Junior Year, Fall Semester

Chapter Thirty-Five: Connor Punches My Girlfriend

Kevin paced back and forth in front of the Microbiology office, clutching a fistful of hair in his hands. The door was closed and the lights were off, but nevertheless he stayed right where he was.

After a few minutes he was finally jerked out of his anxious and frustrated thoughts by an all-too-familiar voice. "What the hell is your problem this time?"

Kevin stopped and spun back around to see Brynn standing at the end of the hallway with a three-ring binder in her hands, eyebrows raised.

"Where's Dr. Himawari?" he snapped.

"How the fuck would I know?" she stepped forward, heels clacking on the tile. "Probably home, it's five-forty five. You think she lives here or something?"

"She should!" Kevin insisted stubbornly. "I need to talk to her right now. I don't want to be a doctor."

Brynn faltered at that. "Come again?"

"I don't want to be a doctor, okay? I just came from counseling, and I found out I've been planning this wrong the whole time and I don't know what I want to be, so I need to talk to my advisor and fix this. Right now."

The look she was giving him could best be described as mystified. "Are you serious?"

"Yes!" Kevin shrieked. "Oh my God, what should I do?" He looked down at her desperately, and in a moment of madness, he actually reached forward and grabbed her shoulders. "What the hell do I do, Brynn?"

Brynn immediately jerked away from his grasp. "You really think I know the answer to that?" she said. "What exactly are you looking for here?'

"I don't know!" Kevin cried. Mind running wild, he tossed his hands up in the air in frustration and resumed his pacing. "That's the problem, okay? I don't know!"

Brynn shook her head. "All right, stop. Hey, calm down. Hey!" she stepped forward to physically block his path, her free hand on her hip. "Do you want my help or not?"

She spun on her heel and stepped into an empty classroom, motioning for him to follow. "Now then," she said, leaning against the whiteboard. "What the hell is going on?"

"I can't figure my life out," he said, a desperate look in his eyes. "I was talking to my counselor, and I realized I don't want to be a doctor but I've been planning my entire life around being a doctor so what the hell am I supposed to do now?" He heard Brynn sigh as he began pacing once more, this time across the front of the classroom. "What exactly am I supposed do now? What about Johns Hopkins? Do I even want to go there anymore? What's the point? It's in Baltimore, Brynn, Baltimore! Have you ever been to Baltimore?" He stopped abruptly and glared at her. "Well, have you?"

"No, Kevin," she snapped. "I've never been to fucking Baltimore."

"Me neither!" Kevin's voice was borderline shrilly by now. "How do I know I'd like it? I haven't even Googled it! I've just been so set on being a doctor that all I thought about was the school."

Defeated, he slumped back against the podium, running a hand through his mussed hair. "I need to figure this out," he said. "I just need to focus, that's all. Damn it, why is it so hard? I just need...I need…"

He trailed off, staring absentmindedly at Brynn as if he'd never seen her before. "Hi," he said after a few seconds, almost as if in a daze.

She scowled. "Kevin, what the fuck?"

"You're really short, you know that?" he remarked. "Do you even clear five feet?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm five-one," she stated.

"Uh huh. I need you to do something for me, Brynn. Can you do that?" He took a few steps toward her, and based on her extremely confused expression, he figured he must've looked like a crazy man, though he really didn't care at this point. "You knew Ira was a drug dealer. Who else do you know?"

Her eyebrows shot up in clarity. "You want me to hook you up with someone with Adderall?" she said. "No way, junkie. Hell no."

"I told you, I need to focus!" he persisted. "I have to reevaluate my entire life plan tonight. How am I supposed to do that without the pills?"

"I don't care if you need to focus. Who would I even refer you to, anyway? Just because Ira happened to tell me he sold drugs doesn't mean I know every dealer on campus." She tapped her fingernails against the binder in her hands. "And you really think you're gonna get all that figured out tonight? That's impossible. What're you gonna do, Google what job do I want? In addition to do I like Baltimore?"

"Maybe," Kevin snapped.

"Well that's stupid. We're science majors; we know better than to plan our whole lives around one assessment on some dumbass website."

"Well, fine then. And I don't care what you say; it's not impossible. At least not if I have the pills. Maybe if I take them just this once, I could—"

"No, Kevin. Don't open that floodgate," she said. "Why do you even need to know tonight? Do you want to change your major?"

"No," he replied. "I like my major."

