Me: Maybe…
Clark: Still waiting.
Me: Fine, he just went over the last assignment and gave a lecture on chapter six.
Clark: We should go out tonight and do cool adult things.
Me: Isn’t that an oxymoron?
Clark: What? Going out and tonight?
Me: Cool and adult.
Clark: Stick with me, kid. I’ll show you cool.
Me: (scared emoji)
Clark: For someone who is so anti-social, you really know your emojis.
Me: (middle-finger emoji)
Clark: (clapping emoji) (graduation-cap emoji)
Me: What do you want to do?
Clark: Cool adult things. Did you not get my text?
Me: OMG! You are so frustrating!
Clark: Yes! I’m winning at life, then.
Me: You’re winning at something.
Clark: I’ll come by at eight.
Me: Eight? Isn’t that late.
Clark: Oh sorry, do you need to ask your mom since it’s a school night and all.
Me: (middle-finger emoji) I’ll see you at eight, asshat.
Clark: Later, gator.
I look at my clock. It’s nearly eight. The front doorbell buzzes and I leap off my bed. I hear someone open it and close it and then voices downstairs as I shut my bedroom door.
“It’s for you, Megan!” Kendra’s voice carries up the stairs.
I hurry down and find her leaning against the wall inspecting Clark.
“Hey,” I say to him as I reach the bottom stair.
He looks me up and down. I suddenly feel self-conscious. “Come on, we got plans,” he says as he holds out his hand.
I take it and look at Kendra over my shoulder. She is visibly swooning and gives me a little wave as we leave.
“Where are we going?” I ask as we walk down the tree-lined street.
“First, we need food,” he states.
“OK.”
He turns two corners and walks up to Kay’s Café. “Wait here,” he commands. I stand against the wall and he emerges after a minute carrying a brown sack.
“Now we are ready,” he declares.
“For what exactly?”
“You’ll see,” he states. I follow him as we walk toward campus. He walks down some stairs near the old amphitheater and into a small garden. I’ve passed it many times, but I’ve never really looked around before. Little lights are lining the pathways and several benches sit at various points surrounded by flowers. I breathe in the scent of hydrangeas and roses. When we reach the center there is a small grassy area. A blanket is laid out and there is a bottle of wine and two glasses.
“What’s all this?” I ask.
He grins. “Pledges set it up for us.”
“You made poor freshmen do this like slave labor?” I ask.
He laughs. “They didn’t mind. Besides, it beats what we had to do as pledges.”
He motions for me to take a seat and I do as he unpacks the brown sack and lays out sandwiches and chips.
“Not exactly four-star, but I figured it would be fun to do things like the old days.” He motions toward the other side of the grassy area that is slightly darker without the dim lights of the pathway.
I squint. “Is that…a telescope?”
He nods.
I look back at him and smile. “OK, you win. That’s pretty fucking cool.”
He pours us both wine and we raise our cups.
I decide to make a toast. “To…old friends, who somehow found each other again.”
He looks at me and winks. “To the girl next door and the boy who always liked her.”
He doesn’t look away as he clinks his glass against mine and takes a long sip. I watch his Adam’s apple bob as the drink goes down his throat. I find myself swallowing before the liquid even enters my mouth.
“So, tell me about ‘adult Meg,’” he says.
I laugh but decide to humor him. I launch into what I’ve been up to over the past few years. He interjects with his own stories. By the time we finish our meal, it’s almost ten and I feel like I’ve caught up on his life. It feels good to know all the things that I’ve missed. We use the telescope to find Saturn and its moons, just like old times.
“OK, time for the second part of the evening,” he says as he grabs my hand and hauls me toward some bushes next to Lexington Hall. “You need to live a little,” he states as he begins pulling his shirt over his head.
“What are you doing?” I hiss, looking around to see if anyone is coming.
“Going streaking,” he replies while removing his shoes.
“Are you crazy? What if the campus police catch you?”
He shrugs. “Worse things could happen.”
“Like what?”
“Are you serious? Like, dying of cancer or being in a car accident, or failing out of school. Trust me, we would not be the first nor the last people to get caught streaking the quad,” he says as he pulls his pants and underwear down.
I try not to look at the physical perfection that is Clark Moore without clothes. He puts his hands behind his head and grins. “Enjoying the show?” he asks as he thrusts his pelvis.
I slap his chest. “Grow the fuck up, Superman.”
He glances down and palms his dick. “I’d say that I’m pretty grown up, wouldn’t you?”
I slap my forehead. “Oh. My. God. You are insane. You have completely lost your fucking mind.”
“Nah. I just know how to live a little. And quite frankly, Miss I’m-Turning-Coal-Into-Diamonds-Because-I-Am-Too-Uptight, you could learn a little from me.”
“Whatever.”
“I double-dog dare you,” he teases, leaning in so the whites of his eyes are illuminated by the dim lamplight nearby.
“Clark, for the love of God. We are not eight years old. Do you really think that will work on me?”
“Yep. Triple-dog dare you. Come on, don’t be such a pansy. Strip, Lennox.”
I groan because something about him calling me a pansy is pressing my buttons. I pull off my clothes and toss them next to his. “OK, now what?” I ask as I hug my naked chest.
He grabs my hand. “Now, we streak.”
Before I know what’s happening, he’s pulled me out from behind the bushes. We start running down the path across the quad. A few students see us and laugh and holler as we zigzag across the wide-open fields of grass. There’s nowhere to hide.
I realize as we run that it’s sort of liberating. I feel a smile spread across my face as the wind whips through my hair. I let a laugh escape as Clark tugs on my hand and starts to head back the way we came.
I pull my hand loose and spin in a circle with my hands in the air. “This is fun,” I admit.
He chuckles and pulls me against him, planting a kiss on my lips. “I like this side of Megladon.”
“Hey!” a voice calls out from across the quad.
I see a security officer’s flashlight shining toward us and I take off sprinting with Clark in tow.
“Stop!” the voice yells.
“Faster,” Clark says laughing as we reach Lexington Hall. We both scoop up our clothes and keep running around the building until we reach a small enclave. We tuck ourselves inside and start to dress. We’re just about dressed when I hear the voice.
“I’m checking over here,” the man says.