Blunt Force Drama Ch. 01-03

This is my first attempt at writing a novel: 16 chapters, 120,000 words. I would love to hear your feedback. If you are expecting lots of graphic sex, there is some by the end, but the first chapter is strictly PG and the amount of explicit content grows slowly as the story progresses.

Chapter 1

Ouch! This rain actually stings my face. I'm don't think it's just rain.

I hurry up the steps towards the parking lot and the shelter of my car. As I climb the side of the hill, it has definitely turned from a cold rain to ice pellets. Damn, I will probably need to scrape my windshield.

Finally at the top, I step off the curb and onto the pavement. Whoa, this is slippery. I'm going over. Oh fuck, this is going to hurt.

I come to looking up at several people standing around me. Jesus, I wish they would be quiet. But there voices sound weird, kind of muffled. And looking at them, I don't see any mouths moving. Damn it, my head really hurts.

I start to sit up, but that makes everything worse, so I just stay laying down. A normal sounding voice, says "Just lay there, we called 9-1-1. Your head is bleeding pretty badly."

An angelic face looks down at me and I can see her lips move.

"Would everyone else be quiet, so I can hear what she is saying."

I see the other faces look at each other. They seem confused. I'm confused. But my head hurts. Closing my eyes feels better.

I try to cover my ears to keep the voices out. It doesn't help, but I can feel wet in my hair. A warm wet, not this cold ice and rain. I bring my fingers in front of me and look at them. They are all red. I suddenly feel woozy.

"Sir, can you move your toes?"

A deep male voice, a normal voice, brings me back to the world. I open my eyes and see a paramedic leaning over me. I can see the red flashing of the ambulance lights.

I wiggle both my feet. The other voices have dimmed a bit. But the normal one speaks again. I can see the paramedic's lips moving as I hear, "Good, We are going to lift your head slightly to try to get a bandage on to stop the bleeding. Then we are going to lift you on to the gurney. Are you okay with that?"

I start to nod my head, but the shooting pain makes it obvious that that is a bad idea. Instead, I say, "Yes. Am I okay?"

"Hopefully. We will take you in to the hospital to see if you broke anything. You probably have a concussion. And you lost a fair amount of blood."

"I feel funny. And everyone keeps talking without their lips moving. Everyone all at once."

They lift my head slightly. I can feel some pressure around it.

"We are going to put a neck brace on you, just to be safe."

They pull something under my neck and fasten it around. I hear a second ambulance arrive.

"We are going to roll you up and strap you to a spinal board."

Two more paramedics have come up. Three of them roll me onto my side and then back down and I'm strapped to something.

My head is fuzzy and there are way too many voices in it. And it hurts. Jesus, does it hurt.

I'm put onto a cot like thing, then they lift it and me into the back of the ambulance. A paramedic climbs in and sits next to me.

Do these voices mean I'm going crazy? The back of the ambulance shuts; suddenly I only hear one "other voice" clearly. That voice is going through some kind of a medical checklist. The other paramedic gets in the front and now I hear a second voice. It is not nearly as loud as the first one. The soft one is watching traffic, looking for an opening to turn into.

It dawns on me. The clear one is the paramedic sitting with me. The soft one is the paramedic driving the ambulance. I'm hearing their internal dialogues. I can read their minds. Maybe I am crazy now, but those internal conversations make sense.

Thinking about this makes my head hurt even more. I close my eyes and try to ignore the voices. I can drop them down to background murmurs, which is a relief.

All of a sudden, the ambulance is backing up. The door swings open and I'm being wheeled into the emergency room. The voices in my head erupt louder than ever. Many of them are screaming; some in pain, some in fear, some in sorrow, a few in anger. Most of the quieter ones are just tired, with lots of medical jargon I barely recognize.

A nurse is talking to one of the paramedics as they lead me into a room, getting a brief snapshot of my case. We stop in a cordoned off area with curtains around it. I recognize this setup. It is just like the emergency room where my mom brought me eight years ago, when I broke my arm in a fall.

The nurse turns to say goodbye to the paramedics. I hear her inner voice clearly for a moment, She has serious hots for the paramedic who rode with me. I get no sense from him that he recognizes it. It might have just been lost in the commotion.

"My name is Sara. Can you tell me your name?" the nurse asks me.

"Matthew Bergman."

"Are you a student at the university, Matthew?"

"Can everyone just shut up so I can hear her!" I shout.

I close my eyes for a minute and try to focus. I'm able to quiet the yelling down a bit,

"Are you okay Matthew?"

"Yeah, I can just hear everyone. In my head I think. If I work at it, I can make them be quieter. And yes, I'm a junior. Am I crazy?"

"I don't know. Has anyone contacted your family?"

Staring at her, I find I can focus on her inner voice to almost the complete exclusion of the others. It is kind of like trying to listen to somebody at a party. Listening to her inner voice makes it easier to understand her normal voice.

"I doubt it."

"Is there someone we should contact to let them know you are here?

"I guess my mom or dad should know. 784 319 4712."

She is worried about me. Especially that I'm hearing voices.

"I will see they get called in the next few minutes. Do you have any medical conditions we should know about? Any medications you take?"

"As far as I know, I'm a healthy twenty year old. At least until I slipped on the ice."

"Have you taken anything else recently? Drugs or alcohol or pills?"

She is expecting me to say yes.

"No. I was in class, so I was completely sober. I guess I'm just crazy. I do drink some at parties and I have smoked pot, but nothing in a week and a half. And not much that weekend either, just a beer and sharing a joint, Saturday at a party."

"Is it possible that something else was in the joint? Have you had any other strange symptoms over the last week?"

"Nope, everything has been normal."

She is not happy with that answer, but she believes me. Mostly at least.

"I'm going to check under your bandage to see how bad the wound is. The paramedics mentioned you lost a fair amount of blood."

"Oh my god. That is gnarly."

I think that was her internal voice, but I'm not sure.

"How does it look?"

"Not too good. You are going to at least need multiple stitches. Maybe more. I think more than we can do here."

She is worried about the wound. She is worried about me. She thinks I might be crazy.

My head is really throbbing. The concentration to block out the other voices is hard.

She says, "I will be back in a few minutes, Matthew."

She does come back, I think shortly, bringing someone else with her.

"Matthew, this is Doctor Floyd. She will briefly examine you. And determine what our next steps will be."

I'm having a bit of a trouble coping with the two internal voices at once.

"How are you feeling, Matthew?"

I can hear the difference in the voices as I listen, They sound different, if sound is even the right word to use. The nurse is very worried about me. The doctor is skeptical of what the nurse has told her.

"My head hurts like hell. I'm getting a bit nauseous."

"Are you hearing voices still?"

"If I concentrate, I can keep it down to you two, which is manageable. But the effort does make my head hurt worse."

"How do you know it is the two of us?"

"It was only in the ambulance I figured out what was happening, where the voices were coming from. But I can tell you are skeptical of all this. I keep thinking I must be crazy, but all the conversations make sense. You first thought Sara was exaggerating, but you are now thinking of getting a psychiatrist to come check me out. Sara is worried about me. She believes I hear something, but she assumes it is just noise my brain is generating. And she is worried about my wound. I think she called it gnarly.

"Oh, and Sara, you should tell the paramedic you think he is hot. He has no idea you are interested in him."

Sara turns bright red. Doctor Floyd turns and glances at her and she nods her head yes.

"Okay. Let's ignore that issue for now and start with your others. Can you move all four limbs?"

I wiggle each foot and raise each hand, wiggling all ten fingers.

"Good. Let me look at this gnarly wound. Can you sit up a little bit, so I can look at the back of your head?"

I sit up a bit, with Sara helping me. My head reels a bit.

The doctor loosens my bandage at looks. I can hear her inner voice's reaction.

"I told you Sara said it was gnarly. You should have believed her. So I have to get an x-ray and some sort of a scan of my brain to make sure I'm healthy enough for the procedure to clean up the back of my head. And, yuck, there is some gunk from the parking lot in there."

Sara asks the doctor, "Is he right with all that?"

"Yeah, he is. There is no way he should know that. I need to get the orders in for him and then call someone in neurology. I'm not looking forward to explaining this one. Give him two thousand milligrams of acetaminophen and keep him as isolated as you can in here."

She really is dreading that conversation. Maybe I really am reading minds.

I take the pills and try to close my eyes and shut everything out for a while.

Sometime later, I have no sense of time right now, someone comes in and wheels me off. They pick me up and put me on the platform of a machine and the platform slides me into a giant donut like thing. The man who brought me goes away and the technician goes into the next room. I hear her voice over a speaker, but I cannot hear any voices in my head, which is a luxurious relief to me.

The machine makes lots of noise, which does make my head hurt more. After several minutes of the speaker telling me to hold my breath and then to breathe again, the same man comes back and I'm wheeled back to my home away from home in the ER.

Sara comes in to check on how I'm doing. I say I'm thirsty and hungry. She gets me a cup of ginger ale and says she will need to clear any food with the doctor. She is about to head out again, when she turns to me and asks, "Did Andrew have any thoughts about me?"

I realize she is thinking about her paramedic dreamboat when she says Andrew.

"I was just learning to understand individual streams when he was leaving, so I don't know what he thought when he first saw you. He was just thinking about the paperwork he was about to fill out as he was leaving. Sorry."

"Thanks, anyway."

She leans over and gives me a peck on the cheek. She thinks I'm cute and nice. But she still has the hots for Andrew. Oh, well. She is definitely hot in my mind.

They wheel me away for more tests. When I get back, Sara is waiting for me with some graham crackers.

"This is all they will let me feed you for now. Would you like some more ginger ale?"

I nod and regret the movement immediately.

"I have to tell you something, but you may already know. Andrew brought another patient in. I managed to talk to him for a minute before they left, while his partner was being debriefed. We have a date tomorrow night after my shift!"

She leans over and gives me another peck on the cheek.

"That's for pushing me to tell him. I would not have that date without you."

I can see some of the things she is hoping for out of the date. I hope he is ready to have his bones jumped. Man, I wish she thought I was hot. Though the kisses on the cheek are nice.

Doctor Floyd comes back in shortly. There are too many things going on in her brain at once for me to understand any of them.

"Do you know what I am thinking?"

"Right now, you have too many things going on for me to separate them clearly. Something about surgery. You are relieved you made the phone call. You are going to ask me if this is a trick. No, it's not. I would have no idea how to do that, but, even if I did, my head hurts way too much to think about anything like that."

"Okay, I guess I don't need to ask you that. We are admitting you to the hospital proper, I will have Sara put a unit of blood in you here, but they have a room ready for you. I asked them to keep you in a single room if they can. So you will not have a roommate until they run out of other rooms. Your spine looks good, so there is no concerns there. And you will need a surgical procedure to stitch up that gash on your head. They will come grab you from your room for that. And Doctor Chekhov from Neurology will come to talk with you soon. Your voices are her problem now. Good luck."

Sara comes back in and puts an IV in me and connects a bag of blood. A few minutes later, another man, Tim, comes and transfers me onto a new rolling bed. He doesn't talk to me at all, but I can hear his inner voice easily. I feel like I'm getting better at this.

He is wondering what his wife packed him for his dinner tonight. He only has another hour until his dinner break. And he is hoping Becky is on duty this evening in my ward. He definitely has the hots for her.

The disconnect here dawns on me. He is married. Not to Becky. Although I don't think he has acted on his hots. He just likes to see her. And flirt with her. And she flirts with him. This might be trouble brewing down the line. And his thoughts about his wife might as well be about his mother. Nothing sexual or romantic at all.

Becky is at the ward desk, but Julie helps him settle me in to the room, much to his disappointment. He is now planning on chatting her up, while Julie is back in with me. Julie is apparently the head nurse on the ward. She thinks the two of them flirt too much for a good work environment. And she does not like him at all.

I like Julie. She is strict on the rules; Becky is a little afraid of her. But she really cares about the patients.

"So Doctor Floyd says a roommate will bother your concussion."

She is waiting for a response from me, although it wasn't actually a question.

"Yeah. Trying to ignore other people makes my head throb right now. I wasn't like that before the fall."

I knew she was trying to decide if this is related to the injury or if I'm just an extreme introvert. I am an introvert, but not that badly so. It doesn't sound like the ER folks warned her about my new abilities. I will try not to make it obvious.

Just then Becky comes to the room, leading in someone else in scrubs. She is grumpy, because she was having fun talking to Tim. She is expecting him to ask her out any day now. And she does not realize he is married. Now he is a bastard.

Julie speaks up, "Hi Anna, it didn't take you long to find him here. He only arrived five minutes ago."

Julie turns to me, saying, "This is Dr Chekhov. She is a neurologist, I'm assuming she is here to talk to you about your brain injury."

"Thank you, Julie. Once you are finished getting him set up, will you leave and shut the door. I need to talk to Matthew in private."

"Of course, doctor. I don't have anything else that needs to happen immediately."

As she walks out, she is perplexed. She has never been shooed off from her patient like that.

"Matthew, or do you prefer Matt?"

"Either is fine. Matt is easier to say. My mom calls me Matt, unless I'm in trouble, my dad always calls me Matthew."

"So Doctor Floyd made some remarkable claims about your condition."

"And you don't believe her. You think she is usually very reliable, but that is not possible. She must be working too hard. But something on my brain scan was very odd."

"Very good, but you could have guessed all of that. I'm going to think of something and you tell me what it is."

"IV bag."

"I probably made that one too easy."

"Pinocchio."

"Okay, and now?"

"Flamingos. More specifically, you are now thinking of the pink flamingos in your neighbor's yard when you first moved to the states. And that they had a college aged son, named... Ethan. And you had a crush on him. But you never actually had a date with him. You never told anyone about that crush."

"Okay, and now I'm a believer. There is no way you could have guessed that. Or could have known that. I should not have doubted Amy. And this just started when you hit your head?"