"Then what's the problem? Obviously you want to do something in that field. You've probably got a year to figure out exactly what it is before you have to worry about grad school and all that shit."

"So? What if I want to know right now?" Kevin said. "I hate not knowing, Brynn. And I hate not having the pills. Sometimes it's fine, and everything seems clear, but then my mind starts to race and it's—God, it's a mess. It's day one, and I'm already a fucking mess."

Eyes filling with tears of frustration, he stepped back and dropped down into the closest little desk, burying his face in his hands.

He heard Brynn clear her throat uncomfortably before taking a few hesitant steps toward his seat. A couple seconds later, he heard her settle down and felt a hand on his shoulder giving him a few stiff, awkward pats.

"There there," she said flatly.

"I'm so sick of not having my shit together," he groaned.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, no one actually likes not having their shit together."

He lifted his head to scowl at Brynn. "You really suck at this." Sniffing and wiping away a stray tear that had managed to leak out, he added, "What the hell am I supposed to tell people when they ask about my future? I don't know?"

"Sure, why not? You don't know."

"That's not good enough. I can't be one of those undecided students. That's all well and good before college, or during freshman year even, but I'm halfway through and I need a damn plan."

"You'll figure it out eventually." Brynn was clearly starting to lose patience. "You're freaking out over nothing; try focusing on the here and now for once. Don't you have homework or something?"

Kevin sighed and rested his chin in his hand. "I guess," he said. "I hate that, though. How am I supposed to do anything if I don't know how it fits into my future?"

"Just like everyone else who has no clue what their future looks like. Do any of us really know that?"

Kevin made a noncommittal noise. "You're so lucky, you know that?" he said grudgingly. "All you have to do when you're finished here is go to law school and take the bar. It's so much easier than what I have to deal with."

She pursed her lips. "Yeah, it's gonna be a fucking walk in the park," she deadpanned. "What exactly do you think the bar is? A damn candy bar and a high five? You think they'll give us Snickers or Kit Kats?"

Kevin rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, slouching down in his seat. "Whatever," he grumbled. "I hate growing up."

"Join the club, buddy."

One Week Later

Slowly but surely, Kevin was learning to live with uncertainty in his life. His advisor was probably sick of him, everyone in Career Services knew him by name, and he'd spent countless hours researching careers in microbiology, but hey, he was adjusting. And most importantly, he was still Adderall-free.

"Venti nonfat white mocha with hazelnut and an extra shot of espresso for Shelby," he called with a bright smile, handing the drink over to the girl by the counter. He'd suggested it to her when she couldn't decide, and it was one of his favorite creations. Maybe he could just stay in school forever, working at Starbucks and tutoring poor souls in college algebra.

Yeah right.

"Hi there." Kevin's stomach did a funny little flip at the welcome voice. He looked up and grinned when he saw Connor at the cash register.

"Hey you," he said, stepping up to the machine. "You buying anything?"

"Yeah, I want a coconut sunset frappuccino, light on the coconut but extra sunset."

"Ha ha," Kevin muttered dryly. "That's not a thing, jerk."

"Make it anyway. Caffeine-free, with double the sugar, and no calories whatsoever."

"You think you're so clever, don't you? I'm guessing you want your usual." Kevin plucked a grande cold cup out of the stack and marked it up for passion tea lemonade.

"Of course, thanks." It was only when Kevin reached for Connor's debit card that he noticed the other was practically bouncing with glee.

"What're you so excited about?" he asked.

"I'm Caldwell Cladwell!" The words burst from Connor's mouth the second Kevin finished his question, and Kevin paused with the card still in hand.

"I don't know what that is," he admitted. "Wait, are you talking about the play? Did you get the part you wanted?"

"I did! Can you believe it, Kev? I just found out. I actually get some of my own songs this time, and I've never played a villain before. This is gonna be so much fun!"

"That's awesome." Kevin finally swiped the card and handed it back, and he felt his mouth quirking up into another warm smile. "You're gonna be incredible! And you totally deserve it, too."

"Aw, thanks. I can't wait to get started." He didn't speak up again until Kevin finished making his drink and passed it over the counter. "Hey, shouldn't you be at your counseling appointment?"

Kevin swallowed and shifted. "It's on Wednesday now," he said. "I rescheduled it to pick up this shift. I feel kind of bad about it, though. Latoya probably thinks I'm avoiding her after last time."

Connor quirked an eyebrow and took a sip of his drink. "Are you?"

"No," Kevin shot back. "Well, maybe. I don't know."

