Connected by the Tide Read online

  He knew Cory was home when the front door slammed. He always threw the door closed, practically ripping it off its hinges. It was annoying when it happened late at night when Henry was sleeping. He used to stay at Sydney’s on the weekend to avoid the drama of the house, but even then it was just an excuse to see her. He had other friends and other places he could go.

  When the headboard started to slam into his wall, he sighed. Cory always juggled a handful of girls, bringing them back to his place to be loud and infuriating. The girl started to moan. He recognized her voice. It was Emily.

  The board knocked into the wall harder as Cory did his thing. Her moans turned into screams. Henry ignored them and tried to finish his essay, but the sound was distracting. He grabbed his headphones, but he still felt the headboard thump into his wall. When he thought about sex, he always thought about the same person; Sydney.

  He started to daydream about her. Whenever she wore her white swimsuit, he always felt a boner form in his trunks. That was usually why he jumped in the water first, hoping the cold water would keep him limp. She probably wouldn’t notice anyway.

  The thought of her in a swimsuit made his cock spring to life. When he was hard, he became obsessed with the idea of Sydney. Her nipples always got pointy when she swam in the water. The thin fabric stuck to her round tits, perfectly forming to the contours of her body. He swallowed the lump in this throat when he thought about it, feeling more aroused by the second.

  Her string bikini was always a little loose. There were too many times when he wanted to pull the string, letting it fall from her hips. Her ass was round and lifted, showing her slender thighs underneath. When Henry imagined kissing her, his dick twitched. He glanced at his nightstand, knowing he kept a bottle of Vaseline and a roll of toilet paper inside. The headboard continued to slam against the wall. Music played in his ears, but he didn’t hear it. Instead, he imagined Sydney moaning, whispering his name.

  His breathing increased as his arousal took over his mind. Ashamed of his actions, he opened the drawer and pulled out the bottle. He felt his cheeks redden when he knew what he was about to do, but he was so horny he didn’t care. He opened the picture folder on his laptop and found a picture of Sydney in her swimsuit, the white one he loved so much. She was standing next to Nancy as they smiled at the camera, a full-body photo. Henry didn’t even notice Nancy in the picture. As he rubbed the lubricant onto his cock, he only stared at Sydney. His thumb caressed the tip before he rubbed it down his shaft to his balls. His breathing hitched as he felt the pleasure run through him. He stared at Sydney as he started to jerk himself hard.

  His thoughts turned to his fantasies. Sydney was his. She was lying underneath him, her slender legs wrapped around his waist. Her nails dug into his back, rocking him from below. Her voluptuous tits shook as he fucked her, her green eyes shining bright as he moved deeper inside her.

  “Sydney.” He jerked himself harder, squeezing tightly as he moved all the way down his shaft. His tip was tender when he touched it, making it twitch every time. Henry felt dirty, but he kept going, pumping himself. The orgasm formed in his stomach, warning him of his impending ecstasy. He grabbed a tissue and held it over his tip, knowing he was about to explode. Imagining her whispering his name, telling him she loved him, made him crumble. He exploded inside the tissue, coming more than he had in a long time. He yelped as he depleted himself, coming hard.

  When he was finished, he caught his breath, overcoming the high he was feeling. He wiped himself off then threw the soiled tissues in the wastebasket. He closed his laptop, not able to look at Sydney’s picture for a moment longer. He was ashamed of his actions. He’d tried beating off to porn, and it worked most of the time, but it was nothing compared to the bliss he felt when he thought of Sydney. It always felt a million times better. He knew this behavior needed to stop. It was disgusting and wrong. She was marrying someone else. He would be livid if some guy was jerking himself while thinking about his fiancée.

  Exhausted from his orgasm, he lay down and went to sleep. When he woke up, it was the next morning. He grabbed his stuff before he showered and got ready.

  When he arrived in the parking lot, he saw Sydney and Coen walking toward his car. He never felt more awkward in his life. The last thing he did last night was picture Sydney as he jacked off. He couldn’t look her in the eye, or Coen—definitely not Coen.

  “I’m late for class,” he said as he walked by.

  “It’s only seven-thirty,” Sydney said, looking at her watch.

  “I have to meet with the professor,” he lied, walking past them.

  Sydney and Coen watched him leave.

  Henry walked across campus until he entered his building. Since he still had thirty minutes until class began, he sat in the lobby and opened his textbook.

  “You got the right one.”

  He looked up and smiled. “Yeah, I finally figured it out.”

  “It took you long enough.”

  “Two tries.”

  She sat beside him. “What did you do yesterday?”

  He felt awkward again. “Homework. You?”

  “Nothing much. Took my dog on a walk then went swimming.”

  “In the ocean?”

  “No. I’m not crazy. I have a pool.”

  “Oh. Cool.”

  “It’s pretty big.”

  “Even cooler.”

  “Are you ready for class?”

  “I think so.”

  “It seems like you know your stuff.”

  “I like literature.”

  “Since you’re an English major, that’s a given.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Well, shall we?” she asked.

