Nerdology 101: Love & Lots

Hey loves! Welcome back to Nerdology 101. This week I’m sharing a short story I wrote earlier this year. A few housekeeping notes before the story though:

1. Please remember that this short story is meant to be a test. I have never written contemporary romance before this and I’m using this to see how that audience responds to my writing in it.

2. This is still out to a lit mag, but the one it’s out to accepts works that are posted on a personal blog.

3. Feedback and reactions are welcome so long as they are kindly worded.

Now, let’s get into some Nerdology!

Love and Lots

A Short Contemporary Romance Story

By Maria Levato

Freshman Year

It all began in the Lakeside Parking Structure at Northwestern University. I was a commuter student since my family lived in Evanston. It was three hours earlier than I needed to be there, yet I was in a rush. My anxiety had been nagging at me all morning, telling me I wouldn't be able to find a spot, or that I'd get lost and be late on my first day of class, or any number of unlikely situations that led me to show up this early. None of this would have happened if it wasn't for my anxiety that morning.

            When I pulled into the parking lot, it was mostly empty. After all, most college students aren't likely to be getting up and rushing to campus this early. Rather, they're all probably still asleep. So, it was just me and one other car.

            I choose the space closest to the exit of the parking structure since it's open and set myself up to back in. As I do, the other car suddenly swoops in, aiming for the same space. Next thing I know, the sound of crashing metal is ringing in my ears as my body jerks to the right. Luckily, I'm unharmed, though I don't even have to look before I know that I can't say the same about the back-left side of my car.

            "Fuck," I groaned as I threw the car into park so I could get out and assess the damage. "What were they thinking?"

            I hopped out of the car and took a look at the exterior of the red BMW Daddy had just bought me. The smashed taillight, huge dent from their obnoxiously large, black SUV, and scraped paint pissed me off all the more. "Hey!" I turned and face their SUV. "What the hell?"

            The driver's side door opened and out stuck a leg, covered by the fitted ankle of grey joggers. As the foot at the end of those joggers met the pavement of the parking lot, I noticed the fresh pair of black YSL Men's sneakers at the end of them. My older brother had a pair just like them. A deep, gravelly voice sounded off from a face I still couldn't quite make out from behind the barely legal tint of the window. "Yeah, sorry about that. I wasn't paying attention."

Finally, he stepped fully into my view. I was captured by the sight of him immediately. He must have been the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. He was about the same height as my father and brother, maybe a little taller. 6'5, perhaps? And the warm, golden glow of his flawless skin was second only to the bulging veins protruding from the muscles of his forearm. His eyes were dark, like the rich, brown mahogany of the dining room table at home. My heart nearly stopped looking at him. I don't know how long I was frozen for, but it must have been long enough that he noticed if his next words were any indication. "Are you alright? You look dazed. You didn't hit your head, did you? I can take you to the hospital if you think you might have a concussion."

I snapped out of it. "What? No. I'm fine. You know, I hope you have insurance because my Daddy will not be happy when he sees this."

"Whoa, calm down. It's okay." He held up his insurance card. "I'll give you my information."

"Good," I replied, trying to sound as condescending as possible. "Why would you do that anyway? You had to have seen me pulling into that spot. The whole lot is open too. It wouldn't have hurt you to park one space further, would it?"

"No, it wouldn't have," He answered. "You're right, and I'm sorry. It's just my first day here. I guess my nerves have me acting kind of stupid this morning."

I nodded, understanding how that felt. "It's fine. I get it. I'm a freshman too. I'm here three hours before my first class, so trust me when I say I understand the anxiety. Just be more careful, okay? You could have hurt someone."

He smirked. "Will do, Mom."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Now," I open the notes app in my cell phone, "What's the information I should be jotting down?"

"Um, yeah. The name is Osiris Carhart."

The name Carhart rung a bell to me. I knew a Carhart. "Really? Does your father happen to be James Carhart?"

Osiris's head tilted to the side. "Yeah, it is. What? Did you see him in Forbes or something?"

I shook my head. "No, nothing like that. It's just… My father is Henry Nettle. I'm Kyra Nettle. I think our dads are in the middle of making a pretty big business deal."

