Lulu's Loves Read online

  He made a big deal about the whole thing. “It’ll be special, Lu, I promise.” I wondered how he knew any of this? Locker room stories, I suspected. My knowledge came from Rachael.

  ‘Special’ meant he put clean sheets on the bed and threw his t-shirt over the lamp. The rest of our first time was groping and hurried foreplay to get me “wet,” so it’d go in easier.

  It wasn’t ‘special’ at all. It hurt. It wasn’t be memorable. I was just glad it was over.

  “Lulu, if he doesn’t make you all tingly and happy, then it isn’t good,” Rachael told me…

  “There was none of that. Neither of us really knew what we were doing. He enjoyed it. For me, it was painful. I really just wanted him to finish so it’d be over.”

  “It’ll get better,” she assured me.

  We were a couple. We were having sex, but I knew where I stood. Football was the most important thing in Jason’s life; I was a far off second. The sex got better, but I always felt as though it was all about pleasing Jason. We were a couple all through high school, and everyone said we’d get married. I knew differently. We were a couple because Jason thought we looked good together, and he liked that. I knew that he was my high school boyfriend, not my forever love. I believed that our relationship was convenient, and as long as we were a couple, I didn’t have to deal with the other assholes that showed interest in me.

  He worked, as he put it, ‘hard, smart, and safe’ to assure that he got a scholarship. A full ride to be exact. Everyone said he was ultimately headed for the NFL. That was his dream. The situation with his sister had gotten worse, to the point that his parents were never home. They were never there for his games, academic awards, or recognition. It became obvious to me that Jason become more and more bitter over the situation.

  As the end of our senior year drew closer, Jason got the full ride scholarship to The University of Miami to play for the ‘U.’ It’s what he’d worked for and the school he really wanted. He was thrilled. I was proud, but sad because I knew I wasn’t going to Miami.

  “Change your plans, Lu. Come with me,” he begged.

  “Jason, I’ll come down every weekend I can. I’ll make it to every game that I can, but my scholarship is for right here in Jacksonville–home, where I’m close to my dad. They have the program I want for my degree and it will be less money than going to U of M.”

  “Jesus, Lu. We’ll figure it out. Go with me!” he pleaded.

  “I can’t.”

  In reality, I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to play second fiddle to the pigskin he worshiped anymore.

  His scholarship was the beginning of our end.

  1995

  After he got to the University of Miami, he became the newly inducted Big Man On Campus: the hotshot up and comer. I didn’t like that whole persona, but Jason lived it. We talked every night, but it was always ‘me this’ or ‘I that.’ He didn’t ask what I’d been doing, it was all about Jason Dean. I didn’t expect that. I knew my place, but I didn’t realize I’d get pushed so far back in his priorities.

  I drove down for his first home game. When I arrived, I went to the place he told me to meet him. As I walked up, I noticed that he was with a group of his new friends. He saw me and broke free, making a big deal to welcome me, kissing me and hugging me dramatically, as though to make sure everyone noticed. They did. He went on to tell everyone the story from gym class about my boobs. Every guy there turned to look. I felt like I was on showcase, a spotlight that I didn’t want, but Jason was happy to show me off.

  Finally, we went to have a bite of lunch. “Damn, Lulu, I’m glad you’re here.” We sat together in a booth and he kissed me like he meant it.

  “I’ve missed you. I didn’t know it’d be this hard…”

  He took my hand and shoved it to his crotch. “This hard?”

  I pulled my hand away. “I meant that I’d miss you so much.”

  “I have practice later and then I’ll come to the hotel. We’ll catch up.” He waggled his eyebrows. I knew what he meant. All he was thinking about was sex.

  He came to my hotel room after practice. I was excited and anxious; we hadn’t seen each other in several weeks. He kissed me. It was a sweet, romantic kiss, and then went to shower. When he was done, he went to the bed naked, and patted the place beside him. I joined him.