"Well, when I came to after I fell, it seemed like everyone was talking loudly at the same time. I couldn't understand any of it, but it made it hard to concentrate on anything. I yelled at them to shut up. I tried to cover my ears, but it didn't help. And I felt something wet and warm in my hair. I brought my fingers back and they were covered in blood. I guess I fainted.

"I didn't realize what was going on until I was in the ambulance. In there, I could only hear the two paramedics. The louder voice was the paramedic sitting next to me, going through some medical checklist. I didn't understand half of what he was thinking about. I could hear the driver worrying about driving. That's when I figured it out.

"It was bad when I first came into the emergency room, because so many people's voices were screaming for so many reasons. Then I found I could focus on one person, hear just their thoughts and mostly block out the others. I started being able to listen to Sara's thoughts and block out everyone else. That is getting easier. I have no problem listening to your thoughts. At least if I'm paying attention. It takes effort to block out someone who is physically close to me.

"Oh and whatever shielding they use to keep everything safe from the first machine they used on me. That blocks me completely."

"That was a CTscan, so x-rays. They shield that room with lead. Interesting."

"I don't know how I would feel having you write a paper about me."

"Okay, can you try not to read every one of my thoughts? Yes, I was wondering whether it would be a good idea to write a paper about this."

"Sorry, that one was pretty loud."

"It is a paper that would either make my career or break it. I have qualms about what it would put you through."

"I am trying not to tell people here if I can avoid it. It makes them weird around me. Although I did give Sara the courage to talk to Andrew and she was so happy that I did."

I am smiling.

"Doctor -"

"Please, call me Anna. If you are going to be reading my thoughts anyway, we might as well have a friendly relationship."

"Anna, I have a non-medical question for you, but I don't have anyone else to ask. Tim, the man who brought me in, I think he was still talking to Becky when you interrupted them so she could bring you in. They flirt a lot, I think. He has the hots for her and she is expecting him to ask her out. But she doesn't realize that he is married. Should I warn her somehow?"

"God, this does put you in awkward situations, doesn't it. I will have to think about that. But I am not sure I am the best relationship coach, either."

Just then, a knock comes at the door.

"Come in," Anna says.

"I am sorry to interrupt you, but Matthew's parents are out here now," Julie says.

"Thank you Julie, I think we are pretty much done in here. Go ahead and bring them in."

"I didn't expect them to come all the way here. They must have gotten in the car the instant they got the call."

"They are your parents, Matthew."

I can hear my mother's internal voice screaming in terror as she walks down the hall. My father does not sound much better, although he has a bit of anger in him, too.

"It's okay guys, I am fine."

"If you were fine, they would not have you in the hospital," my mother says.

"Mr. and Mrs. Bergman, I am Anna Chekhov, Matthew's neurologist. I'm glad to meet you."

She holds out her hand and they each shake it.

"Is my Matthew going to be okay?" my mom asks.

"What did that klutz of a kid do to himself?" my dad asks.

"From what I understand, he slipped on the ice. We had a nasty ice storm. I think the ER was very busy today. He has a significant concussion and he will have to take it easy for a while. And he has some oddities that I'm looking at with his scans. They don't seem to be causing any adverse effects right now."

"You say right now. What is his prognosis?" my father asks.

"To be completely frank, I'm not absolutely sure. I have never seen a patient with quite this combination. I truly expect that he will be able to fully live his normal life soon. But concussions are tricky. Each recovery is different. And because of his uniqueness, I will be keeping an especially close eye on your son's progress.

"Oh, and the surgeon should be by shortly. Matthew had a wound on the back of his head and lost a fair amount of blood. We needed to check that he was healthy enough for surgery before he could have that reconstructed."

"Is there something you are not telling us?" my mother asks.

"That is everything I understand right now. Your son seems to be a healthy young man who will need recovery time. It could be two weeks, it could be several months. But I should go and let you see him."

She is relieved and a little proud of herself for reassuring them without lying. Or spilling my secret.

"Matthew, I will talk to Becky about your issue. And I will be back to see how you are doing in the morning."

She forgets that she didn't have to tell me either thing.

My mother comes over as soon as she is gone and starts to give me a hug.

"Easy, Mom. I can't move much. It makes my head worse."

"Did they give you anything for it, son?" my father asks.

"Just some Tylenol. I guess they can't give me anything else because of the concussion. I'm starving, too. But I guess I can't eat a real meal until they patch up the back of my head."

"How bad is it back there?" my father asks again.

"Sara, the ER nurse, called it gnarly. I guess there is still some stuff from the parking lot embedded back there. But they couldn't do much of anything until they were sure I hadn't broken my back or something like that."

I can tell Anna just told Becky about Tim being married. I could hear her inner voice shouting in rage all the way in here.

"Are you okay, Matt?" my mother asks. I must have winced when I heard Becky.

"Just a little bit of a pang. It is already passing."

My father changes the subject, saying, "So was Sara cute? The nurse who met us first was."

My mother glares at him and kicks him in the shin.

"What, he is an adult. He might as well enjoy his stay here."

My mom is still glaring at him. But she is more upset about him noticing that Becky was cute than him saying anything to me about it.

"Sara was real cute, but she had a thing for the paramedic who brought me in. She was still real nice to me."

When I say that, my father is imagining her giving me a blow job. Is that what he thinks about all the time? No wonder Mom is pissed at him.

"Becky is the cute one here, but I have barely met her yet."

I look at my father, saying, "I gather she just broke up with someone, so who knows, Dad."

He smiles smugly and my mother wants to kick him again. He is happy I'm thinking like that. That I'm becoming a man. Even if I'm studying Art History. I never knew he was that upset about my major. Oh, well. And, sorry Dad, I would not have thought that way if you weren't imagining it.

Julie knocks on the door frame. There is a man of African descent in scrubs standing with her.

"This is Dr Mwagi. He is going to do the surgery on your wound."

"Are these your parents, Matthew?" He has an unusual accent, unusual for my limited experience at least.

Oh my god, his internal thoughts are not in English. I can't understand his inner voice. I can hear it just fine, but it is all gibberish to me.

"Do we need to leave?" my mother asks.

"It depends how squeamish you are. I am going to look under his bandage and then talk to Matthew about what I am going to do. He needs to sign his consent to the procedure."

"We are fine staying," my father announces.

My mother is not so sure, but she says nothing. She is a little confused that she doesn't need to sign the release. She hasn't quite accepted that I'm no longer a child.

He loosens my bandage. I can't understand what he is thinking, but I can understand my parents' thoughts about his reaction. He probably used the Nigerian word for gnarly in there somewhere.

"Matthew, the work will probably take an hour or so. We cannot use anything more than a local anesthetic. Fortunately, that is not an area that has a huge number of pain sensors."

It damned well hurts enough, I think. But I understand what he means.

"Do you think you can lie very still on your stomach for that whole time. Including prep, it might be as long as two hours."

"I can do that."

"And of course, with any surgery there is some risk. But the risk should be very small. Do you understand that."

"Yes."

"Do you have any questions?"

"Will I have a visible scar?"

"You may well have a scar. It is a significant wound. But it should be completely covered by your hair, unless you decide to shave your head."

I can hear my mother screamingYou better not, young man! in her head.

"I don't foresee that being a problem. Thank you."

"Okay, I need you to sign this form that you understand the risk and are authorizing the procedure."

I glance at the form and sign it.

"Someone will be up shortly to bring you down to the OR."

He leaves and my parents chitchat with me nervously. Both are somewhat scared, much more than I ever would have realized without my new ability.

Becky comes in to replace empty IV bag with another one full of blood. She is still scowling. She is thinking about what she is going to say to Tim when he comes up. And about cutting off his balls and stuffing them down his throat. I never realized how much people think about things they don't actually intend on doing.

I try smiling at her, but she is not taking any notice. Still raging too much at Tim. But my father notices the effort and is proud of me. My mother is just worried about the surgery.

My father asks Becky, "Is there somewhere here we can get a meal while he is in surgery? We drove here as soon as we got word and we kind of missed dinner."

"Yeah, the third floor cafeteria is still serving food. They are reasonable," she says. But she does not actually like the food there.

"And don't worry about Matthew, I'm sure he will be fine. Dr. Mwagi is a good doctor."

She is not sure. About me or Dr. Mwagi. Sometimes I just wish I could stay blissfully ignorant.

The surgery is okay. I can't understand Dr. Mwagi, but I can understand the other two in the room. I guess the wound really is ugly. He spends a long time just cleaning things up and then finally stitches me together. The other two seemed quite pleased with how it went, but they are tired.

My mom and dad are in my room a few minutes after I get back. And I finally get to eat a real meal. It's pretty awful, but I'm famished now. My mom wants to spend the night in the room with me, but my father wants to get a hotel room. To let me sleep, he says. But he has other thoughts. He thinks hotel rooms make my mom frisky. Dad, I really don't want to hear about this.

Becky has finally calmed down. Tim apparently brought another patient in while I was in surgery. And Becky let him have it. She feels better about it. But now she is looking for another lead. And she thinks I'm cute. I smile at her and she smiles back.

She has interesting thoughts about me. Do women really want to do those things? But then she thinks that it would probably make my head hurt. And about getting yelled at by Julie. I enjoyed her thoughts, though. A lot. Something I will definitely masturbate to when I get out of here.

I sleep restlessly during the night. I'm getting faint weird imagery. I guess I'm picking up the dreams of the patients in the nearby rooms. And as quiet as Julie and Becky try to be, I can hear their thoughts each time they come into the room; it wakes me up, just like they were talking to me. Becky gives me another dose of Tylenol in the middle of the night, hoping that will let me sleep better.

I wake up earlier than I usually do, feeling better than I expected to, both headache- and sleep-wise. I have breakfast, but it is smaller portions of everything than I really want. The head nurse this morning is a man named Gabe. He is kind, both in actions and in thoughts. It is not an act for him. The second nurse is Denise, another cute woman in her mid twenties. But she is not my type and doesn't have any fun thoughts about me either.

Anna comes by shortly after breakfast.

"How are you doing this morning?"

"My headache is much better. And yes, I still have my ability."

I chuckle momentarily and she looks at me expectantly.

"I could hear Becky's inner voice screaming all the way in here when you told her about Tim last night. It took her a while to calm down, but she had some very fun thoughts about me later that evening."

I just smile.

Anna shakes her head. "This is going to change your life in so many ways. I cannot even imagine."

"I think I was getting glimpses of other people's dreams last night. That was weird. And Dr. Mwagi doesn't think in English. I couldn't understand his thoughts."

"Interesting, but I do, obviously. I moved here when I was sixteen. My first language was Czech. But I had been learning English since I was seven."

"I had not understood you were a high schooler when you had your crush on Ethan until just now."

"Did I think about him again?"

"Yeah, just now, when you were talking about moving here."

"That was not even a conscious thought. That really is prying. I know it's not your fault. But it feels wrong."

"So was Becky imagining giving me a blowjob conscious or unconscious?"

"I can't say. Women are just like men, Matthew. We can fantasize about doing things to someone when we see them, just like I'm sure you do. And damnit, you made me think about that."

"Sorry, although I did enjoy it. And I could kind of see what you were visualizing. That is a first for me. Oh, maybe I did in the dreams I was sensing last night, too, I guess."

"So either it is getting stronger or you are just getting better at understanding what is happening. I should probably be giving you regular brain scans to see if anything is changing in there. But I'm going to have to figure out how to justify them to the insurance company, without saying you have become a telepath. They would probably challenge my medical license if I said that."

"I initially thought I was crazy. Now I'm only worried about people thinking I was weird. I guess anyone who believes me is assumed to be crazy."

"I'm going to discharge you from the hospital today. But I want to keep seeing you. As a patient, Matthew. I may not be able to mind read but I saw that smirk."

"Hey, you thought it!"

She starts up again, trying to ignore me, but blushing a bit. "Anyway, I would like to have you come for a short office visit two or three times a week. I will try to order a brain scan once a week for at least the next two weeks, just to see if anything structural is going on. I may have to call your abilities hallucinations officially, but you and I know what they really are. My office will contact you to schedule the appointments. I do not know when they will be yet, but I will emphasize to them that these appointments are urgent and I will extend my work day if necessary. Do you know how to use MyChart?"

"Whose chart?"

"No, the name of the portal for the medical system is MyChart. It is the easiest way to get me a message. But if the headaches get suddenly worse or something like that, call 9-1-1. Do not hesitate. I have no idea what this is doing to your brain and whether it can hold up to it. I will ask one of the nurses to help you get onto the portal. You will have no problem with it. Do you have your phone?"

"Oh my god. My phone. This is the longest I have gone without checking my phone since my parents got me one. I guess it's in my stuff. Between my headache and all the new experiences, it wasn't something I wanted or even thought about."

"You probably want to see if it is there, I will put a note in your discharge to make sure you are on MyChart."

I see a bag containing my clothes. I pull my pants out and my phone is still in my pocket. There are several messages, waiting for me.

From my mom:

Are you okay Matt?

We just got a call from the hospital

The next message is two minutes later.

we are driving down to see you

text me if you see this

And one from Todd, my you okay bro? Hoping you just got lucky tonight.

I decide I should reply to that. got very unlucky

fell on ice

about to get discharged from hospital

cute nurses though

My dad would approve.

Speaking of which, I can hear them coming down the hallway. Both their real voices and their inner voices. And Dad, I really don't want to know what you were doing with Mom last night. Oh, and now I can see your memory from last night. Jesus. I will never unsee my mom like that. Damn it. And Mom, I really didn't need your POV of doing that to Dad. God help me.

As soon as they come around the corner, they are both thinking about me, which is a relief. But Dad is watching her ass as she runs over to me. Just give it a break, would you, Dad?

"How is my baby doing this morning?" she asks me.

She is in a good mood this morning. Oh my god, is every good mood from -. No, I don't even want to think about that.

