Kendall Ryan - The Impact of You

Professor Gibbs’ pacing leads him to the side of the room where Avery and I are seated. He pauses in front of us, pondering his next thought. ‘I’ve structured this class to allow you to explore your sexuality after finding that many of my students received abstinence-only education in high school.’ A few people in the room look at each other, wondering where he’s going with this lesson, when he continues. ‘Abstinence is often not the reality in college, or in high school for that matter. To remedy that, we’ll explore gender roles in society like it says on my syllabus, but we won’t just pontificate about these topics as obscure things unconnected to who we are. You’ll explore your own sexuality through a weekly journaling assignment.’

He passes out stacks of small black notebooks to everyone seated in the front row. The notebooks begin making their way around the room as everyone takes one.

‘These are your journals. And to get you started, I’ll provide the topic for your first journaling assignment. Turn to the person next to you. Doesn’t matter if it’s a member of the same or opposite sex.’

I turn to face Avery. Her cheeks were rosy before, but now she’s blushing like crazy and he hasn’t even given us the assignment. It’s so damn cute.

‘Open your journal. I want you to check out the person across from you.’ A few soft laughs erupt in the room. ‘No talking,’ Professor Gibbs reminds us.

I remain silent, slouched in my seat, and take in Avery’s stiff posture. If this is a study on the other person’s comfort level on sex, Avery will win for most uncomfortable. She looks like she’s about to flee the room. Why did she even sign up for this class? It’s a voluntary elective.

Professor Gibbs explains the journaling assignment. He’s looking to make a statement on positive self-image, self-love. Getting young women to see themselves more clearly, accepting, boosting self-confidence, both inside the bedroom and out; and getting young men to take note of more than what’s underneath their clothes. My eyes flick to Avery’s. She’s tuned in to his every word. Even I have to admit, it’s an interesting assignment.

The topic of our first journaling exercise is what we find appealing, beautiful about the opposite sex. A few snide comments and laughs circulate the room, until Professor Gibbs redirects us to think about the uncommon body parts, like hands and eyes. Then pushes us to go one step farther. He approaches me and Avery again, stopping in front of our desks. When he asks us each our names, Avery’s blush deepens again. He’s going to use us as an example in front of the class. I don’t care; I just don’t want him to embarrass her.

Professor Gibbs turns to Avery. ‘You’ll partner up and take note of each other’s characteristics. For example, Jase’s hands…’ He encourages me to lift them for the class to see. I hold them out in front of me awkwardly. ‘He would make a good provider with those strong hands.’

Avery’s pretty green eyes follow my movements and remain on my hands even after I’ve lowered them to the desk.

Professor Gibbs returns to the front, leaving Avery and me alone. I don’t care that we are in a room full of people. She’s fucking turning me on.

Being able to check out Avery for the sake of schoolwork is an amazing thing. She bites her lip and begins jotting something down in her journal. I wish I knew what the hell she was writing. Is it the thing Professor said about my hands? Somehow I doubt it is. Her gaze rakes over my jaw, down my chest, to my biceps, and it’s driving me insane. Each look is like a caress. It hits me like a jolt. I can practically feel her undressing me with her eyes. Shit. Who is this girl? She’s innocent and sexy all at once, and I know I’m in trouble. My heart is pumping fast, and I feel myself getting hard.

I flip open my own journal, needing the distraction. There are so many things I could write about Avery, but staring down at the blank page, I’m unsure where to begin. I’ve never kept a journal, but I have a feeling writing about her will be easy.

I take a deep breath and try to focus on the non-traditional body parts like Professor Gibbs reminded us. That way I’m not the perv staring at her tits. Which are exceptionally nice, I quickly note. Her head is still tipped down, so hopefully she didn’t notice my indiscretion. Damn, she’s writing a freaking novel. Is there really that much to say?

I swallow and focus on my notebook, finally writing, Her soft skin – it makes me want to protect her. I close the book before she has the chance to see what I wrote. God, I sound like a pussy.

I lean closer to Avery, and she slams her journal closed. But not before I see that she’s written an entire page about me. Wow. ‘Had a lot to say, huh?’ I whisper, offering a weak smile. She makes me feel so unsure and alive all at the same time.

She just shrugs, trying to downplay the assignment. But I can’t. There’s something happening between us. And I want to explore what it is.

‘Do you have class after this?’ I ask.

‘No. Why?’ she whispers back.

‘Come get coffee with me.’ It’s not a question and Avery just nods before turning to face the front of the room again.

The rest of the class drags by, as interesting as the topic is. The soft, feminine scent of Avery distracts me. Once we get outside, I wait for her to come up with an excuse, but she doesn’t. She walks by my side, her eyes looking everywhere but at me. And really, that’s all the encouragement I need.

Avery

I watch Jase walk to the counter at the ultra-busy student commons to pick up our coffee order. He leans against the counter, T-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. I think he’s probably flirting with the cashier, or she’s flirting with him. Doesn’t matter. I’m still mad at myself for how I acted in class. Just because he has many fine features did not mean I had to catalog each and every one in my damn journal. Once I realized he wrote like one line and gave up on the assignment, I felt like a complete idiot.

While I wait for him to return with our coffee, I slide my notebooks from my bag and arrange them on the table, making sure to keep the journal safely in my bag. I don’t want Jase snatching it and reading about how I think his eyes are the most mesmerizing shade of blue, like a cloudless summer sky, and being near him makes me feel more alive than I have in a while, makes me want things I thought I never would again.

I can’t give my heart away again. Especially considering it hardly still beat inside my chest. Of course, all this is post-Brent. That’s often how I think of my life – the me before all the drama of my senior year, and the me after. After I trusted him. After I let myself be used by him. I know I brought it all on myself, but that doesn’t erase the past. Looking back, I don’t understand how I could have been so stupid. But when you’re in love and desperate for affection, and dealing with the fact you were adopted – it turns out you’ll do just about anything for attention. Things I now wish I could take back. But I never can. Even if there weren’t witnesses, the act is burned into my memory.

Besides, it’s not like Jase is asking for anything from me. Friends, maybe. That I could handle. I think.

I would probably consider dropping the class if Jase weren’t in there to witness my defeat. I don’t want him to know the subject terrifies me. I want to be brave, open, like the rest of the students seem. I thought taking this class would be good for me, but now I’m not so sure. But one thing is certain – I won’t back out now with my tail between my legs. At least part of me wants to see where this will go – especially since it means I’ll be seeing Jase every Tuesday and Thursday, all surrounded by the titillating topic of sex. It’ll be a wonder if I can survive this semester without spontaneously combusting.