Summer Series 02: Literary

Have you ever seen a pair of lips so perfect... that your most innate and immediate thought... was how they would feel placing soft wet kisses between your thighs?

No? I hadn't either.

But for the last 45 minutes, all I have been able to think about is if having letters of the alphabet being traced around your clit feels as good as it sounds.

When I had scrolled upon the Instagram post advertising the weekday night creative writing class, I had been excited. It would be a few nights a week in one of the classrooms of my former high school. I had just turned 31, and while my day job and social life kept me mostly busy... a small part of me was always upset that my love for writing had taken a back seat to my other pursuits.

So what an amazing opportunity to get back into it, right? Maybe learn a few new things. I hadn't been in a classroom environment for years. I even looked forward to possibly meeting a few new like-minded literary types.

Walking into the stuffy, warm classroom was nostalgic. I remembered this place from decades ago when I had taken a Spanish class in 10th grade. Sliding into the seat at the back of the class was also a comforting throwback to the last time I had been here.

My eyes darted around the room to the dozen or so other participants that had beat me here. Mostly older men and women. Very serious looking. I shrugged, letting visions of after class happy hour meet-ups slip away somewhat regretfully.

An over preparer, I had done a mini back-to-school shopping trip in anticipation of this weekend class. Nothing was actually required per the details on the ad. Just send a quick email requesting a spot and an optional Paypal donation was all that was required for registration. But I figured the shiny gold pens that matched my white marble patterned notebook and laptop cover wouldn't hurt.

It was those stupid matching pens that had actually occupied my attention when he walked in. One had rolled off of the edge of my tiny little desk (I forgot how small these desks had been) and clattered against the floor. Sweeping my long honey brown curls into a messy bun on top of my head, I bent down to pick it up, nearly smacking my head on the underside of the desk when the deep voice broke the silence in the room.

"Wow, there are more of you here than I expected."

I shot up quickly, righting myself, and looking at the head of the class at the man who had spoken.

Less than average height. A messy brown undercut, highlighted by a few sunkissed strands. Definitely not my usual type-- but really, what had keeping a height requirement yielded me anyway?

He was dressed casually... The long sleeve graphic tee promoted some obscure bands tour schedule. Khaki shorts and colorful pair of Air Jordan Ones made it clear he either had plans before or after this.

He laughed awkwardly, flashing a perfect lopsided grin at the class in front of him. "But I appreciate you all being here. I'm Cody... and hopefully, in these next few weeks I can help you all explore the depth of your souls through the magic of written word..."

Another awkward pause. Another short laugh and a big grin. "Or at very least entertain me with whatever weird fan fiction you guys come up with."

So he was cute and had a sense of humor.

I had to stop myself from smiling, bringing my attention back to the notebook in front of me. I doodled and made irrelevant notes as he went over the loose rubric for the class.

"Don't hate me for this..." he started as he moved to sit-up on the desk behind him. "... but, how about we get some introductions going?"

There was an audible groan amongst the group of adults in front of him. Not surprising, as we were all well past school-aged. But he pressed on.

"I know it's corny, but it's easier to read your work when I know a little background on the author. So, who's first?"

The silence was uncomfortable. Most of the class began shifting awkwardly, suddenly finding their pens or cellphones much more interesting.

Fuck it. Mostly because I hate seeing someone be subjected to awkwardness, I slowly rose my hand.

He lifted his eyes to meet mine then, his face almost surprised? Like he just realized that more than the first row of students existed. He nodded in my direction, prompting me to stand.

"What are we supposed to say?"

He smiled again, raising a hand to run the pad of his thumb along his bottom lip thoughtfully. "How about... where you're from... and what you hope to get out of this class?"

I nodded, feeling the same first-day of school jitters I had more than a decade ago when I last roamed these halls.

"Well, I'm Giselle." I scanned the room while lifting my hand in a short awkward wave. "I grew up around here... in North Atlanta. I actually graduated from this school." I shifted my eyes back to Cody at the front of the room where his gaze was already awaiting mine. "And, I don't know. I used to write a lot when I was younger... and I wanted a space where I could do that. With some professional guidance, I guess."

