Sarah Mlynowski - Monkey Business

She shushes me with her hand.

“But what about his girlfriend?”

She rolls her eyes. “I told you, I don’t know anything more about that.”

How could she sleep with him without knowing? Isn’t it driving her crazy? It’s driving me crazy. “Did you at least ask him?”

“Can we not talk about this here?” she hisses.

Well, excuse me!

Tuesday, December 9, 11:55 p.m.

At five to twelve, I slam shut my Stats textbook and stand up. Only a few of us are still at the library. Namely, me, Layla and Jamie. I’ve been reading for the past half hour, and for the half hour before that, Layla and Jamie were tutoring me. (Turns out Layla got the highest mark in the Block on the Stats midterm. Yeah, the one she said she failed.) We only took a few breaks-one for a stroll around the room and another for massage train. A massage train is something Layla used to do at her sorority house. You sit in a line and massage the person in front of you for three minutes. Then the person at the front moves to the back. I started off in the middle. I massaged Layla, and Jamie massaged me. Then I moved to the head of the train, and Layla massaged Jamie. He has pretty good hands. Too bad I didn’t ask for a full-body massage the night we hooked up.

“You don’t got to go home, but you got to get the hell out of here,” Jamie announces. I’m exhausted. After class I went to a case interview session. Jared, the Block president, has organized a three-hour case session once a week until Christmas, to prepare us for job interviews. As if we have nothing else to do. Surprisingly, though, I’m pretty good at solving the estimation cases, when they ask you something you couldn’t possibly know, like how many buses are in America, to see how you would get at the problem. Who knew? Now if only I could finish my cover letters and résumés, then maybe I could actually get to display my recently discovered talent.

But at the moment I have other things to think about. The highlight of the night-private time with Russ. Most people come to the library because they want to ace their exams; I come because I need to keep Russ out of my bed until after he’s spoken with Sharon. This was my first new strategy, and it’s been working. We used to start fooling around at ten, and go until I evicted myself for his Sharon nightly phone call. Now that I’m at the library until twelve, there’s no pending end for our time together.

My second new strategy was to turn my bed into a sex temple, keeping it smelling clean and girly. I bought red satin sheets and pillowcases to match my duvet, making it impossible for him to even consider wanting to leave.

He can stay all night, and does.

He’ll have to break up with Sharon eventually. He can’t keep up this deception much longer. No, he’s going to dump her, soon. Definitely.

When we reach the Zoo, I immediately start preparing. I shower, spritz on my perfume and change into one of my new silk negligees (bought during the satin-sheet-shopping spree).

It’s twelve-thirty, and everything is ready for Russ. I’m lying on my silky bed, waiting.

Soft music playing? Check.

Condom box tucked discreetly under bed? Check. Not that I care so much about the condoms, since I’m on the pill, but I know it’s the right thing to do. Actually, he’s the one who insists on condoms. Maybe he’s afraid I’ll pass his precious girlfriend something unmentionable.

Hmm. My pill. Yesterday was my twenty-first day, which is a bit unfortunate. That means that in exactly three days I’m going to get my period, which sucks. Russ and I are only together for two more weeks before vacation. I can’t be out of commission for one of them. I hop off my bed, open my stuff drawer and search for my next month’s pill sheet. When I first went on the pill, my doctor told me to take two months straight. Maybe I should do that again so I won’t get my period until winter vacation. It can’t be that bad for you if he wanted me to do it when I first started, right? When you forget to take two in a row they tell you to start a new pack straight away, so it must be fine. And I’ll only do it this once, anyway. I push one of the white pills through the foil and swallow it before I can change my mind.

A knock on the door startles me, as if I’m doing something illegal.

I open it quickly, and Russ shuffles inside.

Illegal, illicit, what’s the difference? His lips are warm and I think I might be in love.

The alarm goes off at six-ten. Madonna is on the radio. I wonder what she would think about my affair. The Madonna of “Like A Virgin” would have approved. The English Rose Madonna, not so much.

Russ reaches for his sweatpants and shirt. “See you later,” he says.

Love you, I think but don’t say. The door shuts softly behind him.

I try to fall back asleep, but I can’t. That was Russ’s only condition for staying the night. The shrieking alarm at six-ten in the morning so he can sneak out without anyone seeing. Come on, what are the chances that Rena will be standing outside and spot him? I suppose he’s concerned that if he gets up at a normal hour, someone will see him doing the walk of shame and mention it to Rena, who will report back to Sharon. He doesn’t even want us telling anyone in the group. Fine, I understand. Nick has a big mouth, Jamie would be crushed because of his feelings for me, and who knows what the deal with Lauren is. So it’s a secret. For now. Except for Layla, who I had to tell. Eventually he’ll break up with Sharon and we’ll come out of the closet. Closet, dorm room-pretty much the same thing. He has to, doesn’t he? He’s not a bad guy; he’s just trying to figure out what he wants. And he’ll realize that it’s me and not Sharon.

I’m sure Russ has no problem falling back asleep. He’s been late to almost every morning class in the past two weeks. Matthews launches daggers at him when Russ tries to sneak into OB. I’m worried he’s not taking class seriously.

Not like me. Now that I’m up at six-ten, I might as well be studying. I step into my flip-flops and grab my shower supplies.

By seven-thirty I’m at the library. Layla is already there, in her usual seat. “Morning,” she says, waving.

“Hey.” I’m not much for talking this early. At least not until the bland coffee I picked up from the twenty-four-hour campus store kicks in. I’m almost done studying for Economics, which is pretty crazy, considering the exam isn’t until next Monday. OB is on Tuesday, Accounting on Wednesday, Stats on Thursday, and Strategy on Friday. I’ve also done most of the reading for OB and Stats. Tomorrow is the final day of class, so as of Friday I can start studying full-time.

I like being in the library at this hour. From my perch near the fourth-floor window, I watch the sun crawl its way into the sky, illuminating the campus below. Not too many students are around, but every few minutes someone rushes from one building to another. I spot Jamie, a bag of mini-muffins under his arm, on his way to meet us. He comes here every morning at seven forty-five, follows us to class and then walks back to the Zoo with us at midnight. Funny, I would never have pegged him for a library guy.

Then again, I wouldn’t have pegged myself as a library girl, either.

Friday, December 12, 3:14 a.m.

I’m having that exam dream-you know the one I mean, the one where you’re scribbling furiously in the high-school gym and you realize you’re butt naked-when the alarm signaling the end of the exam goes off.

Then I realize it’s not an exam bell, it’s a fire alarm, and I shoot up in bed. Oy. It’s 3:14 a.m. It’s probably a false alarm, but what if it’s for real? When I worked at the hospital, I saw kids who were victims of house fires, and it wasn’t pretty. I grab a pair of sweatpants, sweatshirt, a jacket and running shoes, my credit card and new student card with photo (finally got that in the mail today, can’t have it go up in flames already), take my keys and step into the hallway. I don’t have too much of value in my room except for my TV and DVD collection. And the mini-fridge I rented for a hundred bucks. (Who doesn’t want cold drinks and ice-cream sandwiches available twenty-four/seven?) I try to remember what we were instructed to do in a fire situation. I think the brief on fire safety in my welcome package said to line up at the nearest exit.