"I'm doing much better. They are about to discharge me. I'm going to meet with Dr. Chekhov a few times a week for a while, just so she can monitor my condition. She is going to have me get regular brain scans just to make sure everything is healing properly."

"With all that, are you going to be able to stay in school this semester?" Dad asks.

"I hope so. It depends how much the work gives me headaches and how quickly that fades. It wouldn't surprise me if I have to drop a class or maybe take an incomplete in something so that I can finish up over the summer. But I really want to graduate next spring, like I was on pace to."

"Good plan," he says.

Gabe comes in, carrying a sheaf of paperwork.

"Doctor Chekhov wanted me to make sure you are all set on MyChart," he says.

"I have never used it," I reply.

"It looks like you have your phone. Let me help you setup your login. I don't expect you will have any problems after that."

Getting my account setup is a bit of a nuisance, but after that, it all looks obvious. I have an icon for messaging either Anna or Dr Mwagi.

Gabe goes over my discharge orders from Anna. Stop anything that is giving me a headache. No alcohol or other substances for the next few weeks. My mom is thinking I don't do those anyway and Dad is remembering some college party he was at.

Dr Mwagi has discharge orders for me as well. I should make sure I stay well hydrated for the next few days. My blood volume may still be down. I need someone to check the progress on my wound and change the bandage, every day for a week.

"I don't think my roommate would be cool doing that. I don't really have anyone else."

"You are a student at the university, right? You can just go to the campus health center and they should be able to take care of it."

Everything else seems easy.

++++++++++

Chapter 2

My parents say they will drive me to my dorm and then stay long enough this afternoon to make sure I'm settling in okay. I kick them out while I get dressed. My mom thinks she should be helping me, but she knows enough not to say it out loud.

On the way back to campus, my mom asks me if she needs to write me a note.

"That's not the way it works in college, Mom."

I think about it for a minute and then say, 'Maybe we could stop by the Dean of Students office. I know that he arranged things for John last year when he got real sick. Just in case I need anything."

We park by the Dean's office and walk in. He is meeting with someone else, so we wait for several minutes and then my parents come in with me.

My father takes charge immediately. "My son, Matthew Bergman, slipped on the ice yesterday. We are just bringing him back from the hospital. He is worried he may have some issues with school."

I never realized how nervous he was under the veneer when he did that. Wow. I just thought that he was naturally like that.

The Dean looks directly at me and asks, "How are you feeling now, Matthew? I had a report of a serious fall on the ice yesterday. I get informed every time an ambulance is called. But I don't know anything else about what happened."

"I have a bad concussion, which is still giving me headaches. And I'm real sensitive to crowds. I'm meeting with the neurologist a few times a week for the foreseeable future. Oh, and I had surgery on the back of my head last night -- nothing serious -- but I need someone to change the bandage every day. I can't do it myself and I don't think Todd, my roommate, would be a good choice."

"The health center should be able to handle that for you. And I will send a note to all of your professors explaining that you have a concussion and should be excused for any missing classes this week. I will ask them to arrange appropriate accommodations with you, as are needed moving forward. Is there anything else you need from me right away?"

I shake my head.

"Well, if you realize you need anything, just drop me a note. It was nice to meet you, Matthew. And you, Mr. and Mrs. Bergman."

I thank him and we leave. As soon as we are outside the door, Mom says, "He seems very nice."

Jesus, Mom. You are thinking about how cute he was. Do you have to think about doing that with him. After last night with Dad, no less.

I suddenly remember my car. "I left my car at the parking lot yesterday. I'm sure I'm not ready to drive again. Could we go by there and one of you drive my car back? That way I will have it when I'm ready to drive again."

"How are you going to get to classes without your car, honey?" Mom asks.

Dad is wondering the same thing. He is questioning whether I really needed a car at school this year.

"I will bum a few rides from Todd and see who else is willing to take pity on me. Hopefully I will get better before I run out of favors from friends. I will figure out something else if I need to. My injury is a pretty good excuse. I wouldn't have been able to bum rides like this all year."

My dad hears the message. I tell him how to get to the parking lot where my car is and give my mom the keys.

I come around to the front seat when my mom gets out. My father turns to me and asks, "So, how is it going with the girls?"

"Dad!" I say, rolling my eyes at him.

But he really is concerned about me.

"I'm not a virgin, if that is what you are worried about. But I think it's different now than it was in your day. There just aren't that many casual hookups now. And I haven't found the right girl yet to have a real relationship with."

"That was a nice smile you used on the nurse. She was interested in you."

You have no idea how much, Dad.

I settle back into my dorm room. And my parents get out of my hair. And their libidos get out of my head.

I check my e-mail. I already have a message from Anna or, more precisely, her office. They are suggesting meeting MWF at 4:30 starting this Friday, two days from now. There is also an MRI scheduled for Wednesday at 8AM. I don't have a class conflict, but I will need to figure out how to get there. I reply to them confirming the times.

I try to look at some of my homework that I should be doing, but that just makes my head hurt. I may have problems with school if I can't even read my textbook. I lie down and realize I'm very sleepy. I did not have much sleep last night and none of it was very deep.

I'm awoken by Todd's loud voice when he gets back. He is trying to be quiet, but his inner voice just seems to shout all the time. And it is the most inane banter, the shallowest thoughts I have heard from anyone. His public "Hey bro, wanna get high with me?" persona is about all there is. No deeper thinking. No insecurities hiding down there. He really is just that vacuous.

I briefly explain to him what happened to me. But I jump almost immediately to my most pressing concern.

"Todd, can I ask you to drive me in tomorrow morning for my 9:30? And maybe bring me home after my 2:30? I can't drive for the time being. Not until my concussion calms down."

"Yeah sure, bro. No problemo"

"Thanks. Tomorrow I will start looking for other people to help share the load. I realized a couple of my classes are available remotely, so I may just attend those from here."

"So, did you score with any of the cute nurses?"

"I think one was interested in me, but I was just coming out of surgery and moving at all made made my headache much worse, so I don't think there was much we could have done."

"You had surgery?"

"Yeah, I split my head open when I fell on the ice. You would have liked this. The ER nurse called the wound gnarly. And the ER doctor said I had bits of the parking lot still embedded in there."

"Ooh, that is gnarly. Do you want to get high to help with it?"

"No, Todd. I'm not allowed to drink or do anything else until my concussion symptoms clear. I mostly need darkness and quiet. Riding the bus to campus would be torture for me right now."

I'm trying to remember why I thought rooming with Todd was a good idea when we got dorm assignments eleven months ago. I probably could have gotten a single. I do remember being afraid I would never talk to anyone if I had a single.

We walk down to our usual dining hall. As I walk in, I'm instantly overwhelmed by all the voices in there. I yank Todd back out with me.

"My head can't handle being in there. I'm going to go back to the room. Here is my card. Can you get me a meal to go? Something easy like a burger and fries and then bring it back to the room after you eat. Thanks."

I hand him my meal card and start back to our room. I would not have survived that. Eating every meal alone in my room is going to suck.

The whole evening sucked. The burger and fries were cold. The cafeteria food is marginal when it's hot; cold, it was nigh on inedible. I ask Todd if he can get my food on his way out from now on. It hadn't occurred to him to do that.

Which brings up the second and biggest reason why the evening sucked. Trying to relax and understand what is happening to me while I'm hearing him screaming his inane thoughts non-stop is like, well, trying to impress your date with how sophisticated you are while you have the stooges blaring in the background.

If I'm stuck with him, I may have to withdraw for the semester and ask my parents to come get me. I end up getting out my computer and sending Anna a message. Could you help me argue with the school for getting a single until my head is better or I learn to control this. My roommate is an idiot. I always assumed it was just a kind of funny act, but no. Not a coherent thought in there.

Not sure it will actually do any good, but I feel better for that.

I finally lie down and try to block everyone out so I can get some more sleep. Does he have to yell so loud? Saying absolutely nothing?

I do drift off, but I'm awoken by his dreams every couple of hours. Always some combination of an orgy, with him as the only male, and terror as he is being chased by mysterious men. If I dreamed that all the time every single night, my mind would be mush, too. Needless to say, it was not a restful night.

When he wakes up, his conscious mind is back to yelling absolutely nothing. Dude, you may think you are not getting laid because you are too nice, but you have much deeper problems.

Todd does grab me breakfast to go. French toast sticks, a sausage patty, and an orange juice. Still warm and not too bad. My best meal I have had in two days.

He drives me on to main campus in plenty of time for my 9:30 class, Renaissance Art. It seems like a good chance, because a lot of the time is spent with the lights dimmed and looking at pictures of art as the prof talks about the pieces and why they are important.

Todd drops me off as close to the building as he can and I get out. I'm trying to ignore everyone when I see that angelic face, the one who talked to me when I was lying on the icy pavement. She is gorgeous. How can I not have noticed her before?

I call out to her, "Hey, I want to thank you."

I'm also listening for her voice, trying to drown out everyone else's. She remembers me! She is worried about me. She thinks I'm cute! Oh, god, I'm dying.

I catch up to her and say, "You were the one who talked to me after I fell Tuesday, aren't you?"

"Yeah, are you okay? That looked awful. And so much blood." She shudders thinking about it.

"It was pretty bad. I spent the night in the hospital. They had to do surgery on the back of my head to patch it back together. And I still have a nasty concussion. I have to see my neurologist again tomorrow. Oh, shit. I need to figure out how I'm getting there."

"Are you not allowed to drive right now?"

"No. I still get bad headaches suddenly. And they can make me dizzy and need to close my eyes. Not a great idea when you are driving. I will probably ask Todd, my roommate, but he is already making extra trips driving me to campus."

"What time tomorrow? I might be able to take you."

"Would you really? It's a 4:30 appointment at the hospital. That would be so helpful. Oh, I guess we should know each other's names. I'm Matthew Bergman. And we should probably exchange numbers if you are going to be my ride."

"I'm Angela Lopez, but call me Angie. I work Tuesday and Thursday afternoon/evening and Saturday mornings, so I need a car. But I'm free that late Friday afternoon. My number is 948-302-6157. Text me right now."

I get out my phone and text her, Hi this is Matt

She is really excited to exchange numbers, but I probably didn't need to be a psychic to realize that. I think I'm too excited myself to actually listen to her voice right now.

"I should go on into class. I will text you later to setup a meeting location," she says, hurrying off into the same building as I'm headed.

I just watch her walk away. I'm in love. Then I tell myself, snap out of it Matt. You barely know her and she just feels sorry for you right now. But she thinks I'm cute! And that excitement was not just pity when we exchanged phone numbers.

Sigh.

I should go into my class now, too. I sit near the door, in case I need to leave. Professor Amberson sees me come in and walks over to me.

"I heard what happened. Are you alright to be in class?"

"I am going to try. I may have to leave if it gets to be too much for me. That's why I sat near the door instead of my usual seat. And I may not get this assignment in on time."

"Do your best there and I will not notice the due date. But Dean Fernandez just sent me a note that he needs to talk to you after class."

He is just as curious about why I have to see the Dean as I am, so I don't bother asking.

I try to stay focused on him, to shut out the other voices as much as possible. That has been my best strategy so far. He is mostly thinking about class mechanics kinds of things, taking a mental attendance of the class as people arrive, rehearsing what he is going to say in his head. Plus normal stuff, like thinking about what he is going to have for lunch. And what grading he has to do. And lots more boring stuff. But wow, he does think about art a lot.

Today's topic is the transition of painting from religious icons to portraits and wealthy art patrons replacing the church as the main sponsors of art. I manage to make it about half way through the class before I can no longer hold out the other voices. I quickly grab my stuff and head outside.

It is chilly, so I zip up my coat. That lets me sit on the steps of the building, trying to let my head calm down. I can still hear a hundred voices or so coming from behind me, but they are all pretty soft and I can easily ignore them, a kind of telepathic white noise. My head finally calms down. Sitting here, with the gentle hum in my head, I start to filter through the voices. I'm looking for a specific one. Angie's voice.

As I think about the voices, I realize they have some weird, almost spatial grouping to me. I don't exactly sense a direction on any of them, but some of them are obviously together. I don't have good words to describe this grouping. One group is my class. Another group is taking an intro drawing class. A lot of frustration there. Some of it from who I take to be the teacher.

The third group is relatively small and is drawing as well. Drawing from a live model. I drop in on some of their thoughts. She is pretty. I kind of like seeing her through several sets of eyes. Some male, some female. Most have at least some erotic thoughts about her. I can hear her, too. She is very aware of everyone watching her and she is getting horny. I notice I'm getting an erection. Time to move on.

Sometime I will need to find someone having sex and listen in on them. Ooh, I can see what it feels like for the woman. That would be cool. It occurs to me that I will be able to please women much better, because I will know what they want. What they like and don't like.

But I still want to find Angie. Especially after that last thought. There are a bunch of people that seem to be alone. I skip them.

There's one more class. It's a pretty big class. Maybe thirty or forty students. The teacher is talking about Jane Austen. Lots of people more or less paying attention. And there is Angie's voice. She is mostly paying attention to the teacher. She likes Jane Austen. But she is also thinking about getting my number. And she is getting horny. That's a weird feeling. Her tingling feels different than mine. I guess that makes sense. But it is weird to feel like a woman. And I'm getting excited, so I can feel both at once.

I decide to sit here and wait for her to come out. What if she goes out a different door? Then I guess I miss her today. But we will definitely see each other tomorrow afternoon. She promised to drive me to the doctor.

She does come out this door and she sees me right away. She recognized me because of all the bandaging on the back of my head. Getting my bandage replaced at the health center should be my next stop after the Dean's office.

"Hi, Matt. Why are you sitting here?"

"My head could only handle about half the class before it exploded. I was hoping Renaissance Art would be numbing enough to get through, but apparently not. How was your class?"

