across campus with Ryan trailing two feet behind me, looking huge and intimidating, and lacking in a backpack to label him a student. He didn’t blend in, and I kept seeing curious glances at him, then at me. People were trying to puzzle out who he was, and what he was to me. It made me super self-conscious. It also occurred to me about twenty minutes too late that most likely I was wearing the same clothes as the day before. I hoped no one was observant enough to notice. Normally, I quiet around campus, going to class and working hard and not spending a lot of time socializing. I had friends, but I wasn’t necessarily an attention grabber.
Today was different. It felt like everyone I walked past was staring at me and I was mortified. But it was probably just my own imaginary audience. Probably no one was behaving any differently than usual. But then I had a thought. What if someone had tried to hurt me? Where they watching me now? Waiting?
I was psyching myself out.
Needing a distraction as I walked down the sidewalk, I pulled my phone out and checked it. I had a text from Brandy, which I answered.
Julia? Really?
I know , I typed back. I can’t explain it.
I also had a text from Juan.
Hey, how’s it going?
I wasn’t sure I even wanted to bother answering him. He had been super pushy, asking to go home with me after two dates. Not my thing. Obviously.
Shoving my phone back in my pocket, I realized Ryan was talking to someone. Turning around, I saw there was a girl in step with him smiling up the long length of him and laughing. He was nodding.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Ryan glanced in my direction, and shook his head slightly. I had no idea what that was supposed to mean. I wasn’t well versed in silent bodyguard communication. Determined to be normal, whatever that was, I called my mom. We had been texting, but I needed to hear the sound of her voice.
“Is everything okay?” she said as a greeting.
“Yes, I’m fine. I’m going to class.”
“Where is Ryan?”
“He’s trailing me. It’s weird. Do I really need to do this?”
“Yes. Listen to what he says.”
For some reason that made my cheeks heat up. I was going to blame it on the hike across the campus. But I knew that was crap because I went running almost every day. “I am, Mom. But this is just all insane, seriously. Did you know Mickey does stuff that is illegal?” I lowered my voice to a whisper.
“What? I can’t hear you. By the way, why on earth were you calling yourself Julia?” she asked.
“How should I know?” I lied. “I hit my head, remember? Maybe I thought I was Julia Roberts.”
“In which movie? Pretty Woman? God, I love that movie.” My mother sighed in delight. “Why didn’t that ever happen to me? All those years on the pole I only had millionaires buy me drinks and jewelry. I never got carte blanche at a designer clothing store and a marriage proposal.”
“You’re doing better than me, Mom. All I’ve gotten in the last year is a couple of dinners and a picture of Juan’s penis. No millionaires.”
My mother snorted. “What a pig.” Then curiosity crept into her voice. “Was it a good penis?”
“I’m not really sure,” I told her truthfully. It was an ugly son of a gun, that was certain. But what constituted a good penis versus a bad penis? I didn’t know. Given what I had seen of Ryan naked, his was bigger, but he had a good six inches or more on Juan height wise, so that wasn’t unexpected. Width wise it was hard to say. There had been nothing in the picture of Juan to give me the proper scale. And of course, I didn’t have much experience with penises in person. I’d seen a couple, but I hadn’t lingered.
“I would say send it to me, but maybe that would be weird.”
“Yes. Yes, it would.” I loved my mother, but sometimes she forgot that I wasn’t her sister, I was her daughter. Boundaries. I needed them. So I circled back to the movie comment. Watching
Today was different. It felt like everyone I walked past was staring at me and I was mortified. But it was probably just my own imaginary audience. Probably no one was behaving any differently than usual. But then I had a thought. What if someone had tried to hurt me? Where they watching me now? Waiting?
I was psyching myself out.
Needing a distraction as I walked down the sidewalk, I pulled my phone out and checked it. I had a text from Brandy, which I answered.
Julia? Really?
I know , I typed back. I can’t explain it.
I also had a text from Juan.
Hey, how’s it going?
I wasn’t sure I even wanted to bother answering him. He had been super pushy, asking to go home with me after two dates. Not my thing. Obviously.
Shoving my phone back in my pocket, I realized Ryan was talking to someone. Turning around, I saw there was a girl in step with him smiling up the long length of him and laughing. He was nodding.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Ryan glanced in my direction, and shook his head slightly. I had no idea what that was supposed to mean. I wasn’t well versed in silent bodyguard communication. Determined to be normal, whatever that was, I called my mom. We had been texting, but I needed to hear the sound of her voice.
“Is everything okay?” she said as a greeting.
“Yes, I’m fine. I’m going to class.”
“Where is Ryan?”
“He’s trailing me. It’s weird. Do I really need to do this?”
“Yes. Listen to what he says.”
For some reason that made my cheeks heat up. I was going to blame it on the hike across the campus. But I knew that was crap because I went running almost every day. “I am, Mom. But this is just all insane, seriously. Did you know Mickey does stuff that is illegal?” I lowered my voice to a whisper.
“What? I can’t hear you. By the way, why on earth were you calling yourself Julia?” she asked.
“How should I know?” I lied. “I hit my head, remember? Maybe I thought I was Julia Roberts.”
“In which movie? Pretty Woman? God, I love that movie.” My mother sighed in delight. “Why didn’t that ever happen to me? All those years on the pole I only had millionaires buy me drinks and jewelry. I never got carte blanche at a designer clothing store and a marriage proposal.”
“You’re doing better than me, Mom. All I’ve gotten in the last year is a couple of dinners and a picture of Juan’s penis. No millionaires.”
My mother snorted. “What a pig.” Then curiosity crept into her voice. “Was it a good penis?”
“I’m not really sure,” I told her truthfully. It was an ugly son of a gun, that was certain. But what constituted a good penis versus a bad penis? I didn’t know. Given what I had seen of Ryan naked, his was bigger, but he had a good six inches or more on Juan height wise, so that wasn’t unexpected. Width wise it was hard to say. There had been nothing in the picture of Juan to give me the proper scale. And of course, I didn’t have much experience with penises in person. I’d seen a couple, but I hadn’t lingered.
“I would say send it to me, but maybe that would be weird.”
“Yes. Yes, it would.” I loved my mother, but sometimes she forgot that I wasn’t her sister, I was her daughter. Boundaries. I needed them. So I circled back to the movie comment. Watching
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