"Yeah, I think you might be right. My dad was just telling me that we were invited over to your house this weekend for dinner so he and your dad could pan out some of the details. He wanted me to come because I'm his only child and will one day be running the company. Besides, he said that if the deal goes through, our families will likely be spending a lot of time together."

I nod. "That sounds about right. Well then, I'll keep that in mind when I tell Daddy about all this. He gets protective and I don't want to make it seem like you're reckless or irresponsible."

He smiles, those annoyingly perfect teeth of his making my heart flutter. "Thanks for that."

After that, he finishes giving me the information I need for the insurance claim and we go our separate ways. I head toward University Hall, home of the English department, on foot from there. This year, I'm a freshman, so I can't apply to my major yet. Next year, though, I hope to declare as a creative writing major on the fiction track, so in preparation for that, I have some courses in the building.

Since I have so much time before classes start, I take my time to poke around and get to know the place better as I walk over. This is the first time I'd ever been on campus alone. I usually came with Daddy. Northwestern was his alma mater, and he visited it often. As many times as he brought me with him when I was young, you would have thought I knew that campus like the back of my hand. I didn't, though. All the other times I came before that first day, I never got to explore. We were always here for events that kept me on specific parts of campus. It was always a field, a court, or some fancy alumni event. It was never just me.

Now, as I roam the campus alone, early in the morning when it's still quiet and peaceful with few other students roaming about, I fall in love with it. It truly is a beautiful place. The buildings remind me a lot of the ones I saw while vacationing in Edinburgh—so grand and intricate in their design. Something about the beauty of this place makes the anxiety I had felt just minutes earlier fade as awe blossoms in its place.

I continue to wander about until the time for my first class approaches. This semester, I'm taking a first-year seminar, Literatures in Addiction, a German course to meet the language requirement, Intro to Creative Writing, and Topics in Multi-Ethnic Literature. Intro to Creative Writing is what I'm on my way to now. Thanks to Northwestern's open curriculum, I had the freedom to take some 200-level English courses even in my first semester. It was exciting to be able to dive right into the thing I loved, but little did I know I'd be discovering many more loves during my time as a college student.

            One of those other loves I met entering the classroom for that creative writing course. She, like me, was a freshman taking the course. We were the first two in the classroom. Things started off awkwardly, as would be expected for two freshman sitting in an empty classroom on their first day waiting for a class to start. She spoke first—a fact I'm grateful for since I'm an Emily Dickinson-level recluse. "Hi, I'm Samantha Jane," Her southern accent was so bright and warm. "And you are?"

            "Kyra," I smile back at her. "Nice to meet you. Are you aiming for the creative writing program too, or is there another reason you're taking this class?"

            "I'm hoping to get into the program on the fiction track, how about you?"

            "Same," I told her. "I want to be a romance writer."

            "Ah, that's lovely. I'm aiming for fantasy."

            I smiled. "Fantasy is my second favorite genre."

            "And romance is my second favorite. What a coincidence? I can tell we're going to be besties already."

            She was right, of course. After class, we had some time to kill before either of us had another course, so we spent that time getting to know each other and we definitely hit it off. I told her all about the gorgeous man that had hit me earlier that morning. Her response? "You're a romance writer, don't you know that's a perfect meet-cute?"

            As a writer, I agreed with her, but this was real life, not one of my stories. I shrugged her off, changing the subject as we continued to chat. It wasn't long before I had to leave, though. There was a seminar calling my name, then a German class, and a multi-ethnic literature one soon after. The first day of college flew by faster than I'd ever imagined, as did the rest of the week.

            When the weekend rolled around, I found myself in the living room of the penthouse my parents and I lived in telling Daddy all about my first week. It was the first time we'd had the chance to talk since he'd been away on business until this morning.

            As I finally stop raving about how much I love college so far, he gives me that soft, loving look that he always gets when he's proud. "I'm proud you had a good week, sweetheart. It sounds like you're doing great."

            "Thank you, Daddy." I pause. "There is one more thing I should tell you about, though."

            "What is it, sweetie?"

            "I met Osiris Carhart. He's going to Northwestern too, presumably as a business major since he plans to succeed his father. Funny story, he accidentally hit me when in the parking lot on my way in the first day. It's no big deal, just a dent and a broken taillight. We should be able to have it fixed easily enough."