I almost asked her about Jane Austen, but I didn't want to answer the question about how I knew to ask about it.

"It's a course on nineteenth century women's lit. We were talking about Jane Austen today. I love all of her works."

"I have to admit, I haven't read anything by her."

"You should. She is great. She inspired me to want to be a novelist."

"You already know what you want to do? I'm an art history major and I have no idea what I'm going to do with that."

"You will find something, I'm sure. Are you a junior, too?"

"Yeah."

She wants me to ask her something, I just can't understand what.

"I have to hurry to my next class. See you at lunch?"

Damn it. She wanted me to ask her about lunch.

"I can't do the cafeterias right now. Too many people. Too much commotion."

"What are you going to eat?"

"I haven't figured that out yet. But I need to go meet with the Dean. I don't know why. And then go by the health center to get my bandage replaced. And you need to hurry. So I will see you later."

I watch her walk off again. She is hurrying, worried about making it to class on time. She really doesn't like to be late, have everyone stare at her as she walks in. But she is also thinking about me. Disappointed about lunch. Worried about what I will eat.

I walk over to the admin building and into the Dean's office. The sign, which I did not notice yesterday, says

Ethan Fernandez

Dean of Students

His secretary recognizes me from yesterday. "He is expecting you, Matthew. Let me check if he is all set though."

Man, she has a million things going through her head at once. All neatly organized. She has the most impressive thought stream I have listened to.

She pokes her head through the inner door. "Matthew Bergman is here for you."

"Send him in."

I walk in and see him still sitting at his desk. He has too many things going on in his head to find anything about me. I'm trying to mostly limit my random eavesdropping in people's thoughts. Prying into everyone's minds feels wrong; that it makes my head hurt more reinforces that judgement.

"Have a seat Matthew. I just need to hit send on this e-mail. And there. How did class go for you?"

"I only made it about half way through before I had to leave. But I did talk to Professor Amberson about submitting my next assignment late. I can't really concentrate enough to write even a short paper right now. But I will get caught up, I promise."

"I do think you will. You have been a good student and your teachers all say good things about you. I had an interesting call from a Doctor Anna Chekhov first thing this morning."

The name is bothering him, like he knows it from somewhere, but he can't place where.

"She said you told her last night that you were struggling to be comfortable with your roommate being there."

"Yeah, I sent her a note shortly after he got back. Just his presence kind of gave me a headache. He is trying to be quiet, but that's not really in his repertoire. I don't want to get him in trouble."

"No, he is not in trouble. Not for that at least."

Oh, I can hear some of that. Todd is skating on thin ice staying in school right now. The Dean wishes he would get his act in gear. I wish I could tell the Dean that there is no act to get in gear. That's all there is to Todd.

Dean Fernandez continues talking. "Dr. Chekhov had some very interesting things to say. And it felt like there were far more interesting things she could not tell me. But she was very insistent that a single would be much more conducive to your healing. She said you are the most unique case she has ever handled."

He is dying to know more and would be happy if I told him. I decline the psychic invitation.

"So I think I have a solution. A student had to withdraw for personal reasons a short while ago, and his single is empty. Would you be willing to move into a single in the Honor's dorm? You do have the GPA to qualify for it. And we will not charge you the usual single surcharge."

"That would be great. I have been trying to figure out how I'm going to get to main campus every day. Todd drove me today, but I don't want to keep bumming rides off him. That makes lots of things easier. Thank you, so much."

He is also happy to be getting me away from Todd. I don't think he knew much about me at all yesterday. I guess he was talking to my professors.

"I will have security drive you over right now. And Sam, your RD over there, will help you pack your stuff and security will bring you back and help carry your stuff into your new room. Does that work for you? Any other problems I can address? That was a good job talking to your professor, by the way."

"I'm still trying to figure out what to do about food. I can't handle the crowds in the cafeterias. Last night and this morning, I had Todd bring me to go meals and I ate in my room, which worked okay. But, to be honest, having to eat all my meals in my room alone is kind of depressing."

"I can see that it would be. Do you know about the FoodMart, next door to here? You could get to go food for yourself and eat outside when it's nice. Maybe have someone eat with you. I can't handle the cafeterias a lot of days, and I'm not dealing with a truly unique concussion."

I don't have to be a psychic to hear how much he wants me to explain.

"I have eaten there a couple of times, but my meal plan only gets me five meals a semester there."

"I will make arrangements with dining services to make that work. Go ahead and eat there for now and I will work on the details."

"Thank you so much."

"Let me know if there is anything else I can do. If you wait outside in the chair next to Janet's desk, someone from security will be there in a few minutes to drive you back to your room."

I sit next to his secretary, Janet is her name I guess. I pull out my phone and text are moving me on to main campus. You don't have to keep driving me or getting me food.

A moment later, I man, will miss you

Where are they sticking you?

In a single in the Honor's dorm. Get some more studying done with me gone, will you

Fat chance. I'm hoping all the girls will come now to enjoy my extra large single!

He is fucking hopeless. And he has no hope of fucking. They know a loser when they see one.

A campus cop comes into the outer office and asks, "Matthew Bergman?"

"That's me."

"I guess I need to drive you to your dorm room now."

In the car, he says to me, "So you're the one that caused all the commotion on Tuesday."

He is a little angry at me, a little resentful that I'm getting special treatment, and a little bit curious.

"Sorry about that. I guess my doc called the Dean this morning and convinced him that I needed to be in a single to recover more quickly. Given that I can't drive anymore and riding on the bus would trigger my concussion symptoms badly, I really appreciate getting moved to main campus. Thanks for helping me."

He seems happy to be acknowledged.

Sam, my RD, is waiting at my dorm for me with a pile of boxes. We walk into my room and he does most of the packing, while I point out what is mine. I'm not real concerned if I miss something. Todd will get it back to me. I pack the drawer that has my condoms and a few other things that I don't feel like broadcasting. I pocket one just in case with Angie. It only takes about a half hour and my stuff is fully packed.

His inner voice is funny. He definitely focuses almost exclusively on what he is doing, with much less background chatter than most people. He did tell the Dean good things about me. But his background chatter is mostly worried about Todd. He thinks I was helping to keep him a little grounded. He suspects Todd won't be back next year. I don't know if he knows something I don't, but the Dean was worried about Todd, too.

He calls security and arranges for my transport back. He wishes me well and I hand him my key for the room.

I get the same cop again and he helps Sam and me carry the boxes to the cruiser and we drive back. He says nothing, but his inside voice is much more positive towards me. It is a marked lesson for me in how much you can disarm people by actually acknowledging their concerns. Of course, understanding their concerns is much easier for me right now.

A woman in a hijab is waiting near the entrance to the Honor's dorm. She introduces herself as Aya Hammami, the RD for the Honor's dorm. She is wondering about me; she has clearly not been briefed on why I'm being moved in. But she seems nice, both in actions and thoughts. And she is truly happy to have me moving in. Not sure what happened, but I can hear the sadness in her about my room's former resident.

She gives me a key and then the three of us move my boxes into the new room. It is a little smaller than my old double, but of course it is just me now. And it is a corner room; I have windows on two sides. Way cool.

I explain to her about my concussion and why I'm being moved here. She explains the rules of the dorm, which are much stricter than my old dorm. No alcohol or drugs in the dorm. At all. Zero tolerance. No loud noise ever. Nothing audible outside of your room between 9PM and 8AM. This all sounds great to me. Unlike my old dorm, I'm allowed to stay during break week if I want. I just have to tell her in advance what days I will be here.

I make my bed and then head back out to get some food then go to the infirmary. I'm walking out the door of the dorm, when Angie is walking in.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, but she is asking the same question at the same time.

"Jinx!" we say in unison. We laugh.

"The meeting with the Dean was to move me into here so I had a single on main campus to make everything easier. Do you live here, too?"

"Yep, the corner room up there. 217."

"Oh my god, I'm 317. I must be right over you."

My heart and mind are racing. I will be able to listen to her thoughts anytime we are both in our rooms. I'm excited about that, but also terrified.

"Have you eaten yet?" she asks.

"No, I have been moving this whole time. I was about to get food at the FoodMart. The Dean is working with dining folks to allow me to buy food there so I don't have to go into any of the cafeterias."

"Let me drop my stuff off in my room then grab to go food from the dining hall. There is a little table area in the first floor here that is always empty. We could eat together there, if that is okay with you."

"That sounds wonderful to me."

Once again, I was too excited to really listen to what her inner voice is saying. It seemed as excited as mine feels to me. I can't believe this is happening.

I get a sandwich, chips, and a soda from the FoodMart. I come back to sit at the table in the first floor lounge. She is back just a few minutes later.

Those few minutes calmed me down enough to listen to her inner dialogue. I'm trying, only partially successfully, to carry on a social conversation while I'm listening to her. She is wondering if I'm going to ask her out. Should she take the initiative? We barely know each other. How far is she willing to take this already?

"Do you want to grab dinner out together as long as you are driving me to the hospital?"

I'm listening to her inner thoughts, while she responds, "Sure" with her actual voice.

But she is trying to decide if this is a date or not.

"My treat," I say.

She is wondering if it is too quick to accept a dinner date. That is a pretty much boyfriend-girlfriend moment. One step from declaring yourself exclusive.

"Think of it as a thank you for the driving."

That relaxed her about it. But she is also disappointed that it is not a real dinner date.

"I don't know how squeamish you are, but I wouldn't mind company going over to the infirmary and back. If you have finished your lunch."

"I'm a bit squeamish, but I can give you moral support while you go there. If it takes too long, I will have to leave. My next class is at 1:00."

She is actually worried about the time of going over, but she wants to be with me and seem supportive.

"If it is tight on time, you can leave whenever you need to. I hate getting to class late and have everybody staring at you."

"I know, isn't that the worst!"

Home run with that comment.

"Shall we go?"

We start walking over together. She is feeling very positive and I decide to take a chance. She is not actively asking for it, but I bump her hand with mine. She is trying to decide if I'm trying to hold her hand. She is hoping I am. Knowing that, I do grab hold of her hand. She clutches tightly back on mine.

Courting is so much easier with telepathy.

But I'm too excited holding her hand to even vaguely read her mind any further. I just enjoy the feeling of walking across campus holding her hand. I'm in seventh heaven.

The infirmary knows about me -- Dean Fernandez or maybe Janet was really thorough in making sure everything will work.

Angie leaves as soon as they take me back. It takes about five minutes to change the bandage. I wander back to my room and start on unpacking before my next class starts. Soon, I realize I need to get going for my next class. Once again, I run into Angie coming in as I'm leaving. We are not surprised to see each other, but we are not sure how to greet each other yet. Should it be a quick hug, a quick kiss, or just saying hi. She seems torn internally as well, so I play it safe and just say hi.

"Dinner tonight?" I ask.

But I already know the answer before she says, "Can't, it's one of my work nights."

She wonders if I even listen to her.

"That's right. I knew that. I don't think you said where you work."

"I'm a cashier at my grandfather's store."

"What time is your first class tomorrow?"

"Not until ten. It makes the late night not quite so bad."

"My first class is at ten as well. Can we do breakfast tomorrow?"

"I usually don't eat breakfast."

She is not avoiding me, which I would have worried about.

"Would you like to keep me company while I eat something? I can't make it through the day without something for breakfast."

"That sounds good. Same place around 9:30?"

She is thinking of having to get up early, but she wants to do it. And she is starting to think about what she wants to wear tomorrow. Including fancy underwear, in case. I like that train of thought.

"Sounds good, see you then."

We go our separate ways again. This is an intro psych class that I'm taking to fulfill some gen-ed requirement, I don't remember which. It sounded like the best option when I talked things through with my advisor. Tuesday's class got cancelled at the last minute or I would not have been walking to the parking lot in the ice.

The professor checks in with me here as well, but no message from the Dean this time. I do warn him that I will be late on the next assignment and he says he understands. I make it about three quarters of the way through the lecture before I have to bail on it.

This time, I go back to my room and just collapse on my bed. I think about Angie for a few minutes before falling soundly asleep. The best sleep I have had since the fall. It is dark when I wake up. I head over to FoodMart to get something for dinner, bringing it back to the same table Angie and I ate at for lunch. I hear background voices in my head, but my focus on Angie keeps them at bay. I see her face in my memory's eye. For a moment, I can hear her inner voice, seemingly at work. It surprises me enough to break the moment. Did I really just remote sense her? I don't even know exactly where she is. Maybe I just remembered her voice like I can remember her face. And I can visualize her doing things that I have never seen her doing. I will have to consider this one.

I go back up to my room and lie back down. After two very poor nights of sleep, I'm very tired, even with my earlier nap. I'm asleep before I even have a chance to think about anything.

I'm awoken by Angie's voice. At first, I think she must be in my room. But it is her internal voice and I think she is back in her room a few feet below me. The floor/ceiling combination seems to offer little psychic insulation. She is tired, thinking about her long shift at work. She is taking off her clothes. She pulls on a night gown. It is full length. Feels like flannel or something like that. She is thinking about her homework she needs to do in the morning. Then she remembers promising to sit with me while I eat.

I realize that she wasn't worried about getting up in time to meet me. She was worried about getting up in time to keep up with her school work and then sit with me. She is an early riser. I will try to suggest that she can come out and work at the table while I'm eating if that would be easier on her.

Thinking about that schedule has made her think about me. She is remembering holding hands, how nice that felt. She is now imagining kissing. I don't think she has kissed many times. She is curious what it will feel like. She is getting horny. She is imagining me touching her breasts, pinching her nipples. She is doing to herself what she imagines what I would do to her. I'm trying to remember this, understand exactly what she is expecting so I can do the right things when I get a chance. I'm also getting very horny.

