaving James the blanket. If these people aren’t going to get out of my dorm then I’ll just have to do my stuff with them here. That was what I was going to do, until I remembered one thing. James always stretches when he wakes up! And he isn’t wearing anything!
I quickly turned around but was still too late. I heard the gasps from the crowd and even a few people fainting. There was James, standing out of the bed, facing the crowd, beer in one hand, the other lifted high, his whole body tensed, stretched, and he was completely naked. A girl walked up to him, the one that was talking about him yesterday, and she went to touch him. James chugged the beer, burped, put his arm around her, said “Hello.” and then handed her the empty beer bottle, walking over to me. He put his arms around me and pulled me close, kissing me hungrily, and then went to find all his clothes.
The crowd stood and watched, wondering how I could be acting so normal around this beautiful God-like man. I quickly changed into my tight leather pants and a shapeless, billowy, white shirt. I turned around and Jim was in his leather pants, staring at me.
“What?” I smiled.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” James said with a smirk.
“Shut up.” I giggled, hitting his chest lightly.
I went to turn away but he grabbed my hand and pulled me close to him, kissing me, and then whispering in my ear.
“If there weren’t so many people here I’d take you right now.”
A shiver ran up my spine and I had to distance myself from James in order to calm myself.
“Come on, I have to go to Lit. Class.” I grabbed James’ hand and we walked out of the door. Just as I was about to shut the door I opened it again, poked my head in, and spoke,
“Oh, and, get the fuck out of my room. I don’t want you to be here when I get back.” And with one last smirk I shut the door and walked down the hallway, holding the hand of my rock-star lover.

We were sitting in my Literature class (in case you didn’t realize that’s what Lit meant), Jim was sitting beside me. My Lit professor, Prof Donnegal was giving a speech on his thoughts of the trilogy that was taking America by storm right now. The Lord of the Rings written by Prof John Ronald Reuel Tolkien. Prof Donnegal had us researching on the guy because of all the hype lately. Literally, there were cults everywhere. The other day, I was in the subway and on the wall was painted Gandalf 4 Prez. Actually, I had read the books and they were the one of the most amazing things I'd ever read. I’m not even kidding. The depth and intensity was so amazing I couldn’t put it down.
“In my belief Tolkien’s writing is completely allegorical.”
What? Tolkien’s writing was completely un-allegorical!
“His character of Sauron, the Lord of the Ring, was Hitler.”
That’s completely preposterous!
I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to say something! I put my hand up.
“Yes, Ms. Rosser?” Professor Donnegal motioned to me.
I stood up and took a deep breath.
“You are completely wrong to even suggest that Tolkien’s writing was strictly allegorical! I am sorry, but I must speak my mind. Professor Tolkien is an amazing man, and to have written such a story in a time when fantasy writing was rarely seen. He created this story completely from his own mind. Yes, his main theme was death. But that is only because he saw a lot of death. His father died when he was at the age of four, then his mother at twelve. The main reason he was interested in languages was due to his mother. And then when he was a grown man he was in World War I where all but one of his close friends died. So, yes, his main theme was death. And to say that Sauron was a representation of Hitler is absolutely preposterous! Sauron was simply the epitome of Evil. He represented the single Evil, how Evil is commonly represented, as one single being, and the struggle of the ‘Little People’, Frodo. It is a fairy story, a fantasy novel. It is in writing to take us into a whole other world, to take us out of our own. Yes, it seems as if it has a likeness to Hitler but that is only because Hitler was then. It is most likely complete coincidence that such a thing happened. So, Professor Donnegal, to say that The Lord of the Rings is allegorical is quite an uneducated guess and by no means right.”
I let out a big breath and then grabbed my book bag, Jim’s hand, and left the class. I stormed out and finally let out a smile of relief when I was about a yard away from the building my Lit class was in.
“You okay?” Jim asked me.
“Yes, now that I got that off my chest. That Professor is an idiot. I have been trying so hard all year to keep my mind inside my head, but today was just it.” I could feel myself getting mad again.
“Ssh.” Jim put his arms around me, “You did great.”
“I didn’t sound dumb did I?”
“No, you sounded very smart. I loved it.”
“What?”
“I love how smart you are. Pam isn’t that smart. She doesn’t use complicating words or talk of authors. I love you so much.” Jim said, almost sounding desperate.
“I love you too, James.”
Jim put his arms around my waist and then kissed me. All my anger and frustration from Professor Donnegal wilted away. When Jim finally let go I noticed people streaming out of the building, Lit class was over.
“I think I should go apologize to Professor Donnegal.” I admitted.
“You don’t have to, he deserved it.” Jim smirked.
“I want to. You can wait for me outside the door.” I smiled.
He smiled and kissed my lips before taking my hand and following me back into the accursed building.

“Professor Donnegal?” I said, looking into his office which was situated just off the classroom.
“Yes, Ms. Rosser, come to yell at me some more?” he said, looking up from the papers on his desk.
“No, I came to apologize.” I gave a half-hearted smile.
Professor Donnegal removed his glasses and stood up from the desk.
“Really?” he walked towards me, for some reason I became frightened.
“Y-yes.” I stuttered, “I wanted to say I’m sorry about my rude behavior in class, I shouldn’t have under minded you."
He came closer still. What was this guy’s problem?
“You don’t have to apologize Ms. Rosser, you were simply speaking your mind, I find that quite appealing, it’s not very often I get a woman student who is so eager to learn Literature as much as you.”
I now only realized the lingering looks he gave in the vicinity of my breasts and hips. He came closer and soon I was pushed against the wall. For some reason I couldn’t get the courage to yell or scream for help. It didn’t matter after a second. Professor Donnegal was pressed against me and his hand came up to cover my mouth. I could feel something against my hip and I don’t think it was something in his pocket.
“I’ve been watching you, and following your education. You’re very smart, I like that in women.” He hissed in my ear. I wept silently and tears streamed out of my eyes.
“Oh, come on, don’t cry, I’m not that scary.” He laughed as he licked my earlobe, “Mm, this is going to be even better than I imagined.”
His free hand caressed my breasts, and then in one swift movement, the hand that covered my mouth was replaced by his mouth. He tasted of scotch and cigars, it was enough to almost make me sick. I tried to raise my hands to push him away but he caught them both in one hand and lifted them above my head. His mouth released mine for one second and it was just enough for me to scream,
“Jame-!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, but was cut off as Professor Donnegal hit me across the face and I fell on the floor, hitting it with a loud thud. Jim must have either heard my scream or the loud thud I’d made when I’d hit the floor, because a second after the door flung open and in stormed James, looking furious.
“James!” I murmured when I saw him in the doorway.
Through the tears blurring my vision I saw Jim run up to the Professor and punch him in the face. The Professor flew back and blood flowed out of his nose. Jim came rushing towards me and he picked me up in his arms, racing me out of that room, and that building. He stopped, sat me on the grass and then plopped beside me. I quickly crawled onto his lap and threw my arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder.
“Ssh, it’s okay, you’re away from him now.” Jim said, petting my head.
I don’t think I’ll ever forget that day. The day my Lit professor tried to rape me.

You’ll be happy to know that by the next few days, that Lit professor was gone, and was replaced by a sweet old man whom I came to think of as a father. He had snow white hair, fashioned in a comb-over, in an attempt to cover his bald spot. He had large eyebrows and was always making us laugh. He sure as hell was smarter than the last guy.