The Brink of Destruction

"It's frickin' freezing out there!" I complained as I set my dripping backpack down and closed the door. My hair was plastered to my neck and felt like icy tentacles. Wynn sat at her desk, working on her art history term paper, and I could tell by the half-empty pot of coffee that she'd been at it for some time.

"How's it going?" I asked as I hung my coat in the closet.

"I'm bogged down in Botticelli, if you want to know the truth," she said glumly. "Maybe it's writer's block, but every time I finish a paragraph and try to move on to the next one, I draw a total blank."

"Maybe we had too much fun over Thanksgiving, you think?" I asked. "I still haven't gotten over the party at Molly's--my stomach just feels yucky and I could sleep for a week!"

"You partied hard, my girl!" she said, laughing. "I heard Billie had to carry you out to the van over his shoulder!"

"Not true! At least I don't think it is..."

"Come on now, you don't remember, do you?" she teased. "Don't feel bad--Mike said he found me asleep in the shower, leaning up against the wall. It was a good time, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," I said, trailing off. She eyed me suspiciously as I pulled out my calculus book and notebook. "What?" I asked.

"Nothing, really. Just that you've been awfully quiet since we got back, and I thought as snuggly as you and Billie were that you'd be on top of the world. Everything okay with you two?" She tried to sound airy and casual, but there was an edge of concern in her voice.

"Yeah, we're good. We're just trying to figure out where we're going from here, and we keep running into the same brick wall over and over."

"So are you guys planning the future already? That sounds kind of serious," she grinned, but the smile faded when she saw my face. "Isn't that a good thing?" she asked.

"It should be. But trying to mix his future and mine...it's like oil and water. Have you and Mike talked about it at all?"

For a girl as outgoing as Wynn, I was surprised to see a shy blush color her cheeks. "A little," she said, shrugging mysteriously. "Don't say anything to him, okay?"

"You have my word on it," I said, crossing my heart.

"We're kind of, well, pre-engaged, I guess you'd call it."

"WHAT???" I shrieked, running over to hug her. "That's wonderful! When did this happen?" I was delighted for them, but not that surprised. After all, they were perfect together.

"When we got back to the hotel after the party Saturday. Like I told you, he had to come get me out of the shower. When I got my PJ's on, he said he had something for me. So he gets this bag out of the closet, and he reaches in and pulls out this little stuffed bunny, and says, 'This is because I love you on Saturdays'."

"Aww, that's so sweet!"

"Then, he gives me a little duck, and says 'This is because I love you on Sundays'. And he keeps going until I've got a different animal for every day of the week."

"You are so lucky--he's got to be the most romantic guy ever!"

"It gets better. He reaches into the bag, and pulls out a little teddy bear holding a heart, and says, 'This is because I love you forever.' And guess what's tied around his paw?"

I looked down at her left hand, which now bore a gold ring with a tiny diamond heart. Her face was glowing, lit up with joy, and it was beautiful to see.

"Wynn, I'm so excited for both of you! Mike's such a good guy, and he'll make you really happy." And it was true, I was genuinely thrilled for them. And yet there was a hollow ache in my chest as I said the words, one that left me wishing that Billie and I could find our way as easily as they had.

************

We were heading into finals, and for me, the outlook was grim. As it stood, I was carrying a 1.95 average, just short of the 2.0 I had to have to keep my scholarship. Smart money said that finals weren't going to change that for the better, either. The letter from my dean warned, in the strongest possible language, that I was "in peril of losing financial aid," which was just a fancy way of saying I was about to be out on my ass. Without the scholarships, there was no way in hell I could pay for another semester.

Fuck it. Que sera, sera, and all that crap.

I spread my French notes out in front of me and slipped a Bob Marley and the Wailers CD into the stereo. I popped open a diet Mountain Dew (maximum caffeine!), scooped another spoonful of instant coffee powder from the jar, and washed it down with the soda. I was beginning to get the shakes, and had noticed that even my eyeballs seemed to be vibrating, making the letters shimmy across the page like strange, tiny insects.

I'd been awake now for 42 hours. But I was determined that, whatever the outcome, I'd be able to say I really tried. It didn't really matter to me anymore; maybe I was too tired to care. But I knew that my parents, and Billie, would be waiting anxiously to find how I'd done, and it was worth the exhaustion to make an effort for them.

When the exam crunch had begun two weeks before Christmas, it was all I could think about. I'd made no plans for the holiday, had no idea when--or if--I was going home. I was focused on the next final, and then the one after that. Eating had become a luxury that only got squeezed in sporadically; the occasional bagel or banana was all that stood between me and starvation. Not that it mattered much anyway; every time I walked by the dining hall and smelled the aromas of food cooking, my stomach recoiled, no doubt protesting the shabby way I'd treated it of late. Laundry was piled up in the basket beside the closet door, and since I'd worn my last clean pair of underwear yesterday, I was now sporting my bathing suit bottoms under my jeans. Long story short, I was a fucking shambles.

But by God, I was studying!

Billie had called several times over the last few days, and we'd spoken twice. The other times, I was either in the shower or dozing briefly with my head on my book, and Wynn had asked him in a low whisper if he could call back when I'd had a few Z's. She told me that he was beginning to sound worried, and wanted to come by, but I knew if he did, I'd drop everything I was doing, and I couldn't do that. Not now.