She is now imagining my hand going to her pussy. I feel her hand going to her pussy, to her clit. Her pussy is sopping wet. I'm stroking my own cock as I listen in to her self satisfaction. I can feel her orgasm coming close. And she erupts. That is more than I can handle, and I reach my own climax and erupt. Harder and higher than I ever have. I can feel the intensity of her orgasm in juxtaposition to mine. I may be the only person ever to have two distinct orgasms at once. I liked it.

She is lying down now, trying to go to sleep. She is back to remembering walking over to the infirmary together, hand in hand. She is floating on cloud nine as she drifts off to sleep. I can feel her elation and it makes me feel good, too. I clean up the mess I just made, then quickly get back to sleep myself.

I had an odd mixture of dreams, some hers and some mine and some that combined the two. I wake up in the morning in a really good mood and feeling rested for the first time in three days. I take a shower and pick my nicest everyday shirt. I realize I haven't heard Angie yet. I listen more carefully and I hear her reading her text book and making notes. She is very organized in her work and stays focused. But her school work thoughts are almost whispers, especially compared to Todd's yelling. I don't really understand what that means, but it is how I perceive them. I have lots of things to talk about with Anna tonight.

I have a 10AM, an 11AM, and a 1PM class today. The 11AM lecture is remotely accessible and recorded, so my plan is to skip it. I don't think I have any prayer of making it through two straight classes right now. I realize I should probably send the 11AM prof an e-mail explaining my plan and my immediate inability to do homework. Feeling better about getting that out of the way, I go out to grab something for breakfast. I'm disappointed to see that all they offer for breakfast is breakfast sandwiches, not my favorite. I can eat them for now, but I will have to figure something else out eventually.

I come back to the table and Angie is already sitting there.

"You really never eat anything for breakfast?" I ask her.

"I had a granola bar when I got up."

"How early do you get up?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"I got up at 6:10 this morning. I usually let myself sleep in until 6:20."

"What do you do with yourself all morning?" Another pro forma question.

"That's when I get most of my homework done. I had to get up early so I can come out with you."

She is a little embarrassed to admit this.

"I will tell you what. If we keep doing this," I start to say. My own thoughts are interrupted hearing her mild panic that I'm going to end these.

I continue, "And I sure hope we do, why don't you bring some work out with you. My biggest thing is just to have you sitting here with me. I would rather have you doing work out here with me than having to get up earlier because of me."

Big bonus points with this one. She gets a big smile, even bigger because it was not only me caring about her, it was also a relief from her momentary panic.

She comes over and gives me a hug. Our first hug. "Thanks for caring about me!"

And that got my heart racing too much to listen any further to her inner voice. Even blinded for the moment, I decide to push forward now to not lose any momentum.

"I think about you all the time. I fell asleep last night thinking about you."

She blushes. I can hear this one. She is remembering masturbating thinking about me before she went to sleep. She is getting horny, but is also horrified that I guessed what she did.

"It's okay that you might have thought about me, too. I'm glad you did."

That did manage to assuage her negative feelings a bit. She is now thinking about us sleeping in the same bed. Maybe even tonight.

I think I need to give her an out. She is in a spiral that is only going to embarrass her again and again.

"We should probably head to class. Neither of us likes being late. Back here for lunch?"

"I have an eleven as well. I will go straight to the cafeteria and then here, so it should be a little after noon."

"I have an eleven, but I'm going to watch the recording later. I don't think I'm up to two straight classes yet. I haven't even managed to make one complete one. So I will rest for a while at eleven and then grab my food at noon and meet you here. Bye."

"Bye."

We both want to give the other a kiss, but she is also afraid of this going too fast, so I let it go.

I do make it through my 10 then head back to my room. I check my e-mail, my prof at 11 is a little grumpy but she will go along with my plan in the short term. But don't let it go on too long

I relax for a while to let my head rest until noon. I'm hoping by next week I can make it fully through all my classes except the 11AM. And watch all the recordings for that one before the next class. I promise myself to watch the two I have missed before Monday's class.

I get myself going in time to grab food for my lunch with Angie. I'm sitting at the table when I see her come in carrying her food and her backpack. My stomach and my heart are doing flip flops every time I see her now. And I lose my ability while they do. But I'm so happy. And she looks so happy, too. Which starts a whole other round of emotions going. I really like knowing I make her happy.

"How were your classes?" I ask her.

"Okay, Neither of these are my favorites. Other than the lit course yesterday morning, it's kind of a mediocre set of courses this semester. But the Nineteenth Century Women course has been my favorite I have taken. I will have to see what she is teaching next semester when we sign up."

"Yeah, the right teacher makes all the difference. I'm kind of having the opposite semester, at least I was until Tuesday. I like all of my classes, but none of them are great. I didn't think I was going to like Psych, but my advisor kind of brow beat me into taking it and I'm enjoying it. You said you want to write, are you an English major?"

"Yeah, but they make me take too many kinds of lit. I kind of have a type of literature that I like. Some of it is just weird to me."

"Like what?"

"I took a medieval literature course, you know Chaucer and Mallory and the like. I'm taking a Japanese literature course now. It's okay. It's my course this afternoon. And I still have to take a course on sexuality in literature next year. I'm kind of dreading that."

She really is. For some of the thoughts she has about me, she is more of a prude at her core than I had realized. Somethings may be more challenging than I was anticipating.

"Yeah, I have to take courses from multiple regions. The African Art course was interesting, but most of it was not my cup of tea. And lots of time periods, but I guess it is called Art History for a reason. And there is lots of sex in art, almost its entire history. I have to admit, I'm toying with taking the Erotic Art course next year."

She blushes. And it makes her a little nervous about me. She is worried that I am some kind of perv. Shit. Shouldn't have said that.

"But I might not. Are you going for honors?"

She lights back up a bit. That helped.

"Yeah, I will probably try to find a hook for something to expand upon in my Nineteenth Century Women's Lit course. Maybe Jane Austen. But I will definitely go for honors. I think it is an expectation for everyone in the dorm."

"My advisor is pushing me to do it, but I don't know what I would do it on. It's kind of like this semester. I like all of it, but nothing is really special to me. Oh maybe, that's an idea. Thinking about my concussion. Maybe I can try to look at the view of injury or head injury or pain in art somehow. It seems like there should be something there and I have a whole new perspective on that now."

"Does it hurt that much?"

Now I have the sympathy working for me.

"Not right now. But a lot of the time, yeah. Worst pain I have ever had in my life."

"I don't mean to pry, but what was going on when you told everybody to shut up right after you fell? Nobody was talking. It was really quiet."

"I could hear all sorts of noise in my head. I didn't know what was going on."

"Has that gone away?"

"Only partially. Don't worry, I'm pretty sure that I'm not crazy. But that's why I have to keep going back to the neurologist. She thinks my injury is the most unique one she's ever seen and she wants to track it carefully."

Now I have Angie worried.

"It's why I have to stay away from crowded places. So it got me here with you. And it always seems to feel better when I am with you."

I put out my hand and she holds it. She is a little worried still, but is much happier. And she really likes holding my hand. We sit quietly holding hands and looking at each other. If this isn't love, I don't know what is. She is thinking the same thing I am.

I look at my watch. "Oh, I need to get off to my class."

"I have Japanese Lit at two."

"So should we meet here around four so you can take me to my appointment?"

"I will see you then. Bye, I guess."

Still this awkwardness of how to greet and say goodbye. We both want to be doing more than she is ready for. And now I realize just how far out of her comfort zone we already are.

"Bye. I will see you in a few hours."

I walk over to my last class of the week, thinking about her the entire way.

The fifty minute classes are much more doable for me right now than the seventy five minute classes. And I think I'm getting better at blocking out the hum around me. At least I'm not taking any big lecture hall courses. I don't think I could handle one of those this semester, even for a few minutes, let alone an hour, give or take.

When I get back to my room, I decide to just lie down and let my head relax for a good half hour, doing nothing. Then I decide to watch the recording of Wednesday's 11AM class. I have a few questions I would have asked during the lecture, so I make a note of them. I like watching the recording, because I back up occasionally to hear exactly what she said.

I'm one of those annoying students who likes to ask the teacher questions. I want to understand what they are saying, sometimes I don't fully get it. I think the teachers appreciate me doing it. And I suspect some of the other students who had the same question do, too. I have seen some of them nodding their head right after I asked.

It is now almost four, so I head down to the lounge area to wait for Angie. But she is already there.

"Thank you so much for taking me. I guess I would have gotten an Uber or something, otherwise."

"It's not a big deal. I have a car. How long is your appointment?"

"I think it is a half hour, but this is my first one. Maybe we should go ahead and go. I realize I don't actually know where her office is. She just came and saw me in my hospital room."

She grabs a book that is sitting next to her, explaining, "I can do some of my reading while you are in with your doctor."

"Good plan," I say, offering her a hand.

She gladly accepts it and we walk hand in hand to her car. She parks in the same parking lot I had fallen in. That makes sense, of course, it's why she was there when I fell. It is a weird feeling walking up these steps again. At the top, there is a big portion of the pavement that has a red tinge to it. I shudder unconsciously when I see it.

"Don't look at it. I know I can't. It looked so awful with you lying there in that pool of blood."

I see the image of me she is remembering. It is gruesome. But I get some of the context of that memory, too. She had been watching me just before I fell because she thought I was cute. This is not just a sympathy reaction to my fall. She was interested in me before I fell. This tidbit of new information makes me feel better about our relationship.

We end up getting there twenty minutes early, but we sit and chat until I'm called in. We decide to go to a mid-level burger place right after, for my dinner treat.

I'm escorted into Anna's office. She looks up at me and smiles, "How are you feeling Matthew? You look pretty chipper. Happy."

"Try in love."

"When did this happen?"

"Yesterday. She is the woman who first talked to me after my fall. I saw her again yesterday and tried to thank her and things have just gone really well since then."

"Aided by your ability?"

"It does make it easier. I have been able to address some of her concerns and move at the pace that is right for her. The funny thing is, every time I see her, I'm too excited to actually be able to pay attention to her voice at first. There have been other things I have noticed with her as well, about my abilities that is. Yesterday evening I managed to read her thoughts briefly while she was at work, all the way across town."

"That is new. Any other new abilities?"

"I can see what people are thinking about sometimes. My first time was my parents coming back to the hospital right after you left. They apparently had sex that night and they were both visualizing it. Things I can never unsee."

Anna laughs.

"It is really weird how different people's thoughts work. Some people think about one thing at a time. The Dean's secretary has a very ordered mind, but she is always thinking about a million things at once, but nothing at all in some sense. And my ex-roommate's mind thought about nothing, but his mind yells all the time. Thanks for getting me moved to a single, by the way."

"It didn't take much. Your dean was very concerned about you."

"He is also very curious about what is going on with me. You piqued his curiosity big time. Oh, the move turned out super well. I have slept really well in that room. But the best part is, Angie, my new girlfriend, has the room directly below mine."

"Where she is easy to listen to, I guess."

I blush. "Yeah, I do kind of spy on her. And, um..."

"Spit it out Matthew."

"I kind of listened to her mind while she masturbated thinking about me. I came at the same time she did. Having two different orgasms at the same time is an unreal sensation."

"I bet it is. Did you feel all of her sensations, not just her conscious thoughts?"

"Oh my god, yes the sensations. Wow."

Anna is getting horny thinking about this.

"That was quite a coincidence that you got a room so close to hers."

"I didn't have anything to do with it. And before you say it, I know you are thinking it, I had nothing to do with her interest in me. I can only read minds, remember, not control them. And I realized on the way over here that she had been watching me before I fell because she thought I was cute. That is why she was there to speak to me when I came to."

She is thinking that it is fortunate I only have the power to read minds. She doesn't think I'm ready for any more power.

"And I heard that. I don't know if I would want the ability to implant ideas or control people. But I think I'm being pretty careful with how I use my abilities."

She is mentally grumbling that I'm responding to questions she hasn't asked and might never have said out loud.

"I'm sorry. I can't help but hear what you think. You have a very clear mind to me. Oh, thinking about coincidences, what was your neighbor Ethan's last name? Fernandez, that is what I thought. Like Dean Ethan Fernandez."

"I was going to tell you to stop skipping my active participation in this conversation. But is that really him?"

"I think so, he knew an Anna Chekhov when he was younger. He didn't remember where or when quite last time I met with him, but it was about when he was in college. And he is not married and I have the sense he is not in a serious relationship right now, at least as far as I can tell. I will get you a bit more info next time I talk to him. He seems like a great guy, by the way. And my mom wanted to jump his bones."

"You know, it is not your responsibility to use your ability to play matchmaker or prevent heartaches."

"I know. But it feels like the right thing to do when an obvious opportunity arises. Should I have let Becky get burned by Tim?"

"No and thank you for looking out for me. It just feels weird. I assume you have not told your girlfriend about your powers?"

"No, you are the only one who knows. Oh and I guess Sara and Dr. Floyd from the ER. But I don't see them anymore. I wonder how Sara's date went Wednesday night?"

"I forgot about your matchmaking for her, too. But to more serious concerns, how are classes going?"

"I had to leave early from both classes yesterday. But I made it through two of mine today. Of course they are twenty five minutes shorter than yesterday's classes. And I skipped one altogether today -- I have two back to back and there is no way I'm making through both of them like that. The second one is recorded, so I will watch those. Earlier today, I watched the class I missed on Wednesday."

"Another thing I realized yesterday when I had to leave class early. I was sitting just outside the building -- the fresh air makes my head feel better. I could hear all the voices in the building. But I could tell which ones were close to each other, as in the same class room, and which ones were distinct. So I could identify the four classes being taught at the same time. And see each individual, professor or student. And I have learned to focus in on any one voice to shut out the others. But only until the headache starts in earnest."

"So how would you summarize your current status regarding headaches?"

"I get them regularly, five times today so far. Mostly dealing with being around too many people. Sitting by myself in my room lets them calm down pretty quickly. Or sitting outside, fresh air seems to help. And being with Angie."

"You really are smitten, aren't you. How far has the relationship gone?"

