04 Bennett
by V.E. on April 20th, 2008
filed under writing
[This is the first draft of the fourth part of my Master's thesis/book, Confession.
Comments and questions are always appreciated.]
I’m sure that if I begin at the beginning, I will bore you all with how Bennett and I met; suffice to say, it was during our first year in college. I was dating another boy then, but somehow that didn’t seem to matter to Bennett.
I don’t remember how we began talking, but he says it was when I started waiting for him after German class so that we could walk back to the dorms together. That may be true; I vaguely remember something to that effect. I do remember, however, the night that Nathan, my then-boyfriend, and Bennett met.
Ben and I were studying for some German test in my dorm room. Irregular verbs in the past tense, I think it was, or something equally heinous. He was sitting on a chair and I on my bed. We were quizzing each other, back and forth, back and forth.
“Sein,” I said.
“I know ‘sein’ in the present tense,” he replied, and then rattled off: “Ich bin, du bist, er ist. Wir sind, ihr seid, sie sind.”
“Good, but that’s not what we’re being tested on tomorrow,” I grinned, “C’mon, you know this. Ich…” I began for him, then trailed off, waiting for him to continue.
“Ich war…” he paused, then went on in English, “you were, he was. We were, y’all were, they were.”
“Ooooookay. Looks like we have some work to do,” I sighed.
“My turn,” he said. “Haben.”
“What? Aw, man! ‘Haben’ is the worst irregular verb there is!” I complained, stretching out flat on my back on the bed.
I tried to mask my wince, but he noticed and asked, “Wie geht’s?”
“Es verletzt,” I answered.
“What does?” Bennett pressed, switching to English so there would be no confusion.
“My back. I have a bad back,” I stretched my arms up behind my head, wincing again.
“Turn over. I’ll give you a massage.” He motioned for me to make room for him on the bed.
“Really? Sweet.” I smiled and let him help me flip onto my stomach.
He moved over me, resting a leg on either side of my torso so that his knees were around my hips. Taking one of my arms in each hand, he pulled me so that my back was as flat as it could be without being poked or prodded.
“Wow. You have the worst back I’ve ever seen,” he said, running his fingers over my back to take in the terrain.
I snorted. “I told you, I have a bad back.”
“I guess it’s not the worst,” he corrected. “My grandfather’s is worse, but not by much—and he’s fifty years older than us.”
I frowned into the sheets. “And exactly how many backs have you seen in this context?”
Ben pressed hard and I squeaked in protest. “If it hurts too much, let me know,” he said before answering. “I’ve studied pressure points and have practiced on my family—and they don’t mind telling me what I’m doing wrong.”
“Ouch!” I cried before I could stop myself.
“It’s amazing how quickly the body adjusts, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I replied. The pain had lessened somewhat, even though the pressure had remained consistent.
The dorm room door jangled with my roommate’s keys and swung open, clanging against the painted cinderblock wall.
My voice was muffled, but I managed a “Hi, Daylin!” before Bennett’s hands moved onto an especially sore spot and I made a noise that sounded like I was a wounded animal.
“Hi, my lovely,” she responded before dropping her stuff on her bed. “You must be Bennett,” she said to him, and he extended a hand long enough to shake hers before returning his attention to the stubborn knots in my back.
“Ow! Ow! Too hard!” I protested.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, “I’m used to working on people who are used to the pain.”
Daylin was standing in the open doorway when Nathan came looking for me.
“Day, have you seen Vi—” he began before looking past her into the room. “What the hell?” he sputtered. Bennett looked up, and I half-twisted to see my boyfriend better.
“Hi Nate,” I said cheerily, before seeing his face. “What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean ‘What’s wrong’?” he asked defensively.
I sat up, pushing Ben off of me in the process. “We were studying and when I mentioned that my back hurt, Bennett offered a massage.”
“By sitting on you?” Nathan countered.
I shrugged, confused. Ben was stuffing his German work into his red sling bag. He looked up at me and raised an eyebrow.
“I’d better get going anyway,” he said. “Good to meet you, Daylin.” And he was out the door—and out of the line of fire.
“Sketchy,” Daylin said under her breath.
“No kidding,” Nate agreed, looking pointedly at me. “Vi, what the hell was that?”
“I told you!” I replied, bristling at his implication. “He was just giving me a massage. It was totally innocent!”
“Maybe for you, Vi,” he answered, “but not him. Any guy sitting on top of a pretty girl like that is not innocent.”
————
When I asked Bennett about it later, he confirmed that he had been… somewhat less than innocent in what I thought was an innocent situation.
“But I told you I have a boyfriend,” I said dryly. “Multiple times, if I recall.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said, “I just assumed it was something like having someone back home still in high school or something.”
I shook my head. “But you know Nathan’s our age and goes to this school.”
“Yeah,” he admitted, “but I’d never seen him before that night.”
