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My dream man on campus might not be one guy, but three. I have a filthy fantasy. The all-star football player falling at my feet. I’m brought down to reality when I find life at NYU isn’t what I’ve always hoped. All the clubs I join are a bust. Not to mention my roommate turns out to be a bully. But then…I get a text. One so dirty it drives my mind and body wild. I have to respond. And as the texts get dirtier, I have to wonder…who is this guy? Or is it three guys? The messages change in tone depending on the time of day. First thing in the morning, they’re so hot they could turn steel into pools of molten metal. The ones in the afternoon are even better but just…different. And the texts in the evening are so damn dirty I can barely sleep without putting my hands between my thighs. I’m addicted and agree to meet this Casanova of the text world. But what if it is three guys? How could I ever manage all three of them at once?
It was my last night in the trailer that I’d called home for far too long. I didn’t celebrate, not the way most kids my age would. There were no parties, no tearful goodbyes planned. Just me, on my own, the same as always. Nothing new really.
I spent most nights at home like this. I fantasized about all the boys I’d meet when I finally made it to New York. During the day, I studied and worked my ass off, but at night, alone in my room, I let my fantasies run wild.
I’d dream about sitting on a bench, the air cool and damp, the threat of snow just enough to make you want to curl up with your crush and cuddle as leaves fell around you. All the magic of autumn would combine as I made out with the all-star football hunk or even the all-star geek if there was such a thing. He’d snuggle up to me and whisper to me about how very much he wanted me.
He wouldn’t want the hot cheerleader who managed to fuck the whole football team just to get a piece of the star player. He wouldn’t want the hot sorority leader either; the popular one that every guy wanted. Oh no. He wanted only me.
Plain, simple Celia O’Donnell, the one that no one noticed back in high school. But now, at the university I’d dreamed that I’d get into, this magical, mythical guy would notice me, and he would want me, desperately.
I would look at him and think that I was the luckiest girl alive and that I’d give him what I’d saved for so long. We would date for six months before I gave him my most special gift and college life would be pretty cool.
Reality infiltrated as a sharp gust blew against a loose edge of the paneling on the trailer. I was so damn anxious. I’d worked like a crazy person to not only get into NYU but since I’d known that my mom couldn’t afford it, so I’d done everything I could to get scholarships and financial aid to pay for it and to make it all possible.
I wanted a boyfriend more than anything as I set out on this new phase of my life. I was eighteen years old and I’d never had a boyfriend. It was ridiculous, really, but I’d been far too busy with work and keeping my grades up, while I begged for scholarships to have anything to do with boys. Now, I’d get the education I wanted and a boyfriend. I couldn’t wait for the sun to rise so I could get on my way.
I pretended now, as I’d done so often when I’d come home to an empty trailer. Mom worked all the hours that she could to provide for me and to try to help me save up for the years of education that I now faced.
A wave of guilt flushed over my skin as I thought about the fantasy man I longed for. Mom was at work to feed me and send me to school and all I could do was think about a stupid boy. Maybe I should be focused on what classes I had to take and how I’d get around in a place that was so completely unfamiliar, instead of on having sex with a fantasy guy, I told myself.
Tomorrow, I’d leave Mom, my hometown, and I’d go out into the world on my own. An adult to most of the world, but still little more than a teenager. I’d be left to make my own decisions, my own mistakes, and the only person I could blame would be myself. Mom would be back here, counting on me to succeed. I couldn’t let her down.
Still, it was nice to think about the possibilities. Maybe I would have a nice, young, hot professor, I thought. The thrill of the naughty idea made me bite my lip with glee. More than likely all my professors would be old men and women, with less sex appeal than a potato that had sprouted. That made me laugh, and I rolled over in bed to stare up at the faded glow in the dark circles on my bedroom ceiling.
Mom and I had put those up there when I was five, and after all these years, there was still a little bit of glow left. I sighed because I knew the day I’d worked so hard for was just a few hours away. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t concentrate on my fantasy boyfriend or any of the million other thoughts that flitted through my mind.
I pushed the sheet down from my body, the night was still too hot for even that light cover in late August. I’d get up, watch some TV or read a book, but I was desperate to sleep. I wanted the hours to disappear as I dreamed of what was to come. I wanted tomorrow to be now.
Throughout my high school career, I’d been the studious one, the one that spent more time asleep, so she could be fresh for the next day of class, instead of up hours early to work on her hair and makeup. I wasn’t advertising for a teenaged boyfriend to marry and have kids with before we’d even hit the 20-year mark. I had bigger plans than that.
I wanted a career that meant I didn’t have to rely on anyone else, ever. I wanted a homemade of bricks and mortar, not cheap lumber and thin aluminum. I wanted a bathroom where the floor didn’t sag and a kitchen that had appliances that worked. I wanted a life that wasn’t complicated with struggles. I wanted the life Mom couldn’t give me even though she had tried.
And while I worked at it, I’d finally let myself look at boys. I’d finally find a real boyfriend, not the fantasy kind I’d dreamed about for so long. I’d be wanted, loved, adored and it would be perfect.
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