"We haven't even kissed yet, but that will come soon. She is debating inside herself whether we should or not. She is really quite prudish. I'm not sure she has ever kissed anyone. But she really likes holding hands. So do I, for that matter. And she keeps me company almost every meal, which is nice since I would be eating alone otherwise.

"As I said, I'm sleeping really well in the new room. I slept like shit in my old room. But my old roommate had really weird dreams."

"Do other people's dreams wake you up?"

"His did. Every time he dreamed, I'm guessing. It meant I got very little sustained sleep. The only dreams I hear now are Angie's, probably because I have become very attuned to her thoughts. Last night, I had a mix of her dreams, my dreams and some that were a blend of both. Her dreams and my dreams feel very different to me. I slept through them, as if they were all my dreams."

"Okay, I should do some basic tests on you to lay a baseline. Things like pupil responses, reflexes, word recognition speed, memory. I may add more next week as I can figure ways to do the tests without me in the loop. All the tests need to be blind to me."

We spend about fifteen minutes on the tests. When we are done, she asks me, "Is there anything else you want to ask me or tell me before we are done?"

"I may experiment with trying to read Angie's mind at a distance tomorrow morning. It happened last night when I was eating alone, at the table we usually eat together. I was thinking hard about her and suddenly I could hear her inner voice, sounding like she was at work. It surprised me so much, I lost the connection and never really tried to get it back."

"It will be interesting to see what the distance limitation is. Given that the lead seemed to block the signal, it must be something physical. So I would expect the strength to drop off as the square of the distance. But that should make hearing her at miles impossible. Is she particularly loud?"

"No, she is slightly soft usually. She is very soft when she is studying. I could barely hear hot from my room this morning when she was studying before she kept me company while I ate."

"Would you like me to walk out and meet her, Matthew? That is completely up to you. I'm sure you can tell I'm curious about her. But I really want you to make that decision, independent of what I want."

"I think I would like you to meet her. You are really the first person I get to show her off to."

"Okay, let's go out and you can introduce us. You obviously will know my reaction to her, whether I want you to or not."

As we head into the waiting area, I hear Angie's soft inner voice as she is reading more of her novel. She hears me coming and looks up and everything changes. She is so happy, so excited to see me. She thinks about how handsome I am. Hmm, I've gone from cute to handsome. I'm pretty sure that's a promotion.

"Angie, this is Dr Anna Chekhov."

Anna reaches out a hand and shakes Angie's hand.

"Matthew has told me how much time you two have started spending together. I want to ask you a favor. If you notice anything changing about Matthew, can you give me a call? Here is my card."

Anna didn't warn me about this and somehow I missed it. She is learning some trick to hide things from me. I can hear her thinking about that, I think intentionally telling me, You didn't see that coming, did you?

She told me to listen for her reaction purely to make sure I heard that. How did you do that. Should I try to beat it or not?

"Should I be worried about him?"

She did make Angie scared though, which pisses me off. I guess Anna can read my body language enough to recognize that emotion in me, and I hear her inner voice tell me, Calm down, Matthew. I wanted to come out and ask her about this anyway. For your safety. You are my patient.

"No. He should be fine. But his is a very unusual case, so I want to be extra careful. And I think we both want to make sure Matthew has the best outcome he can."

"Is there anything I should specially watch for?"

"Anything you notice as a change in his behavior, his facial expressions, his memory. I understand you see much more of him than anyone else. So you are doing him and me a big favor if you keep an eye on him."

I get another message from her, See, I can be a matchmaker too.

I laugh a little bit out loud.

"I don't think watching out for you is funny!" Angie says, sternly.

"I wasn't laughing at that, it was just something that popped into my head as she was saying that. I will definitely be a cooperative patient under your care, nurse Angie."

I can hear Anna laughing in her head. And apologizing to me. She knows exactly what I was laughing at. She does a good job at keeping a poker face as she sends me messages.

I say goodbye to her as she sends me one last, She is cute. You two look good together. Good luck.

Then I hear one I don't think was meant for me. I wonder if he will find out if that is my Ethan?

As we head to the car, she asks, "Is doctor, um.." She looks at the card in her hand. "Doctor Chekhov telling me the whole truth? Is there something more wrong with you than either of you have told me? She seems overly interested in your case."

"I think she is interested in my case. I told you about the noise I hear in my head. My understanding is that I have a very different manifestation of symptoms than anything she has ever seen. She expects it to take a normal trajectory, but it is new territory, so she is being very cautious. She actually caught me by surprise with that."

"Why were you introducing us then?"

"Because you are important to me and she seems to have kind of adopted me. She is the entire reason I got moved to Honor's dorm."

She is happy about her being important. Very happy.

"What exactly did you tell her?"

I'm trying to listen closely to hear if I can tell her what I really said. But it is nothing that she is expecting, so I'm getting no guidance. Do I risk saying this? Will I scare her off? I have to say it.

"I told her I thought I was falling in love."

She freezes in place. Her inner voice is so overloaded it just sounds like static or feedback or something that I can't quite describe.

Then she reaches over and hugs me, saying, "I think I'm falling in love, too. I have read about this since I can remember, but this is the first time I have felt it."

I put my arms around her, pressing her against me. "It's my first time, too."

We stand at the edge of the parking lot, holding each other. I cannot get a read on her at all. I don't know if I'm too excited or she is. But I cannot make out anything coherent from her inner voice.

My stomach rumbles, breaking the moment. We both laugh and I say, "I guess we should go get dinner. Remember, this is on me."

We hold hands the rest of the way to the car. All I can get from her inner voice now is repeated, He says he loves me. I almost worry if she is safe to drive.

++++++++++

Chapter 3

The drive forces her attention enough to break her out of the loop. At dinner, she is mostly normal, other than very happy and pretty excited. And she is starting to wonder if we should kiss or not. I really want to kiss her tonight. I hope so.

On the way home, she seems to have concluded that it would be appropriate for me to give her a good night kiss before we go to our rooms. We walk hand in hand back from the parking lot to our dorm. We decide I will eat a late breakfast on my own, but we will have an early dinner tomorrow together after she gets back from work.

I walk with her to the door of her room. She gives me another hug, then I ask her, "May I kiss you goodnight?"

"Yes, I would like that."

We kiss. Not too passionately, but it is wonderful. I hold her for a minute during the kiss then break off, saying, "Good night and sleep well. Have a good time at work and I will see you when you get back."

"You have a good night too, Matt. I can't wait to see you tomorrow."

As soon as the door is shut, I'm almost sprinting up the stairs and into my room. At first, I can't hear her. And then I realize, she is studying in her quiet studying voice. I'm disappointed. No, that is not nearly bad enough. I'm devastated. Our kiss meant so little to her that she forgot about it and is studying two minutes later.

Then I hear her inner voice shoutDamn it! and I hear the sound of a text book slammed shut, hard enough to be easily audible a floor away. Certainly beyond the rules for the dorm.

I can hear her inner voice as she is remembering the Rachel Weisz scene in the first Mummy movie, where she is trying not to moon over the kiss Rick gave her. Angie was studying to fight off her feelings about the kiss. She is embarrassed about masturbating thinking about me yesterday, especially that I might have guessed that she had done that. And maybe I masturbated thinking about her. She is proud (and horny) about that, but also a little sketched out by it. For someone who reads a lot of books with implied sexuality, she really isn't very comfortable at all with the reality of it. No wonder she is dreading having to take a sex in literature course next year.

Then I hear, And he said he loves me. That pushes all the squeamishness aside. She is mooning in LaLa land now. I think she is hugging her pillow, pretending she is hugging me. And then she is reaching down and unfastening her jeans. And her hand is reaching in as she is pretending it is my hand. That is right, Matt, touch me right there. That feels so good. Don't stop. And she is already climaxing.

Man, she went from zero to sixty in nothing flat. I couldn't even get my cock out before she had come. She must have had some seriously strong desires being pushed down. That gives me hope that maybe she has a lot of sexual desire all bundled up in her if I can just get past that prudish crust.

While I wait for the crust to crack, I still get to spend time with her. I can live with that.

And I'm off, mooning on my own now. I want to hug my pillow pretending it's her. I momentarily wonder if I'm the one mooning or I'm just channeling her feelings now. I never had the physical release, but I still feel a post-orgasmic bliss, having felt her orgasm just as if it were mine. But hers feel different. Not only because they are remote, but also because she is a woman. It just feels different. I don't want to eavesdrop on a guy masturbating -- I guess I feel like that would be gay or something -- but I think I know what that would feel like. I guess I'm assuming all guys feel orgasms the way I do, but maybe they don't. But her orgasms come from parts of her body I don't have. I suppose it would be even weirder the other way. I at least have body there. If she could feel my orgasms, feel my balls erupting, it would be a phantom appendage. Hmm, I know about phantom limb syndrome. That must be what it is like.

Listening in on her again, she is back to school work again. She is a much more dedicated student that I have ever been. And she works three days a week. How does she do that?

She inspires me to try to get something done. I get out one of my textbooks. I find if I take regular breaks, like five minutes of reading then five minutes of rest, I can get the reading done. Not sure I'm up to writing seriously yet, but this is progress.

I finish an entire reading assignment, but I'm tired. Something between the concussion, the headaches, and using my ability is tiring. I turn out the light and go to sleep quite early for me. As I drift off, I can feel Angie still doing school work downstairs.

I sleep more than twelve hours, straight through. I listen downstairs, but I hear nothing. She is probably already at work. I take a shower, then go grab some food. I decide not to eat at the table in the lounge; I already discovered that makes me miss Angie too much, I eat in my room, watching the recording of yesterday's 11AM lecture. I get a few more questions and decide to send a note to my professor with the questions from the two lectures.

Feeling good about that, I look around my room. Most of my stuff is still in boxes. I spend about an hour getting settled in properly. I'm not sure what to do with the boxes.

I look at the clock. Still a few hours til Angie gets off work. And I bet she wants to study for a while when she gets back. Maybe I can talk her into studying together. In the mean time, I decide it's a nice late winter day out there and I should get some fresh air. And a little exercise.

I go by the health center for my daily bandaging then walk a loop around main campus, listening in on people as I walk by. I see a couple sitting together on a wall, leaning against each other, very much in love. I like hearing their thoughts, hers much more wholesome than his, which focus on his hopes for tonight.

I hear two different girls checking me out. I never knew girls thought I was that cute. But at least some of them do. And a couple holding hands walks by going the other way. This time he is the one with wholesome thoughts. I can't tell if she is simply imagining fucking him when they get back to his room or she is making a plan.

Most people are pretty cheerful on a pleasant Saturday afternoon. Several people are stressed about a course (or courses in two cases), but I think it is the time in the semester when people are the most relaxed about school. One guy has been crying because her girlfriend just dumped him. A girl is fuming at her boyfriend, who she thinks is cheating on her. Another guy is trying to decide if he can tell his parents he is gay.

Overall, an interesting slice of life. Other than Angie, and I guess the one appointment with Anna, I haven't really talked to another human being in two days. But this walk and listening to people made me feel connected to the human race again, even with my social isolation. I need to keep taking these walks.

On my way into the dorm, I see Aya.

She asks "How are you settling in?"

"Pretty well, I just finished unpacking. What should I do with the empty boxes? Does the school want them back or anything?"

"That's a good question. I will have to ask."

"I will break up the boxes and keep them in my room until I hear from you."

"Oh, I have noticed you and Angie eating at the table in the lounge."

"Is there a problem with us doing that?"

"No, that is what it is there for. And you two do a good job cleaning up after yourself. I'm just really happy to see Angie spending time with someone. Are you two an item now?"

"I think so. I'm pretty sure yes. I certainly hope so."

"You two make a good couple. I'm really happy for both of you. And you have friends in high places. The Dean dropped me a note this morning asking if you were settling in okay."

That surprises me. He is really taking care of me. Of course, John was really impressed about how well the Dean took care of him when he was sick. I guess he does really care about us when we are in need.

I head back up to my room, feeling pretty good. I start in on my next reading assignment, with the same five on five off approach that worked before. During my second break, I decide to text Angie.

Hi Angie, ❤️ I am studying in my room. Figure you want to too when you get off work.

maybe study together? You help my head stay calm when you are here.

I'm a little nervous sending the heart emoji. But I did already tell her I was falling in love with her. And she certainly heard that as me saying I loved her.

I don't hear anything back, but she might still be working. I settle back into my slow motion work. About twenty minutes later, I get a response.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ would love to study with you. Just finished work. Meet down at the table in fifteen?

I respond immediately. I will need my computer and a bunch of books, you probably do too

why not in one of our rooms, can leave door open so no one thinks we are doing something else

There is silence for a moment. I think this is a good time to test my remote sensing ability. I close my eyes and picture Angie. I can imagine her smiling, talking to me. She is coming over to hug me. All of a sudden, I can hear her thoughts, almost as well as if she was in her room downstairs.

She is torn. She doesn't trust either of us completely. She knows she wants things to happen that shouldn't. She's trying to decide if she trusts that the door being open is enough to keep us being good. She has decided.

I will come up to your room when I get back. Door stays open. No funny business.

It worked. I could read her mind from miles away.

During my next five minute break, I prop my door open before lying back on the bed again. I hear her coming, both audibly and telepathically before I can see her. I stand up to say hello to her when she gets in.

She looks at me as she drops her pack with her books on my desk. She does not really greet me. I say, "Don't I get a hello kiss or hug? Not even a spoken hello?"

"I'm sorry, Matt. I'm not being fair to you. Hello. I really am happy to see you. I'm still trying to reconcile my feelings after our kiss last night. It was almost my first kiss ever."

That almost was an interesting hedge. One that she does not seem inclined to elaborate on. But she is thinking about it, so I know. Her best friend several years ago talked her into practicing kissing, so they would both know what to do. But her girlfriend tried to push it further once they were kissing and it became a bit of a fight. They avoided each other for a week after that and never got back to being good friends again.

