I was sitting in the bus stop booth on an unseasonably chilly May evening, wrapped in a jacket and muffler when I heard,
"Hey.. Is that you, Miss Kaul?"
I looked up from the notes I was reading to see a familiar face. It was Laquan, an undergrad student from a class I had TA-ed the previous year. He was in a brand new looking SUV pulled up by the curb.
"Oh hi Laquan." I got up and walked towards him. The wind chill hit me in the face and made me wince.
"..oo...aa..ride" I heard Laquan say, but the wind cut a lot of it off.
"WHAT?" I yelled.
He spoke louder.
"Would you like a ride back to town?"
Oh phew, I had been hoping he'd say that. It was not a great day to be a penniless grad student waiting for a bus on a cold day in the Midwest with groceries from a cheap food store outside of town.
"Yes, please!" I said.
He smiled and got out of the car, as the trunk opened. He helped me put the grocery bags and my backpack in the trunk. Then pointed me to the back seat.
It felt great stepping into the heated car. I noticed there was someone sitting in the front passenger seat.
"Hi." said a sturdy looking black guy I pegged to be in his mid 40s. He had a shaved head and a friendly smile.
"Oh hello." I said.
That's when Laquan got in the driver's seat.
"Miss Kaul, this is my cousin Andre. Andre, this is my teacher from last semester in that really tricky thermo class."
"Not teacher. Teaching assistant." I clarified. I was a student myself. Just a couple of years older than Laquan. TAing was part of my funding.
"Yeah, but you were the real teacher for many of us and you know it, Miss Kaul." he said.
I blushed. Laquan had been a charmer even in class. He never crossed that line between student and faculty, but was always full of nice things to say. Flirting between undergrads and TAs wasn't unheard of.
"We teachers fulfill a vital role even when we don't realize it." Andre sincerely said as Laquan started driving.
"Cuz here teaches high school social studies in Minneapolis."
"Oh that's nice. But really, I'm not a teacher. I was just a TA. And once I get my masters, I'll just be working in some lab, not teaching."
"Awww, you'd make a great professor, Miss Kaul. I'm telling ya, Andre, if not for her, I and half the class would have failed. That Professor Mandlikoff was incomprehensible. If not for her tutoring, I wouldn't have been able to play ball if I had flunked."
Ah yes, that's the reason (one of them anyway ;)) for the title of this story. Laquan was on the university's highly ranked and rated football team. A position called Tight End, which always made me giggle. I had grown up in India and was never really into sports and definitely not into this complicated violent thing called American football. It was a huge deal at my Midwestern university though.
I had noticed when the class started that a lot of students were looking at Laquan and whispering as if he were a celebrity. Turns out he really was! Our university's games were nationally televised and watched by millions. So he wasn't just a typical intercollegiate athlete. He was a star.
"You give me too much credit." I modestly said.
"So where you from Miss Cole?" Andre asked.
"It's not Cole. It's Kaul." Laquan corrected him.
I smiled. He had always made it a point to say names accurately. I guess growing up with a name like Laquan makes you conscious of such things.
"India." I answered.
"I figured that. Where in India? I know a bit of geography."
"Oh right, social studies teacher. I grew up in Bombay, but my family is originally from Kashmir."
"Lovely place. But such a troubled history." Andre said, again impressing me a little. Most Americans know next to nothing about South Asia. But Kashmir wasn't my favorite topic. So I changed topics,
"So Laquan, graduating this semester, huh?"
"Yeah! Can't wait!" he beamed as we got on the freeway in the middle of blizzard like winds in May. Sure, climate change is a hoax.
"You got a job lined up?" I asked and noticed Andre give me a slightly amused look.
"Yeah, got a job out west." he said happily. Andre smirked a little.
Eeeks, I had done this before. Not realized what a big deal this guy was. I remember once, when he was with a few other students asking me questions during office hours, he had asked if he could reschedule an upcoming exam because the team had an away game. I said sure, just get me a verification note from the coach, as was the procedure. And a few other students smirked. One later told me this particular game was going to be televised at primetime and everyone was talking about it and Laquan was a star player and I didn't really need to get any notes to verify that he really would be on the road during the exam. I could just turn the TV on Saturday night.
But Laquan, the sweet guy that he was, returned with a note the next day, on a letterhead and all. One of my friends told me to save the note because it was signed by our coach who was also apparently a big deal. I didn't. I really don't care about sports.
Back in the car, I quickly entered his full name in Google news and discovered that the "job out west" was a contract with an NFL team! Something called a "draft" which to me is just beer or wind. But scrolling the news, seemed like a big deal. Wow, so I was sitting with a legit professional athlete!
I'm not gonna lie. That made me squirm a little bit with desire.
The thing is, I did have a tiny bit of a crush on Laquan. How could anyone not have a crush on Laquan? He was tall, fit, good looking, intelligent, funny, and nice. And he was a flirtatious person too. Without ever crossing the line.
