Group Work

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Group work can be fun sometimes.

Submitted: April 18, 2013

A A A | A A A

Submitted: April 18, 2013



Group Work

Candace about fell off her chair when she heard her name called out after his.

“Seriously? We are partners?” she thought, “I look like shit today!”

She tried to look at her reflection in her phone but the picture from last Halloween that adorned the background obscured her pale face making it seem a garish orange. She rummaged through her purse, desperately feeling for her tiny compact with a much more trustworthy mirror; by the time she found it, he was already standing in front of her table. “Hi” he said, looking down at her with his shy, brown, almond eyes.

“H-hello.” Candace mumbled with about as much confidence as a dead bunny.

“I guess, we uh- should get started.” He said with an awkward giggle that raised his voice in way making itseem like he was asking her a question.

“Yeah—probably should.” she said, matching his inflection.

Candace had watched Wyatt every day since the start of the semester. Even though nursing school kept her eyes in her textbooks most of the time, she somehow found spare seconds to observe every feature and mannerism of the tall, lean, dark haired boy that sat in the front, right corner of the lab. She noticed the way he propped his elbow on the table right before he was about to answer a question—he answered many. She knew that his intelligence and gift for retaining new information was one of the many things that turned her on about him. He sat down in front of her now, so close that she got a constant flow of his delicious smell—was it his deodorant? Cologne? He didn’t seem like the type to wear cologne so maybe it was just his natural smell. God, did she love it!

She found herself leaving the house five minutes earlier each day just so she could beat Wyatt to class and catch a whiff of him as he passed by on the way to the front of the room. This continuous sensory orgasm he was giving her now was almost too much for her to conceal. She shifted awkwardly in her chair and sat on her hands so she wouldn’t reach out and touch him. Oh, but she could touch him, touch him everywhere—he was that close to her!

“So, we have lesions?” he asked, staring up at her from beneath the ridge of his brow, the look nearly killed  her.

God you’re sexy! she almost mouthed but thankfully stopped herself and just thought it instead. She stared at him a while longer until he asked again, this time sounding slightly annoyed.

“Oh, what?” Candace asked while shaking herself out of the trance he put her in.

“Our topic, its lesions right? Topical lesions, their presence, form and meaning?”

Wyatt had a way of making cancer sound sexy.

“Yeah, lesions.” Said Candace, noticing how when she said the word, it cartwheeled out of her mouth in the most uncoordinated way imaginable.

Blushing, she diverted her attention to the proper chapter in her book and decided that if she was going to get anything done and not annoy the gorgeous man sitting within groping distance of her—she would have to not look at him or acknowledge his beauty in any way. This tactic worked for a while and the two nursing students actually got quite a bit done; yet, they both knew that if they were to keep up with the assignment, their collaboration would need to extend beyond class.

“Do you want to finish this at my apartment? My roommate it gone for the week and it’s not too far.”

Candace often wondered about where Wyatt lived but this invitation to actually see his place was too much for her to even comprehend. In spite of her shock, she managed to nod and in the next few moments they were walking through the parking lot towards his car. She at some point agreed that he would drive them both if she payed for pizza later; yet, that whole exchange was a blur to her, she was too mesmerized by Wyatt’s confident strides.

They got to his apartment complex, it was an average looking place—tan exterior with brown trim and seemingly all white rooms from what she could see through windows, boxy as boxy could be. Wyatt’s particular apartment was decorated in a similarly average way; its only unique quality being the overwhelming smell of him that blitzed Candace’s nostrils as the door opened. He walked inside and turned to hold the door open for Candace, but she didn’t follow.

“What’s wrong?”

“I- I am nervous.”

“Ha! About what? A guy’s apartment? I would think a girl like you would have been in one at least once before.”

“What does that mean?”

“No! No, nothing like that, sorry. I just mean that you seem to be friends with everyone in class, including a lot of the

guys so I figured you probably have hung out with them at their places before.”

“No, well—yes, I have. That’s not what I meant though.”

“Oh, okay, so . . . what did you mean?”

“I—I am nervous that I will embarrass myself.”