She doesn't think it, but from what she also knows about her, that friend was a lesbian, trying to seduce her. She understands deep inside, but doesn't want to admit that such a possibility even exists.

"It's okay. I'm okay with wherever we need to be right now. I was hoping that we could give each other hello and goodbye kisses. Just quick pecks. That can help keeping us feeling connected. All of our goodbyes, especially, were kind of awkward before last night. We both seemed to want to, but were afraid to."

She seems open to the idea. A kiss sounds good to her. But can she trust me. Can she trust herself. She has a lot of fear that she will do things she doesn't approve of. We may need to try to have some deeper philosophical discussions, so I can see how to ease her overgrown sense of propriety. She is clearly battling with it constantly, stopping her from what she wants to do.

"I'm not looking for a passionate kiss or groping or anything like that. Not that I wouldn't love those; if you could read my mind you would know how much. But I know you aren't ready for any of that yet. Having you here with me means much more to me than any of that. So I thought a little peck hello and goodbye would be a nice in between point."

"Thank you for being so considerate," she says as she leans over and gives me a peck on the lips and squeezes my hand.

One step forward. She seems very happy with this as a good middle ground in her own internal conflict as well. And her trust in me just took a bump up, too. Now just be careful, Matthew. Do not blow that trust.

"Would you be more comfortable at the desk or on the bed?" I ask her. Her decision making is as interesting to me as her decision.

Her first concern is whether I have a strong desire for one or the other. Is this a trick question? She thinks she would be more comfortable on the bed, but she wonders whether lying on the bed is easier on my head. And she worries that I will take her lying on the bed as an invitation to something bad.

I add, "Either way is fine with me. I just want you to be comfortable and productive. If I need one or the other, I will say something. Can we make that a rule between us? If one of us needs something, don't be afraid to ask. It might not always be possible, but how else are we supposed to know what the other needs."

She likes that, but is now scolding herself for over analyzing the situation. She decides to commit.

"I wouldn't mind the bed if you don't mind. But you stay over there, while I'm on the bed."

"I promise to be a perfect gentleman the entire time. As I said, I just want your company. It makes my head feel better when you are here. Besides I really like you being here."

She is beaming inside at that reply. She thinks she may have found the right guy.

I swap from reading my Renaissance Art textbook to my Psych homework. I need the computer for it, so it's a good task for the desk. I'm back to my five on five off system that seems to be working.

She glances over at me sporadically while we both work, although I doubt either of us is actually as productive as we would be alone. Sometimes she is watching me, thinking about Anna's charge to her, worrying about me. During my second break, I see her glancing at me, wondering why I'm not being more productive. I decide some humor is needed. She is trying to look at me without me seeing her doing it. But I manage to catch her eye while she is peeking. I put my hands up over my face peek-a-boo style. She laughs.

"I was trying to figure out why you are only working half the time."

"I have figured out that I can work for a while if I work five minutes then take a five minute break. So yeah, only half the time, but that's better than no time, which is the only other alternative I have found."

"Makes sense. Does it really help having me here?"

"Beyond any question. I think it just calms my head or something. Everything else is just blocked out."

That is true, except if she is nearby, I spend all my gain listening to her internal discussion. What I hear is not that interesting when she is studying like this, so I can still get work done. Without worrying about getting a boner in front of her.

During one of my breaks, I check my e-mail and see a response from my professor. The one who I e-mailed this morning with my questions from the recorded lectures.

She answered each of my questions inline in the reply, but added a chunk at the end.

"That was a nice thing for her to say," I say out loud.

"What's that?"

"I watched the recordings of the two classes on eighteenth century thinkers last night and this morning. I'd sent her some questions this morning and she just got back to me. I'm one of those annoying students who asks too many questions."

"So am I."

She likes that I'm like that, too. I can hear her feeling closer to me.

"Anyways, she just sent me back answers to my questions. She tacked on a note at the end. Do you want me to read it to you or would you rather come over here and read it yourself?"

"I will come over and read it. I probably should get up anyway before I become a permanent fixture of your bed."

"I could see advantages to that."

She blushes, but she does not feel that one was a real threat to her. It made her feel desired, but also concerned about my intentions. She is torn inside herself.

I point to the message on my screen.

Matthew, I have to say I am impressed with you doing this. I apologize for sounding a little snarky in my reply yesterday. These were very thoughtful and insightful questions. I look forward to you being healthy enough to be able ask questions in person again. It will make the course a much better experience for all the other students. And it is fun for me to have an engaged student like you. You really are a delight to have as a student.

"Was she snarky with you?" Angie asks.

"She seemed a bit miffed that I had chosen her class not to attend. I think she thought I was trying to blow off the course, hoping the Dean would make her pass me."

"Do students really do things like that?"

God, she really is that naive, isn't she.

"My old roommate would have at the drop of a hat. He's walking on thin ice though. I'm not sure he is going to be welcomed back next semester unless he gets his act in gear. I was trying to tell him to use the quiet of having a single to get more studying done. But he saw it as an opportunity for parties and girls."

"How did you end up rooming with such a loser? Sorry for calling your friend that, but it sounds like he kind of is."

"He definitely is. We were never close friends. I only kind of knew him last year. He was always the life of the party. He was really a walking party of one. That sounded like it would be a fun time. I'm not very social and I always felt that I got included in things as an after thought. Being his roommate has gotten me integrated into the group, but now I'm not sure I want to be that involved in their group. I'm glad to be here. Not even counting having you in the dorm with me. How were your roommates your first two years?"

"My first semester was a nightmare. All my roommate wanted to do was sleep with guys. She would have a guy in her room once or twice a week. We had one of those mini-suite doubles, where we each had real little bed rooms and then a common room with a couch and two desks. Sometimes they wouldn't even bother shutting her door. I did a lot of studying on my bed with my door closed. And every once in a while I would be in the common room and a naked guy would come running out looking for the bathroom. I managed to get myself moved to a double here in the Honor's dorm for second semester. It's been fine ever since. I kept the same roommate last year as I got that spring. But she is a senior now, living with her boyfriend off campus. She was okay, but we never talked much either."

"I was talking to Aya earlier today. She mentioned seeing us together a lot. She was happy to see you socializing more. Then she asked if we were an item. I told her I thought we were, at least I hoped we were. Was that an okay thing to say?"

"Yeah, I think that was an okay thing to say."

She is bursting with joy inside to hear that I said it.

"Good. I'm glad I didn't screw that up. Aya was really happy to hear that. And she said the Dean had asked about me this morning, how I was settling in. I have been so impressed with him. And with Janet."

"Who's Janet?"

"His secretary. I think she is the one who actually does everything. She felt like she was doing a million things at once and keeping them all neat and organized. She really impressed me."

"Checking out older women now? Have I become passé?"

Fortunately, I know she is completely joking.

"You know my heart starts and stops with you, Angie. Besides, I have no interest in her becoming a permanent fixture in my bed. I'm saving that space for you."

She laughs and says, "Oh you" as she faux slaps me on the shoulder.

But she liked the joke on the inside. She is seeing us a couple in her own head, more and more. I just wish she would come to an agreement with herself about what that means. I know what I want it to mean. I have condoms all ready for that moment.

"Since we are kind of at a break now, should we go find food?" I ask.

"You really are hungry all the time, aren't you."

"Pretty much, yeah. Of course, food is only my second biggest hunger."

She looks at me strangely until it dawns on her what I was saying. "That is enough out of you, young man."

She is liking that I want her, but it is starting to make the prude inside her unhappy.

"I'm sorry. You know I'm only joking. I promise not to push for anything you aren't completely comfortable with. Just know that when you are ready for any step further. I'm more than ready to go with you."

That just calmed her prude most the way down.

She gives me a hug. I lean down and give her a kiss, more passionate than last night's. I break it off after a minute, saying, "We should stop that before we go somewhere we just agreed not to."

She is disappointed that I cut it off. I can see that even without any mind reading.

I offer her a hand as a consolation and we walk down the two flights of stairs together. I head off to FoodMart and she goes to the dining hall. I bring a small pizza (pineapple, ham and green pepper), cheese and crackers, and a bottle of iced tea back with me to the table in the lounge. Our table. A few minutes later, Angie is back with a sandwich, a salad and two milks.

As we are starting to eat, I say, "Can I ask you a personal question, Angie? I mean we have agreed we are an item now."

She nods, mouth full of sandwich.

"Feel free to say you don't want to talk about this. I know you have very strong feelings about what we shouldn't do. I respect that you have those feelings and I'm not trying to challenge them. But you also seemed to be very disappointed when I broke off the kiss, like you wanted us to go further. To be honest, I'm a little confused."

I'm honest that I'm confused, but I know a lot more than I'm admitting here. But by saying what I did, I can start talking to her about that internal dialogue. And hear her thinking now as she answers.

"Was there a question in there?"

She knows the question, she is hoping to avoid really talking about this without cutting the discussion off.

"I thought it was kind of implied. I'm a little unsure what I should be doing. I feel like I made a mistake stopping the kiss, but we had just said you weren't comfortable going any further. I just need help understanding."

She takes a deep breath. She is trying to decide if she can say anything meaningful to me. And how much she is comfortable saying. She is not going to tell me that she is horny as hell, even though she is. She doesn't want to chase me away, saying she thinks sex is sinful.

"You are right, I am torn. And it isn't fair to you to be stuck in the middle. And you have been much more patient with me than I think most guys would be."

She looks into my eyes and thinksWe have said we are in love with each other. We are a couple. I can keep going.

"One side of me wants to share my body with you, wants to have sex. I want to have sex with you because I love you. I want to have sex to make you happy. I want to know what it feels like to have sex, to hold a naked man in my arms. I read about that but I have never experienced it. I have at least kissed you now. I really liked doing that. And it makes me want to do more."

Wow, that was much more honesty than I expected out of her. This is going well.

"On the other hand, I was raised to believe that sex is a sin. It is only allowed within marriage and then only to make children. I know that is considered antiquated by almost everyone here, but it's the way I was raised. We weren't even supposed to kiss. After I kissed Evie way back then, I was sure I was going to hell."

She feels shame. Both at the kiss and at the belief.

I set down my current slice of pizza, wipe my hands on a napkin and reach both hands across the table to her. She takes them both into her hands and starts to cry.

"It's okay to believe what you believe. I will be here for you no matter what."

She is crying harder. She is so upset I'm having a hard time making any sense of what she is thinking.

"Would you like for me just to hold you for a few minutes?"

She nods her head and I come around the table and sit next to her. She leans against me and I wrap my arms around her and she really sobs now. I just hold her and let her cry it out.

She is slowly running out of tears and I can start understanding what's going on inside her, understanding what just happened. She wants to have sex with me so badly it is ripping her apart. She wants to throw out her belief system, a belief system that she rationally does not believe, but a belief system that is core to her essence, just so she can fuck me. And I thought only guys got uncontrollably horny.

"I'm sorry for that. I really am torn up by this. But I think I need us to talk about something else now."

"That's fine," I say walking back to my side of the table.

"You are welcome to cry on my chest anytime you need to," I add, as I sit down on my side of the table again.

"You really are a good man, Matt. You are too good to me. I don't deserve it."

"I think you deserve me and the moon and the stars and everything else in your heart. I love you, Angie."

"I love you, too."

I start eating my pizza again, while I regroup. She is just filled with overwhelming positive thoughts towards me right now.

"What are your plans for the summer?" I ask her, trying to find something hopeful to talk about.

"I will probably move back home and work in my grandfather's store full time. What are you doing?"

"I have applied for a bunch of internships at the local art museums. If I can find one, my parents will let me stay here somewhere. Otherwise, it's back home."

I see her looking at me quizzically. She is wondering where.

"My parents live in a little town about a two and a half hour drive north east of here. I will probably go back and work in the hardware store. They at least let me keep my summer earnings. Last summer's job is what paid for last night's burgers."

We sit quietly for a minute. Then I have an idea.

"If I get an internship, I think they let us stay in a few of the dorms. Aya said we are allowed to stay here if we have appropriate employment locally. I saw the library is still looking for summer help. Maybe you could work there this summer and we could keep our rooms and still have dinner together every night."

"I would love to, but I don't think my family would let me. And I need them to pay my tuition. They agreed to pay the single room supplement only if I worked during the school year."

"You don't get to keep the money?"

"The deal is that every penny I make goes to my college bill. So I keep nothing."

"That stinks for you."

"My family isn't rich. The store doesn't make that much money, so they couldn't really afford to pay me more than that. But they are willing to pay everything, so I won't have any loans when I graduate."

"My parents aren't rich, but they are doing okay. I will have loads of loans, but my parents say they are going to pay them."

"That's nice of them."

We sit in silence for a moment, pondering where we want to go.

"I will tell you what. If you get an internship and the library still has openings, I will ask them about it."

I'm really hoping one of those internship applications pulls through. Spending summer back home with her stuck here would be too painful to imagine. But spending all summer with her, with no homework to do after hours, that would be nirvana.

"Thank you."

"I think I need to study in my room by myself this evening. I don't trust myself in either of our rooms with you right now. And thank you for being such a gentleman this afternoon. You completely lived up to your promise, beyond what I would have let myself be brought to. Should we try to have breakfast together tomorrow?"

"I didn't think you ate breakfast."

"I do on Sunday. I only get two meals on Sundays on the meal plan. so that is what I will eat."

"I will never miss a meal with you when I have an option. What time?"

"Is nine thirty too early for you?"

"Are you up already anyway?"

"Yeah."

"I slept late this morning and I would like to sleep as late as my body wants me to. I seem to need extra sleep right now. I will text you when I wake up or 9:30, which ever is later. Does that work for you?"

"That sounds like a good plan. Good night, Matt. I really do love you."

"I love you too. Sleep well."