  It didn’t feel right, and for some reason, I was nervous. After I joined him, he leaned over the side of the bed, pulled a bottle of Jack Daniels from his bag and took a big sip, and then another. He handed it to me.

  “No thanks,” I told him. I felt disappointed. He’d gone all through high school without stooping to that, but here he was, underage with a bottle of Jack in a hotel room. He took a couple more big slugs and set the bottle aside.

  All of a sudden, he was like an octopus. His hands were all over me: groping, rough, and demanding.

  “Stop,” I said.

  “Come on, Lu. Its been a while, let me love you,” he said, grabbing my boobs. His hands kneaded and it hurt.

  “Then love me, Jason, but not like this.” I pushed away, but he jerked me back.

  “Stay right here,” he commanded. He straddled me and took another slug of the Jack.

  “You’re hurting my arm,” I said quietly.

  “I want you. I’ve been thinking about this ever since I left.” I tried to be still; he was scaring me.

  He stripped away my clothes frantically. I just lay there and waited, trying not to cry. He seemed so angry that I didn’t want to make it worse. Before I knew it, he was slamming me against the headboard.

  “Christ, you’re so tight! So good and tight, Lulu! God, Lulu, I’ve missed this. ”

  Not ‘I’ve missed you’. He only missed the sex.

  There was nothing loving about what he was doing to me. Every thrust hurt more than the one before. I just lay there and let it happen.

  “Damn, this is so good. I love having sex with you.” He thrust harder and faster.

  Get it over with, please.

  One more thrust and he was done. He rolled off and in no time, he was asleep, or passed out, I wasn’t sure. I shook with such a mix of emotions. I just lay there, crying. I was mad. I was hurt, physically and mentally. I wasn’t sure what to do. An hour passed and finally, his watch alarm went off. He rolled over to kiss me.

  “That was amazing, Lu. I’ll see you before the game tomorrow, but I gotta get back to meet curfew.”

  He was up, pulling his pants on. I didn’t say a word. He came to where I was lying and pulled me up and into his arms. “I love you, Lu.” He turned and went out the door.

  That was the last time I saw Jason Dean.

  I stayed in the bed crying for a while after he left. I was trying to get myself together before the long drive ahead of me. Finally, I poured the rest of the Jack down the toilet and headed for home. I cried from Miami to Jacksonville. It was seven the next morning when I slipped my key in the door at home. My dad was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper. When he looked up, it wasn’t a happy face that greeted me.

  “Lulu?”

  “I’m all right. Jason and I are done,” I replied.

  “He broke it off?”

  “No, he’s probably just waking up, with a hangover, thinking that I’m getting excited about his game.” I felt the tears come in a flood.

  “What happened?” he asked cautiously.

  “He was drinking. I wasn’t,” I added quickly, when he looked up. “He forced himself on me.”

  “Are you hurt? Because I’ll drive down there and pull his sorry ass right off the goddamn field, Lulu! I mean it! Did. He. Hurt. You?” He demanded my response.

  I wasn’t going to tell him that my thighs and between my legs hurt, or that I was raw from the slamming I got. I wasn’t going to tell him that I had a headache from hell because he’d shoved me into the headboard repeatedly with each thrust.

  “He hurt me because he let me down.” That was how I responded. It was true. With e
verything his sister had put his parents through, I saw that he was the same as her, only in a different way.

  I went to shower. When I saw the beginning of bruises on the inside of my thighs, I started to cry.

  Jason called after the game.

  “Where the fuck are you?” he yelled.

  “Home.”

  “Why?” His voice got louder.

  “Because I didn’t have a good time last night. Congrats on the big win,” I replied in a snarky voice.

  “What the hell does that mean? You didn’t have a good time last night? It was great.”

  “No, Jason, it was only great for you. You hurt me, in more than one way. I don’t want to be in a relationship with a drunk. You said you wanted to love me, but that goddamn Jack you sucked down wasn’t the kind of lover that I’ve been accustomed to!”