Wyatt just stared at her for a moment and then looked at the ground, smiled and shook his head.

“You are a silly girl, you know that right?” he offered while looking up at her from under his brow again, making Candace’s heart beat hard against her ribs.

“I know.” She admitted, even more embarrassed now resulting in her face getting hot.

“Come in, please?” Wyatt asked with such sweetness that it seemed to pick up each of Candace’s feet and move her forward.

Wyatt ushered her towards the couch and they both sat on opposite ends—Wyatt faced Candace but Candace faced the powered off T.V in front of them. She stared at the dark reflection of their two bodies. She watched him watch her, she watched him inch closer to her on the couch, she watched his final slide right up next to her shaking body, so close that their knees touched. She felt his warmth and his smell was so alive that it pulsed through her brain, making it hurt a little. She looked into the T.V as it looked back at them, displaying the show that she was now starring in. She watched his hand slide over hers and then up her arm. Candace stared straight ahead, afraid to blink, afraid to breathe because it might rouse her from whatever hallucination she was now having. Wyatt’s subtle fingers glided across her collar bone and then up the far side of her neck, eventually cupping the base of her skull. With his thumb, he gently pushed against her jaw and turned her head to face him. She couldn’t face him though. As her head moved, her eyes shot downward—now staring at their legs; hers were shaking and his were pressing against hers in an attempt to stop their convulsions. Wyatt inhaled deeply, Candace knew he was about to speak and she was terrified of everything he could possibly say because no matter what it was, it would force her to move.

“Do you want to look at me?”



“I can’t.”

“Sure you can, just look up.”

With that, Wyatt took his other hand and lifted Candace’s chin, her eyes strained to maintain their avoidance but they nearly went cross from the battle; she conceded to look. She held her breath while his fell heavy on her nose and lips. Wyatt was silent now, just staring, holding her head steady—his knees pressing her into conviction of what was about to happen.

“Why is it so hard to look at me?” he finally asked, hoping that her answer would be a lengthy one.

“You . . . are intimidating.” Was all that Candace could think to say.

Wyatt, feeling sorry for her, leaned in to Candace’s naturally pink lips and kissed her deeply, never letting his hand fall from the nape of her neck; he seemed to want to keep her close even if she tried to pull away. Candace swallowed hard and desperately tried to focus on where her limbs were and what they were doing because she knew, if not watched, they would take on a new life—one that she was not used to.


Back in her car and on her way home, Candace still felt Wyatt’s weight on top of her. Her thighs still ached for the temporary partition that he recently acted as. Chills ran across her skin with every memory of his lips caressing it—she smiled deeply, so much that she felt light headed. A car honked its horn and drew her back to the green light that was now threatening to turn yellow, Candace drove forward. Her day dreams and fantasies carried her home quickly. As she left her car and walked up to the front porch, she tried to convince herself that what just had happened wasn’t a dream. With the smell of Wyatt in her hair and bits of him still lining her panties, she decided to believe herself.  The front door opened with a squeak.

“Hey Babe, how was class?” Jack asked without turning from the T.V.

“Fine.” said Candace without turning from her thoughts.

“Dinner is in the microwave and Sadie has only been asleep for about twenty minutes so you should be able to eat 

it all before she wakes up, crying about something.”

Jack was now glancing in Candace’s direction, watching her ass as she bent over to set her books down on the Pottery Barn bench that adorned their entryway.

“Cool, well I will check on her before I eat anyway, I missed her.”

With that, Candace turned away from the conversation and walked down the hall. The door to the nursery opened silently, a small line of light grew larger across the oak crib as she pushed into the room. A small baby slept motionless under a lovingly crouched, pink blanket. Candace stared at her baby’s long lashes as they dusted the tops of her puffy cheeks. Jack placed his hand upon Candace’s shoulder; it startled her with its heaviness.

“Come on, dinner is heating up.” He said sweetly.

With a playful tug on her arm, Jack led Candace out of the nursery; as she followed him, Candace imagined Sadie’s blue eyes as brown and almond shaped, staring up at her from under her brow—she giggled at the thought.


© Copyright 2018 Senora Jane. All rights reserved.

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