Chapter 2
Jeff was having trouble sleeping. This is not to say that he was having issues with insomnia; Jeff had zero trouble falling asleep. The problem arose when he fell too deeply asleep and started to dream. After the fifth night of waking up sweaty, tangled in sheets, and with an erection so hard he was pretty sure it was doing permanent damage, Jeff decided from that point forward he was only allowed light naps.
He had always had rather fun dreams, but they have never been so spectacularly vivid or detailed. Nor had they ever, night after night, centered around one woman.
"Girl," he moaned to himself as he punched his pillow. The protest grew weaker with each sleep-deprived night, as his mind had found such wonderfully adult fantasies in which to cast Annie. Even awake, he had a hard, difficult, time not remembering the taste of her lips, the way her soft little body molded against his, the way her eyes darkened and cheeks flushed just before she…
Jeff practically leaped out of bed and headed for his kitchen. He needed something cold and preferably numbing to drink. He opened a beer and downed half in a gulp, wishing for the burn of scotch, but knowing he couldn't afford the hangover. He needed all of his faculties to maintain the casual aloofness he had been employing around Annie. Somehow, she seemed completely unphased by the whole "they totally saw each other naked" thing, and Jeff was having a hard time remaining as cool as Annie. Something he would have never imagined possible.
He knew she still modeled for the classes. He had gone in a few more times, at the Professor's request when they had models cancel, and Jeff had managed to avoid crossing paths with her in that classroom again. He had looked through some of the students' work in the professor's office, though, and knew by the number of sketches done and the improving skill of the renderings that Annie was still baring it all for art. Looking at those pictures had not helped his ability to sleep undisturbed. He groaned and headed for the couch as various images jumped to the surface of his mind. From what he had seen, Annie had become rather adventurous in her posing.
Jeff wasn't pleased with that thought, and he clenched his beer a little too tightly. There were a great deal of young men in that art class, he had noted, and it seemed to him that the vast majority of those men were a bit too accurate with certain details of Annie's body. These "artists" were supposed to be treating her like some untouchable Classic figure, like the subject of a Botticelli, not the muse for a Vargas. Sure, she definitely had the allure of a pin-up girl, with those big innocent eyes, pouty lips, and curves that just –
"Dammit Winger, pull it together! She is not sexy. She is not sexual. She is Annie goddamn Edison. She is chipper and innocent and annoying and child-like. She is the subject of fantasy of creepy old men with a Lolita schoolgirl fetish. She is not, under any circumstance, an object of personal attraction."
Jeff paced his living room during this little speech, abandoning his empty beer bottle. He was indignant that Annie was so obviously being taken advantage of by that sleaze ball professor Carvelli. Truly, she needed to realize that some of the poses she was being told to do were inappropriate for someone to do under the guise of "art". She needed to be told that the looks those artists were sketching were looks she should only be giving a man within the confines of a very specific type of relationship that she wasn't allowed to have until she was at least thirty. If then.
Of course Jeff couldn't actually doom Annie to a life with her cats like Britta, because, really, she was bound to become someone's perfect little wife someday. She would be sweet and drive the kids to soccer and make amazing brownies, help the tykes with their homework before tucking them in and letting her husband ravage her. She would be insatiable, of course, and absolutely, mind-numbingly brilliant with the things she could do with her little hands and tongue. She would muffle screams in her pillow, so as not to wake the kids, and make him growl as he thrust into her warm and wanting – Jeff quickly sat up from the couch where he had started to doze off. Apparently even napping wasn't safe, for now the minute he relaxed his mind went straight to those forbidden fantasies. He had to do something about the situation immediately, and since it was that idiotic art class that put him in this predicament in the first place, clearly it must be the source of the problem. If his subconscious knew that Annie was no longer standing in front of a classroom full of people who were very likely jerking off to the memory of her breasts each night, then he too would not have the overwhelming urge to touch himself to the same image. He would move on.
A plan formed in his head as he stretched out on his couch, not trusting his bed any longer. He would talk to Annie the next day and explain to her, in a cool and detached manner, that she really should not be posing any more. It just wasn't in her best interest and that was that. He smiled as he allowed himself to drift off, knowing that his torturous nights were now numbered.
The next day Jeff felt lighter than he had in weeks, though admittedly the sleep deprivation was making him feel all sorts of funny things. He was his usual awesome self all through classes and study group, and managed to hang back with Annie without raising any attention. Even Abed seemed unaware of his desire to talk with Annie, and Abed always knew when private chats were going to take place.
"I can get you those notes tomorrow, Jeff. I just need to color code them tonight."
"I, wha, huh?" Jeff was derailed from his mental congratulatory session and fumbled with his phone to cover the awkwardness.
"Those notes for geography. You were just saying that – "
"Oh, yeah, right. Those notes. Thanks. By the way, there was something I wanted to talk to you about."
"Really? Me too!"
She shifted from foot to foot, clutching her book bag, and grinning at him with her "squee I can't believe they've got a new line of gel pens in at Staples" look. He knew that look didn't bode well for him.