My focus had sharpened so much that even the thoughts of Jackie had backed away into some shadowy corner for the moment. Billie hadn't volunteered much detail about her, and I wasn't going to force him, so there was no point thinking about it. It hadn't worked out between them, and that was that. But there was no doubt that she still haunted him, leaving him with questions he'd never be able to answer, and a crippling fear of history somehow repeating itself. All I could do was love him, and keep telling him that nothing, absolutely nothing, could ever make me give up on him.

But giving up on myself, now that might be a different matter entirely.

The French exam was a bitch on PMS, but as I trudged back to the dorm in the cold rain, slugging through the puddles on the flagstone sidewalks, I was actually smiling. Unless there was a shocker in store, I thought I'd aced it.

Inside the front door of Canterbury, I shook out my umbrella and started up the stairs. It was deja vu--there stood Billie at the landing, foot propped casually against the wall, arms crossed, leather jacket spotted with rain.

"How long have you been waiting?" I grinned as I climbed the last few steps and put my arms around his waist. He cocked an eyebrow, smirking from under the brim of his hat.

"Who says I was waiting? I just happened to be in the neighborhood!" he said.

"Oh, well, then, I'd better be going so I don't hold you up!" I started to lean over to pick up my backpack, but he pulled me so sharply against him that I dropped it. His mouth covered mine hungrily, breath coming in deep sighs, and his fingers wove through my wet hair behind my ear as he cradled my head. Our bellies pressed close together, hipbones meeting hard and unyielding beneath his studded belt, and I slid my arms around his neck as I felt my knees going weak.

A pair of heels clacked a staccato beat toward us from up the hall, and as the smartly dressed sorority pledge with the bouncing ponytail started down the stairs, she turned and caught sight of us, her face drawing up into a pinched little frown of disapproval. I felt Billie's hand lift from my waist, and realized he was flipping her off as she gasped and doubled her pace.

God, his mouth tasted so good, like Kahlua and cream.

When he broke the kiss, his head lowered against my shoulder, and his lips touched my neck softly, over and over. He held me so tightly I could hardly catch my breath.

"I miss you so much, baby," he whispered roughly. "It's been too long."

"Six days," I nodded.

"Six days, eighteen hours, and forty minutes," he breathed into my ear. "I can't stand it another second. Tell me you don't have to go anywhere right now."

I was so vulnerable to him right now. I'd missed him, too, and my dreams had been filled with him every night. The soft, warm kisses beneath my jawline were making me delirious.
"I don't have to go anywhere right now," I repeated dreamily, sounding as if I were hypnotized--and to be truthful, I was.

"Where the hell can we go to get some privacy?" he panted, his softly unfocused eyes burning green fire into mine. "Mike's at the apartment and Wynn's in your room."

At first his car was the only place I could think of, but then it came to me--the sixth floor study room! If we were lucky, it might be empty, and the door could be locked from the inside...

It was cool, even with the windows tightly closed, but as the lock clicked home, I could feel the waves of heat between us. Sliding my hands beneath the black leather and underneath his shirt, I felt the muscles in his back flex and relax as his arms pulled me closer.

"Please, Billie," I whispered against his neck, "take me away from all this. Make it just you and me again, the way it's supposed to be. I've missed this so much..."

He took off his jacket and spread it out on the table. Scooping me into his arms, he laid me gently down on it, standing over me for a moment with eyes full of passion. He caressed my face, slowly, softly, and bent to take my earlobe between his lips, making me moan helplessly. Without a word, he looked into my eyes, waiting for my consent. I pulled his head close again to kiss him deeply in reply. His hands moved impatiently over my waist, my hips, and I felt the cool rush of air as clothing slithered to the floor.

The sound of the rain against the windows was a steady beat, and our raging hearts kept perfect time. We clung desperately to each other, and as he cried out my name his fingers laced through mine and squeezed them as though he'd never let go. And for that moment, it was just the two of us in the world, and even time meant nothing at all.

***********

Billie walked me back to the room and I unlocked the door with trembling fingers. As it swung open, Wynn looked up at me with a conspiratorial smile, and winked at Billie, who was grinning from ear to ear.

There on the bed, neatly folded, was all the laundry I'd avoided doing, freshly washed. A vase of tiger lilies sat on the corner of my desk, next to a covered bowl labeled "chicken noodle." The linens on the bed had been changed, the pillow fluffed, and a pair of roses, one white and one red, lay on the pale blue pillowcase.

"The red one means I love you, and the white one means you're my best friend," he said, looking proudly around at his handiwork.

My mouth sagged open, fishlike. "Wh-when did you do all this?" I asked, watching Wynn giggle innocently.

"While you were taking your exam, your roommate kindly let me come and go as I pleased," he said, with a nod toward Wynn. "She also volunteered to fold some of your...um...delicates--"

"So he wouldn't be embarrassed," she finished for him. "Like that's possible!" He glared at her in mock indignation, but couldn't keep the smile from his face.

"I have no idea what to say, guys. That was just...the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me. How do I ever thank you?" I was completely overwhelmed.

He took me by both hands, his smile fading. "Just relax and take it easy until finals are over, okay? You've been killing yourself studying, and I'm worried about you. I don't want you making yourself sick over this. Just do the best you can, and take care of yourself. Or better yet, let me take care of you." He pulled my head against his chest and wrapped his arms around me, kissing the top of my head.

"Okay," I murmured. Even to myself I sounded like a little child. "I just want to make you proud."

His voice rumbled against my ear. "I'm always proud of you, baby. You're my Genny, and that's all I need to know."

Wynn turned back to her paper, but she was smiling. "You guys make me sick," she said.