Connor started to respond, but apparently thought better of it when a cluster of students approached the counter. "Well, don't avoid her for too long," he said. "I'll let you get back to work. Take care!"

"See you later," Kevin called. He watched Connor hurry off before he plastered that trademark grin on his face. "What can I get started for you?" he asked the first person in line.

Meanwhile...

Oh no.

Arnold stared down at his phone in shock. Had he read that text correctly?

No, surely not. But then he reread it again, and again, and yet again, each time coming to the same conclusion. This was bad. This was very, very bad. He looked desperately around the apartment, empty save for him and Bailey, who was happily lounging on the floor with her squeaky toy. Where was Kevin when he needed him? Oh, right, at work. Crap. He needed air.

"Wanna go out, Bailey?" he asked. At the sound of her name, she perked up and gave him a curious glance. What was the phrase Kevin used, again? Oh, right. "Walk time!" he said, and she immediately hopped up. Grabbing her leash, he clipped it and then they headed outside. Once they were on the sidewalk, he let her lead him along.

This was nice. Bailey wasn't a puller, so it was a nice, pleasant stroll. Just what he needed. Now all he had to do was figure out how to handle that text—

A rabbit suddenly scurried out of a bush, and Bailey leapt forward. Unprepared, Arnold felt the leash slip out of his hand and watched in horror as she flew ahead, hot on the rabbit's trail.

"Bailey!" he squeaked, rushing after her. "Bailey, come back! Please?" But it was no use; within a matter of seconds, she was out of sight.

"Oh no," he wailed out loud. This was bad. No, scratch that. It was bad before; now it was a disaster. First the text, and now—

"I lost Kevin's dog," he cried, running around in a circle on the grass in the parking lot, overwhelmed. "I lost my best friend's best friend!"

Kevin would kill him. He'd already been pissy since the whole doctor fiasco, and if he came home to find Arnold had lost Bailey, he'd flat out murder him.

"Oh, crap," Arnold said, still running around in panic. "Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!" He had to fix this, but how? Bailey could be long gone by now, or—oh no, what've she'd run into the road and been hit by a car? And then Kevin would see her on his way home, all squashed and dead, and he'd totally—

"What the hell are you doing?"

Arnold froze and turned in the direction of Brynn's voice. She was standing on the sidewalk wearing athletic attire and holding Bailey's leash, while the dog stood panting by her side.

"Bailey!" Arnold exclaimed, running forward. "Oh, thank God; how'd you get her? She took off chasing the bunny."

Brynn shrugged. "She must've lost track of it. I was jogging and she came right up to me."

"Well, good." Arnold heaved a sigh of relief and took the leash. "I thought I was toast there for a minute. I was distracted, and she pulled away so fast, y'know?"

Brynn waved a hand dismissively and started jogging once more. "See ya," she called.

"Wait!"

She had only gone a few paces before Arnold's shout stopped her in her tracks once more. "Yeah?" she asked, annoyance visible on her face.

"Maybe you can help me out," he said. "Something happened, and I don't know what to do."

He must've looked completely lost, because she started back over to him. "What do you mean?" she asked with intrigue.

"Um, well, Naba just texted me." He swallowed nervously. "She wants to have the sex with me."

In a split second, Brynn's expression had changed from one of mild curiosity to one of complete disdain. "Have the what?" she asked.

"The sex, Brynn, the sex!" he waved his arms in the air for emphasis. "And that's like, I mean, it's totally awesome, right? I've always wanted to have the sex. Especially with Naba, 'cause, you know, I love her and think she's hot and stuff."

Brynn quirked an eyebrow, mouth set in a thin, straight line. "Mmhm," she said, spinning on her heel. "Well congrats, bro. Have fun."

"Wait, no, I'm not done! See, the problem is, I'm not really sure how to have the sex."

She halted again and let out a huge sigh of frustration. "Google it."

"Oh, come on, Brynn! Help me out here," he pleaded. "I'm not completely dumb, okay? I know some stuff. It's just, well, I've never done this before and I want to impress her."

Brynn looked up into his puppy-dog eyes and groaned. "Why the hell are you asking me?" she complained. "Seriously, why does everyone keep coming to me with their problems? Am I approachable? What's the reason? No, really, tell me so I can do something about it." Crossing her arms, she added, "Look, I get why you don't want to go to your Ken doll of a roommate for this, but there isn't anyone else you could ask? Anyone other than me? What about Jami?"

"Is she here right now?"