When we first met, I was a fresh off the boat 23 year old grad student and he was a 21 year old junior. Not very far off in terms of age. But I was a TA who did not want to get the reputation for T&A so I kept all my interactions very professional and impersonal.
Laquan had once, during our many thermo office hours sessions, asked me casually if I would like to grab coffee some time. I had blushed like a dork and said, I can't, because I'm a TA and it would be a conflict of interest. And he had just ended that conversation with,
"Cool. I respect that. But you won't be my TA forever, right?" And then ended it with a charming laugh.
That was six months ago. It's not like he had sought me out and asked me out. But we had left things kinda open ended, because my rejection hadn't really been a rejection. Just a thing with rules.
Now there was no conflict of interest and he knew it.
And now I was in the back of his car as he kept giving me gorgeous smiles in the rear view mirror. That suggested he might ask me out again as a last hurrah. I put my phone away and said,
"Congratulations on winning the draft, Laquan."
Andre and Laquan chuckled a little and I realized I had said something wrong again.
"Thank you, Miss Kaul. It did feel like winning something but you don't win a draft. You just get drafted."
"Ah, got it." I said, smiling at him and also at Andre who had been throwing me more than a few glances. Clearly showing some interest.
And maybe it was because I had not had sex in months, but I was also checking out Andre. And mentally putting him in the category of "would not kick out of bed".
What straight woman has not had a fantasy about a big strong black man? I sure had, for years. My masturbation material revolved around Idris Elba. I'm sure I was not the only one who rubbed out several orgasms while watching The Wire.
The rest of the car ride was full of friendly and fun chats between the three of us. Mostly small talk but with a lot of flirtation. Laquan kept injecting small compliments about me into the conversation, and Andre started doing it too.
How lovely my smile was, how great that sweater looked on me, how smart I was, and so on. I could tell that he was turning on the charm. He had made his interest very clear. And as he had pointed out then, I wouldn't be his TA forever. And now I wasn't. I was about to graduate, just like he was.
Holy fuck! A hot young professional athlete was flirting with me!
It was an ego boost for sure. I'm not bad looking. I get my share of come-ons. So this was quite a validation that again made me squirm. My pussy was already singing, me and Laquan sitting in a tree, eff yu see kay aay enn jee.
I was almost impatient for him to finally ask me out. Enough with the sweet talk. I'm ready and willing and I'm free tonight. It's my last week in this town.
We eventually reached town and I directed Laquan towards my apartment. As we came closer to my house, I took stock of the situation. Because a big question was what happens next. Do I just let these nice guys drop me home and say goodbye? Or do I try something more if I don't get actually hit on?
It was an unusual time in my life. For the first time since hitting puberty, I was not in a serious relationship. In fact, at the start of the semester, I had gotten out of a very serious relationship that had not ended well. I was ready to play around a bit, no strings attached. I was in America after all, in the era of Tinder.
I now think back and wonder, how much of the events that day were just natural events and how many I orchestrated myself.
"Right here?" Laquan asked, pulling into an empty street spot.
"Yes." I said. "Please come up for some Indian chai, guys. My thanks to you."
In that moment, I told myself I was being a grateful host. We Indians invite people in for chai. This was my student and his uncle. Which had just given me a ride on a cold day. Why wouldn't I have them over for chai?
"Oh that's not really necessary. It was no trouble." Laquan nicely said.
Andre gave me a half smile saying,
"I wouldn't mind some authentic chai."
That tone made me automatically blush. Both guys were in full flirt mode and so was I. There was definitely simmering tension in the air.
I'm no stranger to male attention, especially in the United States, where there is no social taboo on asking someone out. I know I have the kind of body and face that draws second and third looks.
The thing is, I had been in a serious relationship the entire time. So had turned down all the guys and even a few girls that hit on me.
After the breakup, I had been out on a couple of dates. An Indian guy and a white guy. But I didn't really "feel it" enough with either to go beyond kissing.
Right now though, holy fuck, I was feeling super attracted towards both guys. Both perfect specimen of masculinity. Good looking, muscular, charming, intelligent, gainfully employed, and with a certain popular stereotype that I would not mind testing out.
The ex was not exactly well hung.
But I had to pick one, right? Did I have to? Holy fuck, what am I even thinking?
I chastised myself as I walked up the stairs of my apartment. Laquan and Andre were behind me. I wondered how they liked the view. I was wearing a skirt that highlighted my curvy round butt nicely. I thought of another stereotype. Is that what was attracting them to me? All that junk inside my trunk?
Stop it, I scolded myself. Don't be such a racist. Stop with the stereotypes.
"Nice building." Andre said as I fumbled with my keys, nervous about the situation.
"Thanks." I stupidly said as if I had built it.
I led the men in.
"That's a lot of boxes!" Laquan said.
"Hehe, yeah, we are all vacating the apartment in a couple of days. My two roommates are out of town."
