Who needs a good night sleep when you open your apartment door to find your gorgeous girlfriend standing there, two Starbucks Venti dark roast cups in hand?
“I brought sustenance,” Blanche handed Sasha his coffee and leaned in for a kiss.
Blanche somehow always looked equal parts like the sweetheart girl next door and someone with a dark secret she’d make you beg her to tell. Chicago bound, she wore her long straight blonde layers swept up into a messy bun on the top of her head, bobbing with every step she took. Her soft denim button down hung loose, somehow making Sasha think even more about touching her body than if it had clung tightly. Her tight black jeans almost made it all the way down to her well-loved Birkenstock clogs where her favorite light pink socks peeked out of the heels.
As her tongue slowly ran over his, he could taste the coffee she had sipped on the drive over to his place. His free hand drifted inside her shirt and up the small of her back. Coffee in one hand, Blanche in the other. But before he could discover if her bra was also denim, she slowly pulled away.
“Ready to hit the road? I’ve got the Steve Miller Band to kick us off,” Blanche coyly declared.
Iconic male musicians and his parents? Those were beyond the last things on his mind. Sasha had to find a way to get her into his room or else he’d be doomed to spend the next four hours and 31 minutes replaying this scenario in his head and wishing there had been a different end.
“Almost ready. I have a few more things to pack. Come in for a minute?”
With a nod, Blanche followed him past the kitchenette, down the narrow hallway, past the bathroom, and into his room. His garden apartment was always pretty dark and surprisingly tidy — the latter fact something she always gladly noted.
Sasha made himself busy as he stood in front of his closet. He moved around hangers, tossed t-shirts onto the floor, picked them back up again… buying himself time and trying to figure out the smoothest way to get her undressed. When he turned around, he said a silent prayer of thanks. All the jean clothing that had been on Blanche’s body moments ago were now lying in a pile next to his bed. Mystery solved: Her bra was not denim.
She reached around behind her back with both arms, slowly unhooking the cream cotton bralette. Blanche casually took it off, the straps falling down her arms leaving her completely bare. With an over-the-top wink, she let out a giggle and squealed “Spring break!” From the very first time they hung out, it always felt like she could read his mind. Add this to the evidence. Sasha dove straight for her on his bed and, mid-air, decided that whatever was in store for them in Chicago… this was already the best Spring Break ever.
An hour later they piled into her hunter green 4Runner, Jungle Love blasting, as they drove out of Oxford toward Sasha’s family. The trip flew by, as time must when you’re falling in love (with a stomach full of the gas station’s finest Diet Coke, Fritos, and Slim Jims).
For as long as she could remember, Beau Belle had insisted his daughter become a lawyer. There were many reasons for this — like the way she was always collecting tiny pieces of information to form the perfectly crafted argument whenever the moment struck (usually with her mom, Agnes Belle) as well as the joy she seemed to experience from interrogating almost everyone she met. Beau always applauded her inquisitive nature, even when Agnes chided her for being nosey and intrusive (two things a lady should never be).
Naturally, Blanche filled their time on the road asking Sasha any and every question she could think of. Let the examination begin. His responses could determine if it was a direct or cross.
“What were you like as a kid?” Shy, quiet, obsessed with soccer, obsessed with dinosaurs.
“What were you like as a teenager?” Mostly the same, but he didn’t advertise the dinosaur part as much.
“What are your parents like?” Serbian.
“And… What does that mean?” Social, expressive, strong personalities, resilient, spiritual. Did I mention they can get a little… loud?
“What were your girlfriends like in high school?” Nobody special, he was more focused on school work.
Before they knew it, Blanche was driving them right into the Chicago skyline.