He smiled and I did not miss the slow and intentional way he let his teeth graze his bottom lip as I finished speaking.

We held eye contact for what felt like a private eternity, but I'm sure it was just a few seconds. I felt the heat creeping up from my collar, and I knew I was only seconds away from full blush.

"Nice to meet you, Giselle. And I seriously hope I can meet your expectations when it comes to guidance you're looking for."

I sat slowly, needing a second to regroup after that moment. Was I sweating? How the fuck had someone I had just met verbally fucked me without really saying anything?

The rest of the class went on unremarkably. Cody's eyes would drift over to me every so often while the other students rambled on about their reasons for joining the class. Occasionally a small smile or laugh in my direction when someone said something particularly weird or awkward.

He was cute as fuck. When he wasn't looking my way, I would stare openly. I saw him the first time he walked in... but there is something about someone showing interest in you that makes you re-examine them all over again.

I took note of some of the weird tattoos that covered his arms and legs, wondering idly the stories behind them. They were all small and separate, not cohesive. An intentional design.

I liked the way his eyes would crinkle at the corners when he would laugh. And the way he would push his messy hair back every so often. He had this ridiculously cool air about him. Super confident and self-assured.

I was still staring lost in thought, biting the end of one of my fancy pens when I missed the assignment he gave the class. I saw his sexy full lips moving, but my mind was somewhere far off thinking about the alphabet and the capabilities of his tongue.

I panicked a little, looking towards my neighbors, who on top of not looking super friendly, were already picking up their bags to leave.

"Fuck." Quietly, under my breath. I began slowly packing my things. Super pleased with myself for buying all of this shit to take notes and not managing to record a single important thing from the class.

As I stood, I met eyes with an approaching Cody. Hands in his pockets, he stopped to lean against the desk in front of me. "You good?"

Upclose, he only had a few inches on my 5'2 frame. But what he lacked in height, he made up for in obvious confidence. I could almost feel the energy he radiated.

"I think I missed the assignment." I pulled my bag over my shoulder. "Do you think you could go over it one more time?"

Cody smirked, eyes narrowing. "Giselle, you're killing me."

His smile and his eye contact made me flush. I watched him pull a hand from his pocket, pushing it through his hair, before speaking.

"Just write anything. A poem, story... whatever. I just want to get an idea of your style."

I nodded. Easy enough. I gave Cody a quick smile and an awkward wave and moved past him. He followed after me, stopping at his desk as I continued to the door.

"Hey, Giselle."

I turned around to see him leaning over the desk, tapping out something on his laptop. "Cody?"

"Don't overthink it. Just let it come naturally." He didn't make eye contact as he said this. And it took me a second to understand what he was referring to.

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"Giselle."

Everyone was still filing into the classroom on Monday night when Cody called on me, stopping me in my path to my desk.

Every time he said my name, I couldn't stop the goosebumps that would prickle my skin. The way the first class had gone still stood out in my mind. But the weeks since then, he hadn't so much as looked in my direction. I couldn't decide if I had just misread all of the nuances that day... or if I had done something to make him change his mind.

I turned back to face him. The obvious tiny crop tops and sweatpants I had tried to get Cody's attention with last week hadn't moved him, so this week I opted for a simple suede skirt and an oversized sweater. "Yes?"

He looked at his laptop for a few seconds before speaking, tapping quickly before looking up. Meeting my gaze, he narrowed his eyes. There was the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

"Can we speak for a second after class today?"

I nodded. "Was there an issue with my paper?"

The words came out innocently, but I had an idea what the problem may have been.

The assignment had been to describe a transformative moment. Something that had recently happened in your life that caused a temporary or permanent change.

I had considered my topic for a while... flipping through memories of high school and my early 20s. I had plenty of moments that I had been transformed by, most by force. Usually at great embarrassment to myself. None of which I felt like reliving with my very hot teacher.