            "He hit you?" Daddy's tone told me that my attempt to deliver that news lightly might not have worked so well as I'd hoped.

            "It's really not a big deal, Daddy. Please don't do anything crazy."

            "A car accident is a very big deal, sweetheart. What if you had been hurt?"

            "I wasn't hurt, Daddy. I'm okay. Besides, Osiris was super nice about the whole thing. He didn't give me any trouble."

            Daddy sighed, wrestling his protective side down now that I'm insisting. It was rare that I got stubborn with Daddy, but he knew that when I did he was in a losing battle. He always told me I was like my Momma in that way, and Momma always told him that he better not make it out to be a bad thing since she knew damn well it was one of the reasons he fell in love with her. He never did because Daddy did love her and every word that came out of her stubborn mouth. They had a romance just as beautiful as any of the ones that inspired me.

            The following night, Osiris and his father, Mr. Carhart, came over for dinner as planned. Momma made a nice dinner, and we all sat down together. The conversation was pretty generic for most of the meal. You know? The kind of small talk that happens when no one is sure how much of their true self is appropriate to expose because the gathering is in some grey area no one at the table can quite identify. Intimate setting, professional purpose, two people who can't drink yet, two business titans, and two wives of very different backgrounds.

Momma was from New Orleans; she was a civil rights activist who met Daddy during a march to protect majority Black public schools from getting their funding cut in Louisiana. He was one of the few white guys who showed up. She always joked that it was hard not to notice him because of how much he stuck out. Mrs. Nettle is less outspoken than Momma. I don't know much about her background, but in all times she's appeared in the media with her husband, I had rarely seen her express any sort of strong opinion. I figure she has a more diplomatic and formal approach to things than Momma's more outspoken ways.

After dinner, Daddy suggests that I show Osiris around the house while the adults discussed business. I agreed and wandered off with Osiris trailing behind me. We ended up in my room, which was on the opposite side of the house from the dining room. where I took a seat on the red, satin sheets of my bed and he sat on the white desk chair by my computer. "Did you have a good first week?"

He nodded. "I did. I'm enjoying the business classes I'm taking."

"Oh, so it's not just something you're doing because it's what your dad does?"

He shook his head. "Not at all. My dad has always been good about not pushing his decisions onto me. I chose to follow in his footsteps because I always looked up to him. It's rare to see a genuinely ethical corporation in this world, especially in this country, but our parents have done just that. Fair trade materials, living wages for employees, diverse boards, and true philanthropy. If you ask me, it's amazing that they've done it and have proven that corporations don't have to be evil. Granted, neither of us are no where near as big as some of the more corrupt corporations but look at us. We have nice houses and cars, our parents were able to pay our tuition, and we have no loans to worry about when we graduate. It's not a bad life."

I nodded. "I like that. It's cool that you want to do it not just for the money or the legacy, but for yourself and because you care about doing it the right way."

"Thanks, I appreciate that. What's your major? You never said."

"Oh, me? I'm undeclared right now. The program I'm aiming for is one you can't apply to until after you're a sophomore."

"Let me guess, Creative Writing?"

"How did you know?"

He looked around at the walls of my room, each lined with books, and then to the piles of crumbled up papers spilling out of the small trash can I keep in the corner. "Let's just say you don't hide it well."

A giggle came out before I could stop it. "I'm passionate, don't judge."

His eyes twinkled. The look in them was all I needed to know that he was falling for me. He was falling hard and fast and I wasn't sure I wanted him to stop. "You don't have to worry about me judging you. I think it's amazing. I sure couldn't do it. Writers are vital in our society. They challenge us to look inward and face some of the hardest facts about life. I would never think poorly of someone brave enough to pursue such an influential path."

Correction: I definitely did not want him to stop. Osiris and I ended up talking well into the night. It wasn't until Daddy finished up his discussion with Mr. Carhart and realized we had been in my room alone all that time that we stopped, mostly on account of Daddy looking like he was about to lose his mind in front of a business partner he just signed an agreement with when he came back there. Osiris and his family went home, and I spent the rest of the night texting Samantha all about our conversation.

Me: "Girlll! I think you were right. Maybe me and Osiris are something."

Samantha: "I knew it! Tell me everything!"