  “I’m sorry Lu. Did you watch the game?”

  Seriously?

  “You’re only sorry because it didn’t end the way you wanted. You just wanted to have me there to show me off. People think I’m pretty and you like that. You like that my breasts are easy on the eye and that we made a good-looking couple. No, I didn’t watch the goddamn game!”

  “Go to hell, Lu! You don’t know what you’re missing out on!” He was angry. It just fueled my own fire.

  “I was already in hell last night. I won’t miss a repeat of that!” I shouted back.

  “Fuck, Lulu, that sounds like date rape! Why in the hell didn’t you tell someone?" Rachael shouted at me.

  “He was buzzed.”

  “He’s a drunk party boy, that’s what Mike Stewart says. I heard they’ve already found a chaperone to keep an eye on him. He always was a piece of shit; no better than the sister he whines about. You were too good for him. Dammit, I’m mad! If he was here, I’d kick him in the balls, but I’m not sure he has any!”

  He called every day. I sent the calls straight to voicemail. When I finally listened to the messages, they were all pleading apologies, begging me to call him. Finally, one evening I answered.

  “What do you want?”

  “No hello?” he asked. There was a charming sound to his voice, but it didn’t matter; I was done with him. “I want to apologize, Lu. I mean it. I miss you, and I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

  I was quiet, thinking for a moment before I responded. “Jason,” I said, finally. “Our beginning started with you telling me you were sorry; I think we’ll end it the same way. Please don’t call me anymore.”

  “You’ll be sorry when I’m a star, Lu.” He said it like a joke that he thought I’d find funny.

  “No. I won’t, but if it will make you feel better to think so then have at it,” I said and hung up.

  A Step Forward

  After Jason, I decided to focus on me. I’d been his girlfriend for the last five years and sadly, I wasn’t broken up because our relationship ended. I didn’t feel like our parting was the end of the world. I didn’t cry and blubber like my friends did when they went through a breakup. I saw it as an opportunity, a door opening to the next step in my life. Jason Dean was a steppingstone, but I wasn’t in a hurry to explore another guy. I poured myself into studying. I graduated from The University of Jacksonville with a degree in English.

  I loved the literature that I studied during my time there. I read the classics: Wuthering Heights, David Copperfield, Pride and Prejudice, The Great Gatsby, The Catcher in the Rye, A Tale of Two Cities. The list is long, and that’s just the classic novels.

  I read with furious abandon. I loved them all, modern classics as well. I wrote papers on the books I read, I wrote papers on writing, and I wrote papers on the basics of the English language.

  I crammed a four-year degree into three years by doubling up on classes, and graduated at twenty-one with honors. When I walked across the stage, my dad beamed like a beacon on a dark harbor.

  I remained single. I went through all three years casually going out with groups of friends. I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. I went out with a few guys on dates, but nothing ever matured into a potential relationship. I think ‘matured’ was the key to that. I’d had a boy.

  Now what?

  I was pondering what came next in my life when I received a phone call that changed things for me in a big way.

  “Louisa, it’s Professor Duncan.”

  “Hello,” I said cheerily, but wondered why he was calling. “How are you?”

  “I’ve seen better days, but I’ve seen worser ones,” he joked.

  “Is everything all right?” He’d piqued my interest.

  “Yes, yes,” he replied. “I’ve been thinking I need to slow down a bit. I’m not ready to retire, but I am ready to hand some things off. Are you interested in hearing my thoughts?”

  “Yes, sir, of course,” I replied, anxiously.

  “Will you join me for coffee at the campus café in the morning – say 8:45?”

  “I’d be happy to. I’m anxious to hear what you have to say. I’ll see you then.”

  When my dad came in from work, I was fidgeting. I had dinner ready, but I was wringing my hands, anxious for him to get there.