Hot Teacher needed to know something fun and exciting about me. Something that would make him notice me. The idea in itself felt so fucking corny-- outside of this classroom, I rarely had to put this much effort into getting attention from men. My mother was French and my father Dominican, lending to my super unique mix of traits. My skin was the color of burnished copper, my hair long dark and wavy. I had my father's wide almond-shaped eyes and my mother's tiny upturned nose. And outside of this, I held a pretty decent job as a PR consultant. I was usually very modest, but Cody had me wanting to scream my list of attractive qualities at him.

I had titled my paper, "Learning One's Self in the time of Drought." It was vague, but the first few paragraphs had included thinly veiled desert metaphors that made it clear I was alluding to my sex life. The purported "drought" was a choice that I had made a few months ago, I explained. After a string of bad dates and worse hook-ups had made me reevaluate my worth-- and decide that I wouldn't be ready to water my figurative parched badlands until I met someone who moved me in the way that caused the tides to come on their own.

I had dropped the paper on his desk last week with enthusiasm. Waiting precisely for this moment of acknowledgment.

"Tons of issues, actually. An offensive amount, honestly." His brows knit in concern. "But we can discuss that later."

Okay. I nodded slowly, not sure what to make of his statement. The fuck? I had probably had a sharp rebuttal had the class not filled completely by this point. I moved on towards my desk, taking a seat.

Today Cody discussed the effective use of metaphors. Not only quoting William Shakespear but lyrics from Lil' Wayne and Lupe Fiasco.

"Metaphors can be fun right?" Cody walked a short path across the front of the room. He stopped suddenly in front of my row. I still sat in the back, so I was able to avoid his gaze as it swept over the students in front of me. "Everyone has their favorite one-liner from a song, poem or novel--"

"What's yours?" The question came from Dave, the part-time alien erotica novelist and full-time insurance salesman on the first row.

Cody laughed. "It's from Wayne... maybe not class appropriate, but it's about uzis and AKs."

I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what lyric he was referring to. "Wowzers" by Lil' Wayne had been a fucking banger... but I'm sure most of the class missed the absurdity of his reference.

"I love a good metaphor. And from what I've read, most of you do as well." He moved back towards his desk, picking up a short stack of printed sheets. "In The Storm, Kate Chopin wrote 'her mouth was a fountain of delight." Cody waved the papers around as he spoke. "We all have some semblance of what she means right?"

The class nodded in unison; some blushing, some smiling wickedly. He lifted the papers in front of him to read.

"Dry, barren, and wasted... I had an aching need to be watered, but my oasis would never be found by swiping left or right on a dating app."

My breath caught as he read out loud, recognizing every single word that I felt like he was yelling at the classroom. The group erupted in giggles.

"A bit heavy-handed right?" He uncrossed his arms, sweeping them open in exasperation. "Like, we get it... how could we not?"

His eyes never once even threatened to breach my back corner of the room as he continued.

"I caution you all, in your use of metaphors-- ask yourself this: How can I say this directly and make sure it is understood, but with some softness and subtly?" He shook the papers signaling to them. "Subtlety is key."

There was no pretty comparison that I could find for the insane red color that I was certain my face was. That paper, while true, had been a completely open attempt at getting Cody to notice me. I had been intentional with my over-the-top analogies. No sane person would call their pussy a desert and be serious. What the fuck was that?

"For our next class, give me two paragraphs... describe an intense moment you've experienced." Cody took a seat back at his desk. "In one, exclusively use metaphor. The other, speak directly and plainly."

People around me began making movements to leave. I remained still. I wasn't mad at his little directed attack, but more so confused by it. It almost felt like I was being rebuffed. And that didn't sit well with me.

I waited until the room was empty to stand and walk towards the front . Cody was leaning forward, scrolling on his laptop screen. He didn't acknowledge my approach.

"You asked to see me?"

He looked up after a few seconds, a shit-eating grin on his face. "Giselle."

"That was cute... using my paper as an example." I had crossed my arms defensively. I watched him pull my paper from the tray on his desk, laughing a little as he flipped through it.

"I mean, Giselle-- this was... awful." He punctuated that last word sharply, drawing it out in a funny sing-songy way that made me want to snatch my paper from his hands.

