13

Thirteen
HADASSAH reached out and pulled Adrienne towards her until she was less than a foot away. “You need a bath,” she whispered huskily over Adrienne’s mouth. Adrienne reached out and ran her hand down the side of Hadassah’s face. “What’s the point if we’re just going to get dirty again? I’ll get new marks and we’ll just have to start over again.” Hadassah slipped her hand around Adrienne’s waist. “I thought English majors liked paradoxes,” she teased. Adrienne stared into Hadassah’s golden eyes that were spun with little specs of hazel. “I have to go home and feed Gandalf,” she protested, all the while caving into Hadassah’s embrace. “I’m going to get you one of those automatic cat feeders,” she mumbled, her face resting on Adrienne’s stomach. Adrienne giggled. “He’ll eat himself to death. You can’t just give him open access to food like that.”
“Seeing as you’ve slept in my bed, you might as well wear my clothes,” Hadassah pointed out, handing her a pink shirt with newspaper like lettering across the middle. She stared down at the words arranged haphazardly: We’re Here. We’re Queer. We Matriculate. “We matriculate?” she asked, hardly containing her laughter. Hadassah smirked. “I’ve got worse.” Adrienne smiled. “I’m sure you do.” She threw the shirt on over her head and pulled the jeans up over her curvaceous thighs. Gazing intently at Hadassah’s navel piercing; she contemplated the feel of the metal against her tongue, the taste of Hadassah’s smooth skin in her mouth. “You better put something over that before we start something,” she said, gesturing towards Hadassah’s stomach.
Hadassah grabbed Adrienne’s waist and abruptly jerked her close. “So start something,” she challenged. Ten seconds of Evanescence’s “Going Under” filled the room. “Your phone,” Hadassah said flatly, increasing her grip. Adrienne kissed Hadassah passionately before pulling herself away and scanning the room for her cell. It continued ringing as she rummaged through the flannel snowflake sheets. It ceased as abruptly as it had begun, a second or two before she found it under the blue pillow. “Jamar,” she mumbled. She took her eyes off of the phone and stared at Hadassah. Something flickered behind Hadassah’s eyes that she could not recognize. It lasted only for a moment and then it dissolved into the hazel specs spun around her gold irises. Hadassah averted her gaze and began searching for something to wear. She slipped her jeans back on and pulled on a red off the shoulder shirt with “Dysfunctional” in black, gothic lettering. Grabbing her keys, she lead Adrienne in silence to the car.