Well I don't want your love. I just want you to want me.
I want you. Savagely. I don't know where to burry myself, from burning.
It's not enough. I want you to be crazy wanting me.
It happens like this. Joan is really hot on Christopher. Christopher is really hot on Joan. They don't know each other at all, they never speak between themselves, they just walk around very heated.
Christopher is starting something with Joan's new best friend, Tal. They don't know it but Christopher already has a girlfriend, and when he speaks to Tal of free love and what is her opinion on it, Joan smiles within herself.
He's like me, she says to herself. He doesn't want or need any long term relationship right now. He's just as horny as a teenager and has so much offers that he's going nuts.
I could have fixed his problem, she ponders to herself. He doesn't want to commit, it's fine by me. But Tal…
And so they spend their days, orbiting around one another without touching.
She knows he will never make a move. She also doesn't make a move, for simple feminine pride. But she doesn't give him credit for not making moves, she thinks him a coward. She doesn't know at all what he thinks of her but doesn't even mind – it's not love she's after, after all.
No, nothing can happen in this story. Tal is very hurt when he tells her of his current-ex-girlfriend, and stops things with the both of them for "he doesn't know whom to pick". Surprisingly it doesn't take any points in Joan's opinion of him. He's too much like her: wants something selfishly, feeling bad about it, denying himself of it. Religion and morality messes everything up, Joan whispers to herself while taking one of her hot showers where she twirls and twitches all around the place, out of longing, and she doesn't even know the object of her longing. Things were so much easier if it weren't for it. And for people's feelings.
Yeah, she sums up as she steps out of the shower, her body's boiling hot and her wet hair dripping around her in locks, feelings mess things up.
Covering herself with a white towel she opens the door to her dorm room and there he is, probably waiting for Tal.
"Oh I'm so sorry." He says and diverts his eyes, he's red from his neck up and turns his back, doesn't know if he should go out of the room.
"Don't be." she says.
He cannot concentrate now on what to say. Joan knows that in terms of looks, she's far better looking than Tal. In terms of personality and fun and seriousness on the other hand, Tal is so far better than her. She doesn't know what to make of the fact that she doesn't really care about this state of things.
He walks to the door just as she does. Their hands meet on the knob.
"Oh, you're going?"
"Why, what—"
"Do stay."
He looks her in the eye for the first time in weeks. She can tell now that just as her, his interest in her is limited to the physical side of things. And that unlike her, the physical side of things, although it presents a great deal of appeal and wanting for him, doesn't stand for the whole world in his eyes; he's well aware of all the other things, and the fact that her physical needs have priority for her strikes him now, and she doesn't know if it's in a good way. She doesn't care. It's not love she's after.
"You can go, if you want." She releases the doorknob and after a quarter of a second that hangs between them, when the proximity is too close to handle, she steps back and takes her clothes from the bed. "I'm gonna change."
Nothing happens in this story. He goes out.