I shrugged. "I mean, I used a bit of creative license--"

"I'm revoking it. Your license." Cody dropped it on the desk. He leaned back in his chair, lifting his arms and crossing his fingers behind his head. "Thank God you're in my class."

He was a smug little fuck. I hated that even as irritated as I was, I couldn't stop my eyes from examining the tattoos that he had now exposed on his inner bicep. His green eyes were fucking sparkling with joy-- clearly pleased with the annoyance he was causing me.

"So, what now? Now that I've thoroughly been drug by my summer school writing teacher?" I did reach forward and grab my paper then, Cody only watching me from his reclined position. "No constructive criticism? Writing tips?"

"I mean you need a lot of help. Certainly more than I could have fit into the margins of your paper." I waited for him to wrap this up. He sat straight up. "But you're in luck. I offer tutoring."

What? Was he serious? "Tutoring... for an elective summer writing class. A class that I'm taking for fun."

He chuckled. "It's up to you... but you desperately need the help. I usually only tutor my younger students, but I'm willing to take time out of my evening to teach you some things." His focus moved back to his laptop. "Does tonight work? We have a lot to cover."

I'm sure the wave of realization that washed over me was visible. "Oh. Tonight?"

"It's clear you need my help."

I nodded slowly. "Absolutely."

Cody smirked. "As soon as possible."

I pulled my phone from my bag, unlocking it. "Tonight?"

"I have a writing studio... in my apartment." Cody squinted, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as his teeth bit into it. "For very serious writers, of course."

I bit back a smile. He was so fucking cute. And those lips.

"I am very serious about improving my writing." I navigated to my notes app on my phone. "So, what's the address of this exclusive writer's studio?"

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Cody lived in a new apartment complex a few blocks away from the school. I could have easily walked, but I took a few hours to go home and freshen up. Wearing an oversized Ramones t-shirt as a dress and white vans, I felt more like a college freshman going to a dorm party than a serious writer, but I looked cute.

I parked on the street and grabbed my bag from the passenger seat. This was a tutoring session, right? I didn't want to risk showing up empty-handed and he had in fact intended to tutor me.

Walking down the sidewalk, I noticed Cody sitting on the steps at the apartment entrance. He stood when he saw me. His hands were in the pockets of his sweat shorts as he walked towards me.

He cracked a small smile. "Am I tutoring you or taking you to an Ariana Grande concert?"

I hid my grin by looking down at my outfit. "I think I look extremely studious."

He looked really good. He always was dressed casually at school, but his wrinkled v-neck, disheveled hair, and slides made it clear he had just woken up. I felt a warmth from the sleepy happy look he gave me.

He grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers together. "Come on, E.L. James. Let's get started." Cody pulled me up the stairs after him. He smelled like laundry detergent and weed, and I found that oddly comforting and sexy.

The way he held my hand as we walked down the hall to his apartment was sweet. I didn't even know this person, but the immediate comfort I felt around him spoke to his confidence.

He opened his apartment door and I was immediately surprised by how neat it was. His furniture was nice, coordinated in masculine colors. A large modern writing desk and lamp sitting in the area where a dining room should be.

He let go of my hand and walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge. "You want a beer?"

I dropped my bag on his sofa and joined him, standing on the other side of his bar. "Shouldn't we be sober for this?"

"Eh, probably." He flipped the top off of two Corona's, placing one on the bar in front of me. "Take a seat at the desk."

I picked up my beer and took a sip. Eyeing him a little suspiciously, I followed his direction, sitting in front of the computer. I tapped it to life, my paper appearing on the screen in front of me.

"I feel like your metaphors were a bit... hyperbolic." Cody walked from around the bar, setting his beer on the desk as he took his place standing behind me.

"Give me an example."

"I was sleeping when you got here, so sorry for not having these pulled up." I felt Cody move into my personal space, leaning over my shoulder to scroll on his computer's mouse pad. I could feel his body heat, the fabric of his shirt brushing against mine. "Read this paragraph."

He pointed at a particular cringe line of text. I had gone a bit overboard on that one. "I was arid. The ideas and thoughts that had once created torrential downpours across my plain, now would not even inspire a light drizzle. The encounters are empty and uninspiring."