Me: "We just spent hours talking in my room. He's amazing!"
            Samantha: "Talking, or talking?"

Me: "Talking, girl. Slow down. We're nowhere near that part yet."

Samantha: "Fineee. Keep me updated though."

Samantha: "I'm totally invested in this budding romance now."

Me: "Gotcha. See you Monday?"

Samantha: "Yup."

That Monday, I told Samantha all about my talk with Osiris. She was gushing by the end of it. "So, what you're saying is that you two totally get each other without even having to talk? If he were a fae, you two would totally be fated mates. I'm calling it."

"Calling what exactly?" Her little rant had me raising my eyebrow.

She scoffed as if it was obvious. "The love match, duhh. I'm calling the future of your relationship with Osiris. It'll happen, trust me."

It was such a strange conversation to be having with someone I'd only known a week, but Samantha's warmth shined brightly through that extroverted personality she had. As odd as it was, she did feel like my best friend already. As for what she was saying about Osiris and I, I wasn't nearly as sure as she was. Maybe one day he and I could be more. In that moment, though, it was still early in my Freshman year. I wanted to focus on my studies. While I did that, I decided that I'd get to know Osiris better and if it was right, it would happen when the time was right. "Yeah, I don't know about that Samantha. It'd be cool if that was the case, but the situation is complicated, especially since our fathers are in business together."

"And you're supposed to be the romance writer between the two of us," She nudged as she said it. "How are you going to write it if you're too scared to live it?"

"It is called creative writing. I suppose I'll have to use my imagination." I pushed back. I knew well that life experiences could be a vital part of inspiring my craft, but I really didn't want to admit that she had a point. Luckily for me, class was starting soon and I had the chance to change the subject before she could rebut my comment. "Come on, the professor is going to be ticked if we're late. I'm aiming for star pupil, not delinquent with poor time management skills."

Samantha relented, not wanting to be late to class either, and ran along with me as I darted into the building. After that, I didn't have much time to slow down again until I was leaving campus that evening. In between classes, I worked a lot on coursework. No one could ever accuse me of procrastination. As I was heading toward my car that afternoon, I bumped into Osiris, this time on the sidewalk. "Hey, watch where you're going there. What was it you told me? Someone could have been hurt."

I looked up at him, cursing his stupid, beautiful face for being in my path just when I wanted to confine myself to thinking of him as a friend. Repeating his own words back to him as he just did to me, I teased. "Will do, Mom."

His eyes lit up with amusement. "Say, I think I sprained my ankle when you bumped into me. Here's the deal, I won't press charges if you buy me an ice cream."

A slow smile rose to my cheeks, I could feel myself turning red and I hated it. I loathed it. I loved it. "I find that hard to believe. You're standing on it just fine."

He lifted his ankle slowly, keeping eye contact with me the whole time, and tucked the joint in his hand. "Ow."

            In that moment, I was caught between laughing and wanting to kiss him—Wait, no. Kick. I meant kick. I wanted to kick him. The stupid, crooked smile on his face was just too tempting though. I bit my lip, trying to choke down my longing to say yes, but in the end, the offer was too good to pass up. "Come on, we'll go to Kilwins."

"Kilwins is my favorite," he answered, ankle back on the ground. I suppose it magically healed.

            "Mine too. Best ice cream in Evanston. I'll meet you there?"

            He shook his head. "Riding with you, actually. My car is in the shop for maintenance. I was going to have to rideshare home."

            "So now I'm getting you ice cream and giving you a ride. You ask for too much."

            "You give too little." He replied as we got to my car, it was followed by the beep of it unlocking just before we climbed in.

            As we settled into the black leather seats of the BMW, I asked him, "What more do you want?"

            "From you? Your everything, Kyra. I won't stop until I have it all."

            My heart wanted to beat right out of my chest. I assumed he was just teasing, but even so it wasn't an easy thing to ignore. Not sure how to respond, I answered as if it was just part of our normal banter as I pulled out of the lot and headed toward Kilwins. "Leech."

