Ben was sitting in the back of his Strategic Marketing class, the pencil in his hand bustling with activity at is danced on his notebook. His face was stern as he switched his gaze back and forth from writing his notes, to the front of the class, watching and listening to Professor Tremblay teach. He nodded his head in appreciation at his hard-working attitude and note-taking ability. Okay he was doodling her ass…
…
Either way, he smiled with achievement as he completed his drawing of her bent over her desk with her back-mounds up in the air. He lifted up the notebook and held it in front of his face, getting a closer look at his masterpiece. Sitting next to him was Charlotte, her eyes narrowed and her mouth gaping as she stared at this piece of work—Ben. 'Wow, he was drawing that for an hour…'
She was shocked at his talent, because it took him that long to draw a bent-over stick figure with two big circles at the back for a butt.
…
'He should stick to photography.' Everyone had their talents…
To be fair, this wasn't the brush Ben used best…
However, despite despising his drawing skills, when Ben turned his head, noticing Charlotte looking at him, her cheeks turned red as she hurried to avert her gaze, turning it back to her own class notes. Ben blinked, uncertain at the reason for her reaction, until he glanced back at his doodle, and realized the cause. 'She was scared by my talent…'
He sighed and shook his head. Still, he put down the notebook and turned the page. While his head was facing down, Charlotte's twiddled her fingers and couldn't help but turn to look at Ben again.
He noticed her from the corner of his eye. 'She's looking at me. She probably wants to talk about something. I know… She wants to know where my ideas come from…' So, he turned to her and prepared to explain the source of his creativity…
Yet, with his finger up in the air and his mouth open, he froze in place, because she'd turned her head at light speed back down to her paper, ignoring him and pretending she'd never looked at him. This made Ben a bit dejected, because he didn't get a chance to tell her about his favorite PornHub playlist.
…
Still, he realized she wasn't ready to know about it. After all, the sun was too bright to look at…
So he turned back to his notebook, and as he looked down again, Charlotte's head once again slowly rotated to face him.
He caught her from the corner of his vision again, as he narrowed his eyes. 'She's beginning to believe…'
…
Even though he didn't have full confidence that she was ready to know the truth…he was still willing to share it, since he didn't want Charlotte to be demotivated for her entire future life due to the regret of not knowing…
So he turned to her. "It's bootyliciou—"
However, the sentence got caught in his throat, because she was once again turned back around and ignoring him.
Releasing a light sigh, Ben turned back to his work, until he saw her face him again. He turned to her once more. "You—"
Her gaze was back to her paper…and he could only turn back around.
Like this, the two repeated this dance, Charlotte stealing glances at him and Ben failing to make conversation, the two turning back and forth.
"So—"
…
"What—"
…
"HD filter—"
…
Regardless of Ben's willingness to spread the holy c*ckspel… Charlotte wouldn't give him an opportunity to preach on the good hub… He could only sigh and shake his head with unwillingness, giving up as he returned to his notes. 'Humans are not ready to escape their shackles… They know not of true freedom…' He was referring to premium.
…
As for Charlotte, her heart was beating fast as she swallowed. It's not that she didn't want to talk to Ben but that she no longer knew how. Ever since their last time together at the Photography Club, that event changed how she looked at him. No, not him making out with Stacy and singing A Bittersweet Simp-Honey to Darryl…
Although she couldn't forget the image of Ben doing a push up on the floor as he sang that lullaby into the ear of the crawling and whimpering Darryl.
…
No, it wasn't that though. It was everything, everything with Ben in the recent past: him helping her, him standing up for her, him showing her how to be herself. And also, him just displaying tremendous ability and courage, regardless of whatever obstacle stood in his way. With this kind of man in front of her, despite having had sworn off men, Charlotte couldn't help but…feel something.
So with her shy personality, how could she stand to talk to Ben now like they'd used to? Her heart jumped her throat every time he looked into her eyes, even if half of that time, he'd make some idiotic perverted expression…
Somehow, she couldn't get a word out to him, even when he had his tongue rolled out and was raising his eyebrows at a fast over and over…
So when he tried to speak to her, her body turned away and hid on instinct. It was already an accomplishment for her just to be able to continue sitting next to him in class. This extreme physical and emotional reaction, although Charlotte found it challenging to admit, she knew what it meant. 'I…like him…'
She was a self-acclaimed lesbian, and although her current situation was a result of childhood trauma, she'd already accepted her stance for years. Yet, here Ben was, shaking that foundation with earthquake-like intensity. Charlotte didn't know how to deal with it. She didn't know how to talk to him, even though she looked forward to seeing him. On the way to class, she even smiled at the thought and broke into skipping, before she stumbled and almost fell on her face due to her clumsiness…
Still, now that they were in class, she didn't know what to do. Then, the bell rang, and as Charlotte was lost in her thoughts, her shoulders shook all of a sudden, because she heard Ben's voice. Yet, he wasn't talking to her. No, as Charlotte turned her head once again, this time, she didn't turn away, because Ben wasn't there. Instead, she saw his back, as he spoke to a girl much more beautiful than her. It was Olivia, and as Charlotte watched them two leave together, she experienced an intense feeling facing Ben's direction once again, but it was a much different one this time—regret.