"Shit, no. God damn it; she's in class." Thinking fast, she said, "What about Connor?"

Arnold shook his head. "Connor won't be able to help," he said. "He's only ever had the gay sex, you know?"

"So? His and Naba's friendship is just as freakishly weird as yours and Kevin's. He probably gives her complimentary fistings every time she can't sleep and needs to get one off."

Arnold's jaw dropped. "Connor punches my girlfriend?!" he shrieked.

"Oh my God, no." There were certain people out there who could give you a look so condescending that it made you feel like the dumbest person on the planet. Arnold had always thought Kevin was the ultimate master of that look, but in this moment he realized he was wrong. Brynn DiMarco totally had his friend beat in that area.

"Really?" she continued, dismayed. "Shit, we've got our work cut out for us, don't we?" With one last eye roll, she started up the sidewalk towards Kevin and Arnold's apartment. "Come on, horn dog; guess I'm giving you the sex talk. Is Queen Diva home?"

"Who?"

"Kevin."

"Oh. No, he's at work."

"Good."

Naba pushed open the stairwell door and stepped out onto Connor's floor, then hurried down the hallway in toward his room. She needed to talk to him as soon as possible. When she neared his open door, however, she found that as soon as possible might not be as soon as she'd hoped.

Connor was sitting with one of his residents on the futon in his room. The girl was leaning against his shoulder with a wad of tissues in her hand, crying while he rubbed her back soothingly.

"Sweetie, look, I know it's hard," he was saying. "Everyone misses home when they come to college for the first time."

"Did you?" the girl asked.

Naba winced as she watched Connor tense slightly. "Of course," he replied. "I, uh, I still do. But you'll get through it. I know it's a rough transition, but you're gonna grow and change so much—"

Figuring it was rude to eavesdrop any longer, Naba turned around and headed toward the common floor sitting area. Settling down on the couch, she pulled out her A&P textbook and began reading the assigned chapter.

"Hey." About fifteen minutes had passed in peaceful silence before she started at the sound of Connor's voice. She looked up to see him leaning against the wall, smiling down at her.

"Hi," she replied, shutting her book and standing up. "Are you finished? I saw that you were, well, busy, I suppose—"

"Yeah, I'm free now," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder and leading her back toward his room. "That was one of my residents. She's just feeling a little homesick; she'll be fine." Once they stepped through the doorway, he sat back down on the futon and asked, "What's up?"

Naba groaned and dropped onto the bed. "I did something very stupid," she admitted.

Connor tilted his head in concern. "What happened?"

"I told Arnold I wanted to have sex with him."

"Really? Naba, that's not stupid. We've been over this—"

"Perhaps I should clarify," she jumped in. "I didn't tell him. I texted him."

Connor frowned. "You...texted him?"

"Yes! About an hour ago I texted him I want to have sex with you, just like that, and he hasn't texted back." She pulled up the offending message on her phone, handed it over for him to view, and then held her face in her hands, embarrassed. "I scared him away!"

"Maybe he's just busy right now," Connor said hopefully.

"Busy with what? He said he's at the apartment." Suddenly, she snapped her head back up in realization, eyes widening. "Oh shit, you don't think he's talking to Kevin about this, do you?"

"No, Kevin's at Starbucks. Besides, hopefully Arnold would recognize Kevin probably won't be of much help here."

"Ugh," Naba flopped over and buried her head in the pillow. "I can't believe I was so stupid."

"It wasn't stupid," Connor reassured her. "But, um...that's probably something you should've talked to him about in person."

"I thought this would be easier. It was so awkward otherwise." She sighed and twisted her neck to face him. "Enough about me. Speaking of texts, I didn't mean to blow off yours earlier. Congratulations! I can't wait to see you in the musical."

He grinned. "Thank you," he said. "You have no idea how thrilled I am. I mean, I knew my audition was great, but—I don't know, after Ira said I had no real stage appeal, I kind of...well, you know."

"Well, now you know he was full of shit."

Connor chuckled and opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by the chiming of Naba's phone, signaling the arrival of a new message. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Is that Arnold?" she said, her voice unusually shrilly. "Oh God, I can't read it. What does it say?"

Connor looked down at the screen. "No, it's Brynn," he replied. "It says—oh wow, it says, I'm going to fucking cut you." Brow furrowed, he gave her a puzzled glance. "What'd you do to her?"

"I don't know," she said defensively. "What's her problem?"