  “Something smells good! What’s the occasion?” He flashed a wink my way, seeing Mom’s favorite apron tied around my waist.

  “Well, I’m not quite sure, but I’m happy tonight, and I decided to turn that happiness into dinner!” I laughed. “I’ll tell you when we sit down to eat. It’s almost ready; go wash up.”

  When we finally sat down, I was sitting on the edge of my seat. I felt my stomach flutter with anxiousness.

  “Lulu, what is going on?” he asked with a smile.

  When I replied, the words bubbled from me as I told him about the call from Professor Duncan.

  “I have no idea what he has in mind for me, but I am anxious to find out!”

  The next morning, I dressed for a casual business meeting, making sure my choice was interview appropriate. I wanted to be ready for whatever was about to happen.

  “Good morning, Miss Welk. Thank you for joining me.” He motioned for me to sit down and waved for a young woman to come to the table. “A staff privilege,” he said with a smile.

  We ordered coffee and made small talk. Once it was served, he began. I fiddled with the napkin in my lap, finally clasping my hands together to hold back the nervousness I felt.

  “As I told you, I’m not ready to retire – yet – but I’m ready to scale back. Have you decided what’s next for you? Because, Louisa, there must be a next step.” He said the words so serious, so fatherly, that I set up straight to listen. “You have a talent that I’ve only found in a few students during my tenure. You could write the phone book and it would be an interesting read.”

  “I haven’t decided what’s next. I keep going back and forth. To be honest, I needed a little time for me. I’ve worked so hard that I didn’t focus on anything but school.”

  “I’d like for you to consider an internship at the university.”

  “I’m not quite sure what that means, sir.” I felt my heart race.

  “I’d like for you to work with me as a research assistant. You will assist in the curriculum, so I guess that means that you dig and I produce,” he said, with a smile. “There is no paycheck, but you can continue on at the university taking classes toward your master’s degree, and it’s free to you. You have to go on, Louisa.”

  “Free education? Sign me up!” The words rushed out, excitedly.

  “I’d like you to meet with the other professors in the English department; they all know you, and they’re ready to bring you in, there’s just a process. The biggest thing, Louisa, is the next step. You can go on to become a teacher.”

  I felt like I’d just won the lottery.

  Dad and I talked about it, and with the ability to continue my education for free, he wasn’t concerned about the lack of a paycheck.

  “This is your home, Lulu. Go get your smarts so you’re ready to move on. Take this opportunity and run like hel
l with it.”

  In reality, I think he didn’t want me to leave him.

  The next morning, I called the professor. “When do I start?”

  “I’m happy to receive this call, Miss Welk. The last Monday in July, two weeks before classes start. Enjoy a few weeks off. I’ll see you soon.”

  When I arrived at the administration office at the university, my badge was waiting. It was official. Ms. Louisa Welk – English Literature Research Assistant. It was exciting!

  I went through orientation and they gave me my schedule. Professor Duncan had a list of works he’d be focusing on for his curriculum this semester and I got busy.

  I became the coffee wench for the department and the go-to girl for anything they needed to complete the information they’d be presenting to the students. I loved it. Through my research, I was introduced to more literary works that I was unaware of. Through it all, between my work and my classes for my master’s degree, my dad worried that the amount of time I was putting in kept me from having a social life.

  I didn’t feel like I was missing anything. At this rate I’ll have my master’s by the end of my twelve-month research stint.

  Jason returned to his hometown with a parade in his honor. Jacksonville was overwhelmed with media and television coverage as the number three draft pick, by the Minnesota Vikings for quarterback, returned to his roots. I was genuinely happy for him. His dream had come true, but I had no desire to see him. He was in town for four days. He called on the third day.

  “Hey, Lu,” he said when I answered. I started not to answer it, but I was curious as to why he felt the need to call.

  “Hello, Jason.”

  “I heard you’re a big deal at the university,” he said. I heard pride in his voice. “I knew you’d go far; you’re so smart.”