We give each other the agreed upon quick peck on the lips. It isn't much, but it is still wonderful.

Unlike last night, I don't feel a need to hurry to my room to listen in on her thoughts. I already have enough new insight to ponder for the evening. And now, figuring out how to get her unwedged from her internal conflict is more than just for my own desires, she needs it for her own peace of mind.

Of course, I do listen in as soon as I'm in my room. She seems to be calmly reading in her room. One of the Austen novels I would guess from the language. She seems to know it well. But she is taking detailed notes about something, maybe getting thoughts for an honors thesis.

I lie in bed pondering the situation. I don't want to push her away from her family and her core beliefs. She could come back to resent me for that. But she is also not finding living within their stricture tenable. It really is a tough scenario.

I'm starting to drift off when I hear her settling in for bed. I'm pretty sure she is not going to masturbate tonight, much to my disappointment. Instead, she is just mooning over me and how good I was to her today. I chalk that up as a successful day and fall asleep to her very positive thoughts.

I wake up around nine. I take a shower before texting her that I'm awake. We agree to meet at the table in ten minutes. I grab a breakfast sandwich and go to check out. The clerk says the card has been denied. I have used up all my meals at the FoodMart. Damn it. I will need to ask the Dean about this tomorrow. I just pay the cash price for my breakfast and head back to see Angie, grumbling to myself all the way across.

She is already sitting there with her food; she gets up to give me a good morning kiss. I don't immediately react to kiss her, and she teases, "Already tired of me?"

"I'm sorry, Angie, something is screwed up with the change to the meal plan the Dean had promised me. I had to pay my own money for my breakfast. They wouldn't charge it against my meal plan."

"I'm sure he will get it resolved. He seemed really nice to me."

"You met him?"

"Yeah, I had to go in for an interview last month for some award. I never quite figured out what it was about and I guess I didn't get it. But I liked him. Once you reminded me, I knew who Janet was. I was just yanking your chain. You are right, she is an impressive woman."

Her cheerfulness has snapped me out of my funk. God, I love this woman. We have our most upbeat discussion we have had at any meal. She is in a really good mood today. I just get cheeriness in her internal voice. None of the conflict of the previous days. I wonder if she brought herself to some reconciliation on her own.

"How much work do you have to do today?"

"I can do some, but I'm only worrying about doing enough to be able to follow along. I have a few papers to write, but that seems to be more concentration than I can manage for the time being. I have somewhat of a blank check to turn in things late right now. I'm hoping I can write the papers effectively over break week and get caught up then. So zero is the minimum I can get away with."

"Well, I have about an hour I really want to do. And I'm sorry to tell you that you distract me too much to actually study together. I'm just not very productive when you are in the room. I have a proposal for the day. It is just after ten now. Give me until 11:30, then I'm all yours to do with what you want for the whole rest of the day."

As far as I can tell, the double entendre was completely intended. Something happened in her head last night. Maybe I should've listened in on her more. I just don't know if it was last night or this morning. But I'm not complaining.

"Well, I was figuring I might as well eat out somewhere tonight, since I'm paying for it out of my pocket anyway. Friday night was only kind of a dinner date. Let's have a proper nice dinner tonight. Your choice of places. A proper date. And I really liked walking around the campus yesterday while you were working. Any suggestions for a place to walk, just not one that is too crowded? Crowds are still problematic for me."

"We could walk along the lake. That is a pretty walk and never too crowded this time of year. It's a nice day for late winter, but it's not nice enough to bring out the throngs the way the first sunny day in the sixties will. As to a restaurant, how about Antonia's downtown? It's a fancy Italian restaurant."

"This sounds perfect. I'm looking forward to seeing you all of today and all of you tonight."

I'm glad that she picked up my double entendre. And was happy about it. And it does sound perfect to me.

As soon as I get to my room, I look up Antonia's and get a reservation for 6:30. It looks like I need my suit for dinner. I'm too excited to even think about doing any real work. I do manage to send an e-mail to Dean Ferguson about the meal plan. I'm not even listening to her study, I'm just fidgeting without purpose. A little after eleven, I can't handle it any more. I get my bandage changed then take a short walk around campus. Too nervous to even listen in on any of the people I pass.

I'm back at the lounge by twenty five after. She comes down a minute later. She has put on some makeup. The first time I've seen her with anything. Just some lipstick and some eyeliner, I think. She is even more beautiful than usual.

"I can't believe how beautiful you look, Angie."

She beams back. We hold hands as we walk to her car for the drive to the lake shore walk. On the drive over, I tell her the reservations are for 6:30.

I really like walking along the lake. The wind coming off it is cold, but we both brought warm coats. Those, and the walking, keep us plenty warm. Sometimes we chat, sometimes we just walk silently. Always holding hands. After about an hour, we decide to sit on a bench for a while, watching the waves and the seagulls and the other hardy souls out for a walk.

I wish I could paint and capture this moment. It is almost as beautiful as Angie. I lean over towards her, saying, "May I kiss you."

"Yes, you may."

We hold the kiss for many minutes, feeling our souls shared in a way I never conceived of. I have never felt closer to anyone than I do to Angie at this minute. All I can think of is how much I'm in love.

I finally break the kiss, saying, "I love you more than I have words for. I was sitting here wishing I could paint to capture this moment. You are the writer. What are your words for what we are feeling."

"I like the writers who use the fewest words necessary. My words are 'I love you.'"

"I love you, too. Just a minute, there is something I want to do."

I get up and interrupt a man walking by with his dog.

"Sir, would you be willing to take a picture of Angie and me on my phone. It's our first real date today and we are very much in love."

He looks at me and then her. He chuckles. "Yep, you certainly are. Of course I will."

I run back and sit next to Angie with my arm around her. He is still laughing to himself as he takes the picture.

I hurry back up to him and say, "Thank you so much, I really wanted to remember this moment."

"No thanks necessary. I suspect you will remember this moment with or without the picture. But you two have made my day. Enjoy your day and your entire life together."

I bring the phone back to the bench. He actually took three, I guess to make sure one of them was good. We look at all three of them. We both look so happy. He was right. I will never forget this moment. This has been the happiest of my life. Even if something happens between Angie and me, I can't believe any other moment will be quite like this one.

I'm too happy to even think about my abilities. I want to experience this the old fashioned way.

We start walking back. We decide we are both getting peckish and dinner is still hours away, so we stop at a hot pretzel vendor, the only food vendor out along the walk today. We get a pretzel and have fun tearing off pieces and feeding them to each other. We are giggling as much as eating. We finish the last bites just as we reach the car.

When we get back to the dorm, it's still only 4:00.

"What should we do now? I need time to get ready for dinner, but we have about an hour to kill," she asks me.

"We could go back to your room and neck," I say, joking.

My jaw almost hits the floor when she says, "Okay."

"I'm not complaining, mind you, but what happened to the Angie yesterday, the one with the door must stay open and no funny business rules?"

"I made an arrangement with her," she says slyly.

I'm too excited by what is happening to be able to read her. I blindly go along with this new Angie.

She unlocks the door and I come in her room for the first time. She has her furniture in a different arrangement. And she has a bookshelf over her desk. Loaded with novels.

She sits on the bed and says, "Close the door and come over here, Matt."

I sit next to her on the bed. I turn towards her and she turns towards me. We lean and start to kiss. Nothing like the little kisses we have been mostly giving each other. Way beyond the passionate kiss that I cut off last night before dinner.

I wrap my arms around her as we kiss and she matches my gesture. I stop kissing for a moment to catch my breath and enjoy the sensation of holding her tight. Then we are back to kissing again. On our next break for a breath, we profess our love for each other.

We have been kissing for about half an hour and I'm clear headed enough to be able to sense the desire coming from her. I pause to say, "May I feel your breasts?"

"Only over my clothes."

The restriction surprises me, she wants more. I can hear that. I cannot hear the restraint, but it's there somewhere, clearly. Either my own excitement is blurring my extra perception, which it certainly is, or she has subconsciously found a way to hide thoughts from me.

But I'm not going to turn down the opportunity I do have. I'm still holding her against me with my left arm, but I pull away a bit on the other side to caress her breast with my right hand. She moans softly as I first make contact. She wants this as much as I do.

The fabric of her top is soft and thin. I can easily feel her bra through it. I put my hand over her whole breast, trying to feel its weight in my hand. I can feel the softness of her flesh as I gently squeeze. I feel her nipple distending the bra, rubbing against my palm. I bring my fingers to it, feeling it grow taller as I do. Her moans are becoming louder, her breathing ragged. She groans as I pinch her nipple. She is squeezing her legs together, all of her starting to squirm in anticipation of more.

Suddenly she says, "That's enough for now. Besides, you need a chance to calm down before dinner," she adds, laughingly.

I realize she is looking at my crotch, where a rock hard erection is threatening to split my jeans open. I blush.

"It's okay. I'm pretty excited, too, if you hadn't noticed. Maybe later we will be able to show each other how excited we are. But I'm going to start getting ready for our date now, if you will excuse me."

She looks at the door, and I get the hint and get up to leave. It is almost painful to let go of her. Her comment about later has done nothing to reduce the strain on my jeans.

"I will pick you up here at your door at 6:10," I say as I finally pull myself out of her room.

I need to figure out what I'm going to do with myself. I'm not going to spend an hour and a half getting ready. I guess my first task is to get some relief for myself, so my suit pants will even fit. And maybe I will need a little more staying power tonight. I hope at least.

I get to my room and drop my pants. Before I even start stroking, I get a pang. I'm feeling her. She is masturbating right now. I focus on listening in. I can feel her finger going through her pussy. She is sopping wet. Neither of the women I have been with were ever anywhere near this wet.

I can feel her touching her clit. I can feel the sensation so thoroughly it is my clit now, too. She brings her second hand in, pushing her fingers into her pussy. My pussy. Our pussy. She is imagining that I am fucking her as the fingers drive in and out. I can feel our clit throbbing with excitement. Its explosion is flowing through us. Our fingers are being squeezed by our pussy. I'm ejaculating, shooting across the room. The two orgasms swirl and unite, creating one fantastic chimera, two different sensations, different climaxes becoming one inside me. I wonder if anyone has ever experienced this before.

Wow. That was amazing. Opening my eyes, I see there are streaks of cum on the floor halfway across the room. I better clean those up before they harden on and Angie sees them.

Listening to Angie again, she's still recovering, thinking about taking a shower. I don't think I need another one.

I look at the suit in my closet. I had gotten my parents to buy it for me over winter break because I hoped I would have interviews for internships this semester. No interviews yet, but now it has a much more important purpose for me. Making me look good for our first real date. The most important night of my life so far.

I remember the bookstore sells flowers. I think they are still open. I pull my jeans back on and hurry across. There are two bouquets left. I buy one and bring it back to my room.

I run into Aya on my way back into the dorm.

"Buying her flowers now, huh. We women always appreciate that. Just treat her well. And do you have protection? I doubt she is on the pill. Neither of you want her to be pregnant right now."

I blush and nod my head. Then I have a thought.

"Are you going to be here at 6:10? We are going out to a fancy dinner tonight. It's our first real date. We are both getting dressed up and everything. It's why I thought flowers made sense. But if you're here, I'd love you to take a picture of us all dressed up."

"I'll make sure I'm here. Have a good dinner."

I manage to kill the time until dinner, mostly pacing. I intentionally don't listen to her thoughts. A little before six, I comb my hair and put on my suit. It takes me a minute to remember how to tie my tie. And then longer to get a knot that looks good. By that point, it's time to go. I grab the bouquet of flowers and hurry down the stairs and up the hallway to her room. I knock on the door and she opens it.

She is standing there in a stunning rose colored gown that shows her cleavage beautifully. Her curly black hair, normally hanging down around her shoulders, is up on her head somehow. I'm sure she has makeup on, but I'm too gobsmacked to even figure out what.

I stand there gawking for a minute, then I remember the flowers. I hand them to her, saying, "I thought you might like these."

She squeals in delight and leans over giving me a peck on the lips before saying, "Thank you. They are lovely."

"Can I take a picture of you like this, holding the flowers?" I ask.

"Of course you can, silly."

I pull my phone out and put the camera into portrait mode and everything, hoping the camera's AI will give me a great picture. And it does.

"Do you mind if I send this to my mother? I want to brag to my parents about you."

"I am proud to have you brag about me," she says. But there is a little sadness in her for a moment. I do listen in. She wishes she could brag about me, but she does not think her parents would approve. Or worse.

I send the picture, along with the textAngie, about to go on our first date

We get down to the first floor and Aya is waiting for us.

"You two look so handsome as a couple. You really are beautiful tonight, Angie. Let me take your picture together."

I hand Aya my phone and she takes a picture. Angie and I look at it. We look good together. Even I actually look good. I decide to send this one, too. I bet my mom posts it on facebook. I don't care. I'm proud of Angie.

We walk over to the parking lot, drawing a few looks and some smiles. You don't see that many couples dressed up walking across campus.

The dinner itself is almost anti-climactic. The food is wonderful. And expensive. This eats up a big chunk of my savings from the summer. As much as I love being here with Angie, this could have been the table in the lounge in the dorm. I'm almost completely oblivious to everything in the universe except her.

But she has a glow about her. I probably do, too. Today has been magical. Yesterday, I was uncertain whether I could say we were an item when Aya asked. Now, there is no doubt. We are announcing to the world that we are a couple. We belong to each other. And we are in love. I think back to the reaction of the dog walker along the lake, saying we are certainly in love. It makes me smile.

Angie asks what I'm smiling about. I explain about the man along the lake who took our picture. She squeezes my hand.

I pay the check and we return back to campus. I'm wondering how far we will go tonight. I did pocket a condom when I was getting dressed, in case we ended up in her room. I'm too excited to be able to read her mind carefully. I cannot help but hear her bubbly excitement about today, tonight, us. But I've no idea how far she is willing to go.