            Osiris was quiet for the rest of the ride there. Looking back at it now, I worry I might have hurt him that day. Back then, though, I just assumed it was awkward for him to be riding with me. By the time we ordered our ice cream at Kilwins, though, he was back to his normal self. We fell back into normal conversation and spent the time learning more about each other. I remember every detail. Osiris's favorite color: yellow—which I hate. Osiris's favorite music group: Jagged Edge—a total sap at heart. Osiris's most embarrassing moment: mispronouncing the word colloquial as collick-quill during his first live interview with the press after his father announced that he would be the sole-inheritor of the Carhart legacy—hilarious.

            After that day, Osiris and I hung out pretty often. Between appearances for our families at galas and business events, being on the same campus, and being dragged into the same friend group when Samantha started dating a guy from his econ class that he had befriended. Soon enough, it felt liked we were together more often than we weren't. It was hard not to fall for him in the months that followed. Eventually, it stopped being about not wanting to rush or cause trouble for my dad. By the end of our second semester, it was just about being too scared to tell him how I felt.

            I kept telling myself I'd tell him after I finished my writing sample for the creative writing major I would be applying to sooner rather than later. In truth, I'd have come up with excuse not to tell him even if nothing important was going on. The writing sample was just the most convenient one. I was so afraid that he'd turn me down. My inner turmoil got so rough that I started avoiding him.

            Weeks went by without me answering any of his texts or speaking to him in any capacity. He kept trying to reach out, but I avoided him at every turn. I felt bad, but my brain just wouldn't let my heart take the lead on that one. Osiris came to figure out that there was more to my absence from his life after a while. After all, we had become such a regular occurrence that it must have felt like more than school stress to him.

            One day, he showed up at my house. I heard the signature ding of the speaker box that tells me someone is trying to be let up. When I approached the penthouse's elevator to see who it was, it was his voice I heard ringing through it. "Kyra, I know you're in there. I saw your father in the parking lot as he was about to pull out. He told me you were up here. Let me in. I need to see you. Please… I need to see you."

            The heartbreak in his voice was one step too far for even my anxiety about being rejected to stop me from answering him. I couldn't be the reason he sounded like that. My finger made its way to that button on nothing but the desire to make that pain in his voice go away. "You're good. Come up."

            I heard the gears in the elevator start to move as it rose. Not but a few seconds after, it dinged and the doors opened. I stared at Osiris as he stepped out, wanting to tell him everything, but saying nothing. "Well, are you going to explain yourself, Kyra? I know this can't all be about schoolwork."

            I sighed. "It's not."

            "Then what is it?" He pleaded with me to tell him.

            "It's you," I pause. "It's me," another beat passes. "It's us."

            "What about us? I thought we were…" His words trailed off like he lost the nerve to finish that sentence.

            "We were." I answered before he could regain said nerve. "That's the problem."

            He looked at me, confusion contorting his features. "I don't understand."

            I scoffed. "You wouldn't."

            "Then explain it to me, Kyra," he snapped, then his voice lowered until it was barely a whisper. "I want to understand."

            Rage boils inside me until I scream at him. "I think I'm in love with you. There, are you happy now? I said it."

            The suffering that had plagued his features just moments earlier contorted until that crooked, arrogant smile of his returned. "You love me."

            There again it happened. My idiotic heart, unable to read the room, thumped so hard I get light-headed. "Yeah, I do."

            He nods, slow, like he finally understands my disappearing act. "And you're afraid I don't feel the same?"

            I gulp, then nod.

            Osiris takes my hand, pulling me in and wrapping his arms around me. "I love you too, Kyra."

            And just like that, all the fear I felt dissipated until all that remained was the feeling of him.

Present Day

"It seems like just yesterday that we bumped into each other in that parking lot here at Northwestern. Now, I'm two years out of grad school, standing here at my beloved alma mater, telling you all the story from my life that inspired my debut novel, Love and Lots. I'm so glad to be hosting my launch party here at Northwestern. This place did so much for me. The things I learned and the people I met led me to a path I never dreamed I'd be able to attain. Thank you all for coming."

The applause that rings from the crowd is mighty, but as I step off the stage my eyes focus on only one face, even skipping over that of Samantha, who took time out of her own book tour to come support me. No, there was only one face that captured my attention. That of my fiancé, Osiris Carhart.

-End Story-

I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know how you feel about Love & Lots so I know if I should keep playing with this particular subgenre. That’s it for this week’s Nerdology 101 post. Check back next week for another. Until then, as always, have yourself a nerdy week!