Short Non-Fiction piece by, Simone Grant
When I first moved into my campus apartment I was excited, but at the same time, I was nervous as heck. This was my third year and I was ready to graduate. I met some great people along the ride and was ready to make my junior year awesome. Dating wasn’t my strongest attribute. I had exhausted all the cute guys at my school; not saying I slept with all them. I mean I had done my research and after properly scrutinizing my evidence, I found out that half of them were in relationships, gay, not looking, or I just wasn’t interested. I was as they say “over it.”
I wasn’t too fond of having a bunch of girl roommates. Girls can be catty and I wasn’t interested in fighting over who ate the last yogurt or whose turn it was to do the dishes or take out the trash. My mom would say “Simone. This is going to be a great year for you. You are going to meet a great guy who might possibly be your husband.” Yeah right! “If it hasn’t happened yet, I highly doubt it will ever happen,” I would think. To be honest, I was fed up with the dating scene. I was already in a rocky on and off relationship with a guy who didn’t appreciate me. Hell, if I continue to talk about him and his asshole qualities, I’d be writing a damn novel.
I loved all my roommates, don’t get me wrong. We each had our own special connections. Jenny loved to cook and I loved to eat so we bonded over food. Kathy was down to earth and had really good conversation. Ally was the sweetest person you would ever meet and her shy personality made it easy to love her. But no matter how great my other roommates were, none of them connected with me like Virginia. Virginia is Middle Eastern and while we don’t share the same skin color, religion, or cultural views, we shared one thing, our love for men. She loved cute guys and so did I. Every time we were out together and we saw a cute guy we wouldn’t mind talking to, we would give each other’s numbers to him. This went on for a while until we found another common bond; we both were obsessed with our teachers.
Okay before you jump to conclusions, let me explain. No these “teachers” that we were infatuated with weren’t forty five year old chemistry teachers who were married and drove a jeep. They were total opposites. My crush was my dance instructor. And boy did I like the way he moved. I took his hip-hop class twice just so I could be next to him. I couldn’t dance for shit. I have rhythm but the type of choreographic dancing he had us doing was intense. I tried to keep up but at the same time, I was trying to get his attention. Virginia’s crush was just the opposite. Although he was just as fine, he wasn’t a dance teacher. Instead of wooing her with his sexy dance moves, he was stimulating her brain with his sociological intellect. He wasn’t her professor and that’s what I think attracted her to him. Nearly every professor at the University was assigned a T.A (teacher’s assistant) to conduct smaller classroom discussions. To her surprise, when she walked in her discussion, she saw a tall, handsome man with straight brown hair and even straighter teeth.
Each time we would have their class, we would come home to tell each other what happened. Even if they looked at us or said our names, we would gloat to each other about it. Call it pathetic or whatever you want but we were in love. As I write this I’m smiling because I can’t believe how much we used to like these guys. It was quite silly to think they would even give us a chance. I mean, they were teachers, whether they were professors or not. Though we loved looking and gawking over them, we knew we didn’t have a chance with them. That is, until the end of our senior year.
Virginia would send minor emails to her TA asking random questions about the course. Even if she didn’t need assistance or if she was asking rhetorical questions, she still found some sort of way to contact him. He would reply but kept it professional until the end of the school year. During the course of the year, he would, in our opinion, send subliminal emails hinting he was interested but we just knew he would never go that far. So when we graduated and he emailed her saying they should get together sometime for coffee, we started jumping for joy. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy for my roomie. She was getting what she wanted but I still held a little jealousy because I wanted my little Usher (I called him Usher because he reminded me of him when he danced) to be interested in me as well. But as my mom always said, if it was meant to be it would be.
So when he finally emailed me saying we should hang out the next time he is in L.A, let’s just say I couldn’t compose myself. After ten minutes of dancing I finally responded and took him up on his offer. We went out a couple times. No we didn’t have sex in case you’re wondering. I wasn’t going to let him get my goodies no matter how good he looked. Even though we aren’t “official” meaning in a relationship, we still communicate with each other. As far as for Virginia, she doesn’t communicate with her ex T.A. She is in a happy committed relationship with another man. Though we technically didn’t marry and have babies by our teachers like we planned we did get something out of our mission to sex our teachers, a friendship that can never be broken and a bond greater than ever.
By: Simone Grant
Each week we (Rnb Magazine) will be publishing a short story (or two) from our writers here at Rnb Magazine. If you have a story to share, please feel free to submit for possible publication on our site. I hope you enjoyed my short piece. Please feel free to email with questions, comments, or concerns.
