I have taken a few other liberties as well. I've also probably made mistakes that I haven't noticed, not only about the Thomas-Davis area, but about Morgantown, Grafton, Boston, and Nantucket. Some of these places I know only through a judicious use of Google Maps and internet searches. So, forgive me, please, if I've got it wrong, and try to enjoy the story for the fantasy that it is.
Thank you for reading, and if you ever do find yourself in Thomas, you really must go to The Purple Fiddle. I insist.
by V. J. Chambers
“You turned off my alarm!” I screamed at the half-naked guy in my bed. I was pretty sure I’d known his name last night when we’d stumbled through my apartment door and collapsed back here. I was pretty sure. Hadn’t I called out something while he was pulling off my clothes?
On the other hand, now that I was thinking about it, I didn’t think the sex had actually been that good. I’d had to tell him at least five time to be more gentle, and he hadn’t listened. At all. I’d call him Rough Hands, since I couldn’t think of his name.
He raised his head sleepily from the pillow. Yuck. Had his hair been that greasy last night? Had his nose been that big?
Ugh. Why did I do this to myself?
“It was loud,” he said. “And I’m trying to sleep.”
“I told you last night that I had to get up early, didn’t I?” I was holding the alarm in my hand, still staring at the numbers. It hadn’t sunk in how late I was.
“What’s the big deal? So you blow off class.”