The Morning After – Sarah

I woke up a few minutes before my alarm actually sounded. I set my phone to ring at 1030 in the morning, but the chirping of the birds outside my window got to me first. The sunlight poured in softly through the blinds, making tiny lines of light across my bed. It was a beautiful day. Grabbing my phone to set the alarm off, I made my way to my dresser and sat there. My reflection looking straight back at me from the big round mirror in front of me.

“Oh Sarah, you did it again.” I muttered.

I grabbed my hairbrush and started running it through my messy morning hair. I let my thoughts wander with each stroke. Last night was my fourth night with Sir Michael. Obviously I knew all that was wrong with what we were doing. My family who is deeply religious, would go ballistic if they found out. My friends would be shocked. My life in the university would be ruined. I saw all the signs, I felt all the warnings, I just…didn’t care.

The brush strokes continued.

There was just something about him. I mean, of course he was smart, and handsome, that goes without saying. Almost all of my girl classmates, and even some of the boys, had a crush on him. We all joked about how Physics class quickly became our favorite right after the first day. But for me, it’s more than just a schoolgirl crush. I mean, I’m 21! I’ve had boyfriends before, but this is…different. It’s not just infatuating or exciting, it’s more passion that I have ever felt in anything in my life. There is a mystery to him that I can’t quite put my finger on. I may have my hands all over him, but it’s like there is a piece of him that I can’t get a hold on, a side of him I can’t reach. And that makes me even more eager to try.

Again, the feeling of just being near him rose up within me. My body warmed inside the big T-shirt that I slept in. His hands running through my thighs, his cool breath on my chest, my arms wrapped around his strong back. The memory was intoxicating. And I could feel it as clear as if I was still there the night before, even as the bright light of the morning sun seeped through my windows into my room.

“Sarah!”

The voice jolted me back to reality. It was my mother calling from outside the room.

“Are you dressed? You don’t want to be late for school.”

I was almost 22 years old, at the last year of university as a Science major. And here she was calling out to me as if I was still barely 12.

“Coming Mom.” I replied.

Me, my mother, and my younger brother live together in a house at a private subdivision just outside the university. Mother stays in the house, homeschooling my little brother Jacob. He is 7. Dad passed away. He was killed in action overseas fighting against rebels. The Army told us that he was a hero, but he’s gone. That was six years ago.

A quick shower and an even quicker change of clothes and I was out the door and down to the living room. My room was on the second floor. The only room there. It was more of an attic than a room really. It had a bed, my dresser, and a small bathroom. That was it. It was all I really needed. My favorite part of the room was the one, big window looking out into the city. It faced the university. From there I could see the buildings where we held our classes, the wide parking lots, and the lush trees that covered the campus. I loved it.

“I’m here mom, hi Jakey.”

I tussled my younger brother’s hair as he was eating scrambled eggs. My mom handed me a small bag with a food container inside.

“Here’s some food dear, you might get hungry when you get to school.”

It was her favorite chore, preparing food for me. Ever since I could remember, I never walked out the door empty-handed. My mom was a strong woman, and a good mother. When my dad passed, she quit her job as an attorney for the city and started to stay home with us full-time. She does some consulting every now and then, but she told us, repeatedly, that her priority now is her family. Mom can get overbearing at times, as all mothers do, but I truly love her.

“Thanks mom, love you.”

I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and raced out the door. The keys to my SUV in hand.

It was only a quick 15-minute drive from our place to the university. With heavy traffic, the trip could take up to half an hour. And as it was a Friday today, and at right before noon, the roads were already packed. I was lucky to find an empty parking slot near my building and dashed up the stairs to my classroom on the third floor, the necktie in my uniform whizzing past students and faculty members alike. I hated being late. Miss Daniels is very strict about tardiness in her Poetry class. And although she is a great teacher, she gets pretty scary when she’s angry. Me and my classmates made sure to stay on her good side. I made it just in time through the door and into my seat when she entered the room.

“Good afternoon class.” Miss Daniels greeted.

“Good afternoon mam.” We replied.

Class has begun, only two more subjects and I would be in Physics, and see Sir Michael again.