A…sex bucket list?
It was my idea, but I hope I’m not forcing things too much. Technically the idea for the activity came from Professor Hanks. Make a list with your partner of your fantasies, see where they overlap, simple enough.
But after today’s session with Luke in the classroom, maybe we don’t even need lists.
I put my hand in my pocket and pull out the folded list I made in class, but decide now isn’t the time to start thinking about that. I shove it back in my pocket and head back to our table with my chocolate milk.
Rachel looks at her watch, then brings her eyes to me. “Oh my gosh. Isn’t your Peace Corps interview tonight?”
“Oh, shoot. That totally slipped my mind.”
My loopiness probably has something to do with the fact that Luke fucked me into subspace.
I finish the rest of my chocolate milk and take one more chip with guac to go.
“Good luck!” Janice yells as I head out the door of the Gizmo.
When I was a sophomore in high school, I had a young Spanish teacher who was straight out of the Peace Corps. He had lived in Chile, South America for three years and had such a fun bag of stories he would tell us all year. Living on a rural farm, he helped the local community where he lived to get running water.
It blew my mind that there were still people in the world who didn’t have running water.
I still remember when I asked him the most naïve question that just slipped out.
“Why don’t some people have running water?”
“That, Cielo, is a good question,” he said.
I don’t know how much Spanish I really learned that year, but I’ll never forget that story. I always appreciated the fact that my teacher didn’t try to give me a simple answer just to pretend he knew everything. He was willing to admit he didn’t know, and that led me to my years-long investigation into indigenous water rights over the world, a deeper interest in Spanish language and Latin American cultures, to being an active member of Amnesty International, and ultimately to apply to the Peace Corps so I can make a difference myself.
And that’s the story I tell to the Peace Corps recruiter, Mariah, when she asks me the first question of my interview. “Why do I want to join the Peace Corps?”
“Wow. That’s one of the better answers I’ve gotten. The last two interviewees just said ‘because I don’t want to get a job.’”
“I see it as a calling.” Which is totally the truth, and the recent months with Luke have kind of made me forget that.
She marks something down on her paper. “Second question. When you get placed in your community, wherever you end up, you’ll have to basically take on a completely new identity for twenty-seven months. How do you think you’ll deal with that?”
Well, if being able to fake a relationship is any indication, I should be just fine. Too bad I can’t use that as a point of reference in this interview.
“When I studied abroad in Buenos Aires, I felt myself starting to adopt a new identity there.” I chuckle. “I even dated an Argentine guy. He helped me a lot with my Spanish when I was starting out.”
She laughs too, then points to my finger. “Are you two still dating? I noticed your ring.”
“Oh, no, Federico and I broke up.”
“And you’re seeing someone else now?”
I tense up. “Is this…part of the interview?”
Mariah straightens her blazer and taps her pencil on the piece of paper she’s taking interview notes. Her smile deadens to a more serious expression.
“It is. Being in a serious relationship with someone back home is the number one reason that Peace Corps Volunteers terminate their service early. We can’t have that being a regular practice. It’s not a deal breaker for your application, but it’s something important for you to think about.”
“My current relationship won’t affect my ability to commit to two years abroad. I can promise that.” I say it with such conviction but then something eats at the back of my mind. I definitely should have taken the ring off for this interview.
Mariah nods politely, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s heard someone say this before.
As I walk back to my place that night, Mariah’s question runs on repeat even though I try to halt it.
Luke and I are just doing this whole thing for show anyways. We’re literally gearing up with a breakup date in mind, so what’s the big deal? My heart.
I guess the big deal is that having an actual expiration date ahead of us makes what we’re doing between the sheets—and in classrooms, apparently—feel like it couldn’t lead to a happily ever after, no way no how. I knew this going into the rock block operation but somehow I didn’t think it would affect me this much.
Once I get back to my room, I text Luke to see when he’ll be over, and he says he’s on his way after dinner in about an hour or so.
I lay on my bed on my stomach, scroll through Instagram for a few minutes, then finally toss my phone to the side with a frustrated sigh. I’ve watched too many Disney stories where the princess gets saved by the man, looked at too many people’s feeds where they post the version of their lives with some perfect man. When the reality is that the pursuit of perfection is destined to fail.
Whatever I’m doing with Luke, crazy as it might seem, and temporary as it might be, I’m learning new things about myself with him. Maybe more importantly, I feel like I’m starting to enjoy myself. With Federico, no matter what I did I felt like we kept trying to get on the same page but couldn’t, and I was constantly worried about if I was doing things ‘the right way’ for him.
With Luke, it’s like he knows what I want before I even say it. It’s insane.
There is no right way to think about being with him. Even if I think of something as very wrong to do with him—you know, like him spanking my ass cheeks until they’re burning bright red in a freaking classroom—it just feels right.
It feels natural.
I think about the list in my pocket, and think about adding to it, but it’s already pretty lengthy. Instead, I just pull it out of my pocket and set it on the nightstand and wait for Luke to text me that he’s here so I can go down and get him.
Next thing I know I’m drifting off quietly to sleep.
When I wake up, I wonder if I’m still dreaming.
Seriously. That’s my first thought.
Before I even open my eyes I can hear the Bossa Nova album I have playing softly in my room. I feel a presence in the bed next to me.
“That’s some position you like to sleep in, Cielo.”
I flutter my eyes open and see Luke kneeling in the bed next to me, ripped and clad in only his boxers.
When I try to move my arms, I notice I can’t move; they’re tied above my head.
My pulse races as I look at Luke, who has a maniacal smile on his face.
“Holy shit, you sneaked in and read my list already?”
He kisses the side of my neck, then brings his face close to mine, a confused expression on his face.
“What list?” His eyes move to the piece of paper on my nightstand. “Ohhh. That. My bad. I came in here, saw you sleeping so fucking hotly, and I totally forgot about that.”