Connor shrugged and looked back down at the phone. "What...did...I...do...question mark," he muttered aloud as he typed out a response.

Only a few seconds passed before the phone chimed again. Connor skimmed the text and let out a snort of laughter, clasping his hand over his mouth. "Oh my gosh."

"What?" Naba said impatiently. "Tell me!"

He looked up at her with mischievous glint in his eyes, lowering his hand to reveal a smirk. "Wanna take a guess as to why your boyfriend hasn't texted you back?"

For a split second she just stared at him in confusion, and then as it hit her she felt a wave of both amusement and sheer horror. "He went to Brynn for sex advice!?"

"At least now you know you didn't scare him off."

"Whatever; I don't care about that anymore. Brynn!? He can't handle her! Shit, she's probably showing him how to, I don't know, make lube out of whipped cream or something."

Connor still had that devilish smirk on his face, and Naba squinted in suspicion as he began typing again. "What are you saying?" When he didn't immediately respond, she demanded, "Connor!"

"Teach him how to make lube out of whipped cream for me," he read his response aloud. "There, sent."

She gasped. "You did not send that," she said, standing up and joining him on the futon. "Tell me you didn't actually send that. You did, didn't you? Asshole!"

He merely grinned at her in reply, and then glanced back down at the screen upon the next chime. "She said, Fuck no, the...hmm, apparently the sugar would get all up in your vag and give you an infection. Good to know."

When the phone sounded one more time, he read the sentence and added, "She says she has strawberry lube you can borrow if you want. That's nice of her. I have some, too; it's vanilla. Feel free to use whichever flavor you prefer."

She gave him the most displeased glare she could manage. "I am not borrowing anyone's personal lubricant," she snapped. "That is not something you two should be sharing with other people." When he started to type out another response, she snatched the phone out of his hands. "No way; you cannot be trusted. Ugh, why do I even keep you around?"

"Because you love me."

"Watch it, mister," she said with a playful shove. "Just because I love you doesn't mean I won't kick your ass. The only reason I'm sparing you now is because I like the necklace you got me for my birthday."

"You mean the necklace Arnold got you?"

She smiled. "I know it was you who picked it out," she countered. "Arnold's a sweet man and I love him very much, but no way could he have found that without your help. Now tell me, what was he originally going to get me?"

"You don't want to know," Connor assured her.

"What? Now I really want to know."

"Trust me, you don't," he stressed. "You may not want to sleep with him anymore if you find out. You don't want all this to have been for nothing, do you?'

"Fair enough."

Bailey was at the door to greet Kevin the minute he got home, her tail wagging fiercely.

"Hi girl!" he cooed, crouching down to pet her. He could hear voices coming from Arnold's room but he paid them no mind, focusing only on giving his dog some loving. "How's my Bailey puppy?" He made his way to the kitchen and reached up into the cabinet for her bag of treats.

"Sit," he said.

She did so, ears perked up. Stooping back down, he held out his hand. "Now shake...good, other paw...now high five!" When she tapped her paw against his raised hand, he laughed and pulled out a treat.

"Good girl! Now treat."

She happily chowed down on one of the biscuits, and Kevin gave her one last pat on her head before heading toward his room. It was only then that he really noticed what the voices were saying, and he paused by Arnold's open doorway to find his roommate and Brynn sitting cross-legged on the bed, Brynn chatting away holding a cucumber covered in a lubed-up condom while Arnold stared at her, thoroughly engrossed.

"So by this point she should be completely aroused, real fucking into it, right? So that's when you just go for it, just take her to pound town, and then—"

"Oh, hi, bestie, you're home!" Arnold cut in as he spotted Kevin. "Check it out, Brynn's teaching me how to have the sex. Want to join us? You can learn how to have the sex, too!"

Kevin simply stood there for a few seconds, slack-jawed in shock. "Um, I'm good," he replied once he found his voice again. "I don't know what led up to this conversation, and I don't want to know either. I'm going to my room, and I don't want to hear any more of…" he vaguely waved his hand in their direction. "This."

"Kay, see ya," Brynn replied, unfazed.

Kevin started to step back, but then hesitated. "Uh, I actually need that cucumber for the soup I'm gonna make tonight."

"You still can. Here," Brynn began to peel off the condom, and Kevin quickly held up his hand.

"No, you know what? Never mind. I'll order a pizza."

He turned around and hurried toward his room, making a mental note to avoid any cucumber-related dishes for a long, long time.

A/N: Thanks for reading! All feedback is always appreciated :)