  Henry liked her confidence. She had a natural poise about her. She stood up straight when she walked, and she carried herself like she was professional. Her long blonde hair was soft and smooth, reminding him of silk. Her white shorts made her legs look darker and more toned. She was definitely a beach beauty. When he glanced at her ass, it was tight and lifted. He liked it.

  She turned around, catching him. “What are you doing?”

  “Uh, I was just looking for my pencil.”

  “I have my eye on you.”

  He smiled, pleased by her easy-going attitude. “Oh no.”

  “I’m a force to be reckoned with. Just ask my brothers,” she said as she walked to their classroom. He stared at her ass the entire time. It was the first time he’d checked out a girl since Sydney. They sat together in the back of the classroom.

  The teacher walked inside a moment later and started to lecture. Henry kept glancing at Ren, noticing the blonde strands of her hair. They reminded him of the sunlight, bright and shining. He wondered what it smelled like. He was normally an ass or a boob man, but he was attracted to her legs the most. They were thin but full of muscle. He could tell she was athletic. Instead of paying attention to class, he kept glancing at her, imagining her ass in her shorts again.

  When the class was over, they went to the next one, where Henry sat and gawked at her the whole time. He forced himself to pay attention to the lecture, but he kept glancing at her every few minutes. He felt her gaze on him as well. The sexual tension was between them. He felt it, and so did she.

  The teacher announced the end of the class, and they left the room. Henry walked out first then turned to Ren, wanting to talk to her.

  “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said with a smile. She walked away, shaking her ass as she moved. He stared at her with sinister thoughts. She turned around and pointed at him. “I said I had my eye on you.”

  “Damn. I got caught again.”

  “You’re lucky I’m too nice to beat you up.” She walked around the corner and disappeared.

  Henry stood there for a moment, staring at the empty hallway. He shouldered his bag, then left, walking to the cafeteria. He had a smile on his face, moved by Ren and her sexiness. She wasn’t just cute, but funny. Normally, he wasn’t into blondes, but
he was into her.

  When he walked in the cafeteria and sat down, Sydney was practically sitting on Coen’s lap, rubbing her nose against his. Nancy was texting on her phone, oblivious to their affection. All the happiness Henry felt disappeared. The bile rose to his throat, and his stomach hurt. He hated seeing Sydney with him. He tried to pretend he was okay with it, but he wasn’t. It was agony. Sydney and Coen didn’t even notice his presence. It was like he wasn’t even there.

  He stood up then left the cafeteria, pushing through the doors as he moved to the parking lot. He still had more classes that afternoon, but he wasn’t going. He couldn’t concentrate, and he couldn’t think about anything but the pain. As soon as he got a grip on himself, finally felt normal again, Sydney had to break his heart by practically humping Coen in his fucking chair. When he reached his car, he slammed his fist into the door, stinging his knuckles. He shook his hand, trying to dissipate the pain. There was a dent in the panel. He was too pissed to care.

  “Henry?”

  He turned and saw Ren standing there. “Yeah?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he said as he wiped his knuckles on his jeans.

  She wasn’t buying it, but she didn’t challenge him. “Is your hand okay?”

  He didn’t show it to her. “Yeah.”

  She stared at him for a long time, unsure what to say. Henry waited for her to leave, to let him demolish his car in peace, but she stuck around.

  “Well, I hope you feel better tomorrow,” she said as she walked away.

  Henry sighed as he watched her go. He’d finally made a friend, and he chased her away. He wished he would just get over Sydney already. He got inside his car then drove to a coffee shop down the road. If he went home, he knew what he would do, and he had to avoid that. The Vaseline bottle was sitting in his nightstand, ready to be opened. He shook his head and ignored the thoughts.

  The inside of the coffee shop was dark and calm. Jazz music was playing in the background. A lot of students came here to study since it was near the university and so close to the ocean. There were groups huddled at tables and couples talking quietly. Henry ordered his drink then sat down, putting his laptop and papers around him.

  After reading a few chapters, he looked up and felt his heart skip a beat. Ren was sitting across the room, ducked in a corner. She was reading the same book he was, and she held a highlighter in her fingertips.

  Henry stared at her for a long time, noticing the slender curves of her face and the brightness of her eyes. Her legs were crossed under the table, and he couldn’t help but notice them. They were firm and tight, like she was a distance runner, and she wore sandals that revealed her perfectly manicured toes. They were the nicest feet he had ever seen. He felt awkward when he realized he was staring at her toes. His eyes glanced up to her chest. She was wearing a yellow top, and her curves were noticeable through the shirt. When Henry realized he was getting hard from staring at her breasts, he closed his eyes and looked down, knowing the thoughts were inappropriate and wrong.

  He read the same sentence three times then gave up. Now he couldn’t pay attention when he knew she was just a few feet away. She was like a flashlight staring directly into his eyes, blinding him. Every time he tried to think of something else, her feet or her legs would pop into his mind. Frustrated with the distraction, he closed the book.

  He became very nervous when he realized what he was going to do. He rose from his seat then walked across the room toward her. When he approached her table, he stood there awkwardly, waiting for him to acknowledge her.