"What do you want, Annie?"
"Je-ff! How do you know I'm going to ask for something? Maybe I'm just going to – "
"You didn't deny that you want something, so you might as well come out with it." His lawyer skills weren't as finely honed as usual, but were still sharp.
"Well, okay, I do, but still! It's about that art class. You know, Professor Carvelli's?"
"Yes, Annie, I'm obviously familiar with the class." He had to admit, she handled his comment well, with her eyes only barely flickering away from his and the tiniest of blushes blooming on her cheeks.
"Yes, obviously. Well, the class is having a showing of some of the work of the students. I thought it'd be some stupid little thing when I agreed that they could use some of the pieces of me, but I just found out this morning that one of the students' fathers owns this gallery and is letting the class use the space for the showing. Obviously I was invited to attend, but I really don't want to go alone and I was hoping that maybe you might want to come with me?"
Jeff's stomach knotted painfully. Those very inappropriate pieces were going to be displayed for public viewing? Anybody could just wander into some sketchy little "gallery" and see all sides of naked Annie? And she was okay with this? Hell, she wanted to attend so that everybody there could imagine her naked in person? And she thought, "oh gee maybe Jeff will want to come too".
"Jeff?"
"I don't know Annie…"
"I know, it's a Saturday night and you probably have, like, five dates but I'm really excited because, you know, it's like being a real model. But it's really nerve wracking too and I don't think I can deal with it by myself without totally melting into a puddle on the floor and there's no one else I could possibly ask. Britta will either congratulate me on being so open and go on all night about how "liberated" I was, or she would rant about how a woman shouldn't have to take off her clothing to be viewed as a thing of beauty. Shirley would totally spaz, and the boys are just out of the question. Plus I really don't want any of them to know I did it in the first place and since you already know and clearly understand, and I mean, let's face it, you have seen me posing so it's not like anything there will shock you.
"So please, Jeff, will you please come with me? I will do anything for you to make up for asking you such a huge favor up to and including writing your History of Music History paper. Just please say you'll go?"
Jeff stared down at her, having only half heard the speech she had rattled through. Mainly, he watched the passionate way she made her points, the way she wrinkled her brow when she said something personal, and the little glossy Disney eyes she gave him when she made her final plea.
"Of course I'll go with you."
He wasn't actually aware he had conceded out loud, but when she squealed and squeezed him in a hug, he realized that he was trapped.
Damn those Disney eyes.
"Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! Jeff you're the best!"
"I know," he said, trying to ignore the fact that she was hugging him and bouncing and the combination was having a very strong effect on his sleep-addled brain.
"Okay, so then we can meet there, or car pool or, you know, whatever you want." She was getting bashful again and Jeff knew that he would be a huge cad to not at least put a little consideration into a night that she was very clearly excited about.
"How about I pick you up at your place before hand. We can breeze through the gallery until you get bored staring at yourself and then we can have a late dinner."
"Oh, no, Jeff there's no need to – "
"Annie, you're not going to be able to eat before you go and I've been to enough galleries to know the tiny crackers they serve cannot count as a meal. Besides, it's only appropriate for such an inspiring muse to be treated to a little dinner on the night of her unveiling."
Dear god, something stop my mouth right now.
"Aw, Je-ff! That's so sweet! Okay, then it's a date. But not a real date! Just a, I mean, um, you wanted to ask me something?"
"I…what?"
"Earlier, you wanted to talk to me about something?"
Jesus H Christ, yeah, but that ship's long sailed, Edison.
"I was just going to see if you…wanted to maybe…sign up for Carvelli's class next year. I mean, you've spent enough time in it to get credit right? And, I don't know, it looked fun!"
Fun? Jeff, seriously, fun?! You're a fucking idiot.
"Well, I…I don't know. I can barely draw a stick figure."
"Yeah, but even that kid Simon is getting an A and his sketches look like something Jackson Pollack would scratch is head about. He just doesn't giggle when Carvelli says his penis proportions are off."
Why are you actually arguing for this? Oh, right, she'd be suspicious if you didn't. Nice.
"You know? Sure! Why not? I think you're right; it would be fun. It'd be nice to stare at someone else for hours on end for a change! Let's do it!"
Yep...you're a fucking idiot. And apparently exhaustion is your kryptonite. Good to know.
"Okay, well I have to go, but I'll see you tomorrow! And thanks again Jeff! I never thought you'd be so cool about it!"
She scampered from the classroom and Jeff let his head fall to the table. Hard.
"I'm not, Annie. I'm just too stupid to react like I'm supposed to."
"And doesn't that just Chang your attitude?"
Jeff jumped up from the table looking around for the small Chinese demon.
"Goddammit Chang, why are you here? Get out! You are not in the study group! And stop using that same fucking pun!" He grabbed the little man off the couch and hurled him into the library hallway.
"Coffee. I need some coffee and some sleep and some scotch and some coffee," he muttered as he gathered his books and phone and stormed out of the room.