  She looked up at him and smiled. “Hey.”

  “Hi,” he said as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Can I sit down for a second?”

  “Sure.”

  He sat down across from her, looking into her green eyes. “I wanted to apologize for earlier. I swear that I’m not normally temperamental or angry. You just caught me on a bad day.”

  “There’s no need for an apology.”

  “I’m just sorry if I was rude to you.”

  “We all have bad days.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief. She was easygoing and cool. He didn’t expect someone so beautiful to be so approachable and forgiving.

  She glanced at his hand. “It looks pretty swollen.”

  “Huh?”

  “Your hand.”

  “Oh.” He turned it over and looked at it. “It’ll be fine.”

  “If you say so.”

  He waited for her to ask him why he was so angry, but she never did. He was relieved. Now he liked her even more. He looked at her textbook. “I was just reading, too.”

  She nodded. “Fascinating, huh?”

  “Yeah. Since I’m doing the same work as you, how about we work together?”

  “That sounds like a good plan.”

  He smiled. “I’ll grab my stuff.”

  “Okay.”

  After he retrieved his things, he sat across from her. He still felt nervous around her even though she was really nice, nicer than she should be. If he’d seen someone punching their car, he would stay away. “I’m really not an abusive guy or anything.”

  That made her a little uncomfortable. “Uh, okay.”

  He sighed. “I’m sorry. I just—”

  “You don’t need to explain yourself. Let’s forget it happened.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  Now he thought she was just awesome. “Thanks.”

  She turned back to her page and started highlighting. “I’m on chapter three.”

  “Me too.”

  “Looks like we’re both fast readers.”

  “How about we write our essays then we switch? We can grade and critique each other’s work.”

  Her eyes widened. “That sounds great.”

  “Cool.” He continued reading through the text while she did the same. He peeked up at her a few times, noticing how her hair would fall from behind her ear and cover her face. He had the urge to touch it. When he recognized his perverted thoughts, he concentrated on his work.

  He typed his essay while she wrote hers on paper. After she was done, she transferred it to the computer.

  “You write everything by hand?” he asked.

  “It’s a habit.”

  He glanced at the paper. “You have beautiful handwriting.”

  “It’s beautiful but illegible,” she said with a laugh.

  “Does your hand hurt?”

  “No. I write everything by hand. It helps me organize my thoughts. On a computer, I type so fast that I jump ahead. Writing longhand forces me to go slow.”

  “I guess that makes sense.”

  “How do you write?”

  “On my computer.”

  “What do you write?”

  He shrugged. “Short stories.”

  “I do too. Maybe we should exchange and critique each other.”

  Henry had never shown anyone his work before. “Yeah, maybe.”

  She smiled. “Never show anyone?”

  “What gave me away?”

  “I can tell when you’re nervous. One side of your mouth smiles while the other doesn’t.”

  He felt his mouth move against his will and form the awkward grin she just spoke about. His cheeks reddened when he realized she was right.

  “I think it’s cute.” She held his gaze for a moment before she looked down.

  “Well, that’s a relief. I know I look like a total dork.”

  “Dorks are cute.”

  “I guess I don’t mind being a dork, then.”

  “I’m done. You want to switch?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  They switched computers. When he placed her computer before him, he noticed it was a white Mac but with a purple covering. The background of her computer was a picture of a huge shaggy dog. She had her arms wrapped around him and her lips were puckered like she was kissing the camera. They both wore antlers and red noses. He assumed she’d taken it
over Christmas break. Against his will, he chuckled.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Your picture. It’s cute.”

  “Me and Perry?”

  “Is Perry your dog?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s nice.”

  “Thanks.” Her cheeks flushed and she looked away, staring at his computer screen.

  He hoped she wouldn’t go through his history or see his most recent websites. Just like any other guy, he had porn on his laptop. She didn’t mention it, so he assumed she didn’t notice.

  Henry read her paper and felt his heart hammer in his chest. Her work was phenomenal. Just a simple sentence was written with such precision and amazing word choice that her meaning leapt off the page. “Ren, you’re an amazing writer.”

  Her cheeks turned a darker shade than before. “Thank you. You’re very talented too.”

  He shook his head. “No. Your work is exemplary.”

  She tucked her hair behind her ear, not knowing what to say.

  “What do you want to do with your degree?”

  “Be a teacher.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing. You’re just so talented that I assumed you would be a writer for the New York Times or a major magazine.”

  “Well, they don’t have any of those around here.”

  “You could move.”

  She didn’t respond to that comment.

  He looked back at the screen and read through the paper. He didn’t have any critiques. There wasn’t a single spelling mistake or grammatical error. “I have nothing to say. It’s perfect.”

  “Well, I think you should change your last paragraph. It sounds a little redundant. I took out a few sentences and dispersed them through the page. Also, your citations were in the wrong format. I changed them.”

  He took the computer back and looked through them. “Thanks for the help.”

  “No problem.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help to you.”

  She smiled. “You did help.”

  “Maybe your ego.”