I Can’t Even Concentrate Anymore （12）

"Jacob."

Audrey raised her voice snapping him back to reality after noticing he'd zoned out. She slid herself behind him, reaching a hand around his naked chest and pulling him close to her as they lay together in her bed after their most recent tutoring session.

"Tutoring," which was apparently the new code word for "sex."

She trailed her fingertips along his pecs and down his abs, taking note of the definition that he'd gained over the past two weeks since they'd first hooked up. He'd been hitting dryland extra hard to try to shake off some of the stress, and he'd acquired a lot of muscle because of it. "Where'd you go, stud?"

"Sorry," he said quietly, grabbing onto her hand. "I, uh, got lost in my thoughts for a minute. It's been easy to do lately."

And damn if that wasn't the truth.

They'd been hooking up almost every single time they saw each other, but there'd been no discussion of "What are we?" This would have been all fine and good if he hadn't had the exact same scenario going on with Ryker McCreery. Both Audrey and Ryker knew about each other, but neither of them said a word.

And if neither of them said a word, then JT sure as shit wasn't going to, either.

All he knew for certain was that he had officially fallen for both of them, without the first clue what to do about it.

"Well, we should probably get some actual tutoring done. I'm starting to feel like a hooker," she teased, moving away from his back and sitting up. She reached for her bra and underwear, put them on, and got out of her bed as he rolled over onto his back. He stole a glimpse of her, then quickly pulled the blanket up over his head. "Sorry," he said, muffled from under it.

"No, it's…fine," she hesitated, moving a hand to the blanket and pulling it down. His eyes immediately defaulted to her curvy body, lingering on her thick hips and thighs, then moved up to meet hers. "I'm…so my therapist said one of the things I need to try is letting myself be more comfortable around those I trust. And, since I obviously trust you," she said, circling her hands up and down her sides to display herself to him, "here goes. I mean, I've been eating a little more, and I'm back up to a size 16 from a size 14, but I've started working out a little, so it's almost like I…"

"Aud?" he interrupted her nervous rambling.

"Yeah?"

He put a finger up to his lips, shushing her, before crawling across the bed on his hands and knees to where she was standing. When he reached her, he rose to his knees, slid both hands behind her head, and planted a gentle kiss against her lips. "Your body is perfect because it's yours . I could give a shit if you're a size 6 or a size 30. I don't even know what the fuck any of that means anyway. All I do know is that you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

She smiled against his lips, tears forming in her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, giving him a quick kiss before pulling away to retrieve her clothing.

"I mean, you don't have to get dressed," he teased, getting off the bed and pulling on his joggers and sweatshirt. "I might be more motivated if you stay half-naked, honestly."

"Yeah, OK. You have enough problems staying focused as it is. Now, let's go. Come on, into the kitchen so we can get this done. What time is your practice tonight?"

"Umm, lemme see." He grabbed his phone and checked the alarm labeled "Thursday practice." Noticing there was a message and a selfie from Ryker, he opened the text chain, stared at his pic, and read his message.

R: Miss you.

JT smiled, his heart skipping a beat as he shoved his phone back into his pocket, followed Audrey into the kitchen, and had a seat at the counter. Noticing she was staring at him, he asked, "What?"

"Seriously? JT, what time is your practice tonight?"

"Oh, shit. Right. Um, it's at 5."

"Good, we've got some time. Because there's something I wanna…I wanna try something with you, OK?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh yeah? What, uh, did you have in mind?"

"Calm down, stud. Listen," she began, sitting down next to him and opening her laptop. "I'm glad the audiobook of Gatsby was helpful, but you bombed the literary analysis writing piece for chapters 6-10. JT, you only wrote four sentences."

"Yeah, well, we only had, like, 25 minutes and I…I couldn't get my thoughts together. I mean, I knew what I wanted to say, but it wouldn't…I couldn't get it onto the screen."

"OK, but you also got a D on your last rhet paper, which we worked on forever."

He sighed. "I tried. I couldn't get it to make sense." He pointed to his head. "It made sense in here, but then?" He tapped his head a few times. "I can't get it out."

"Your averages are slipping in both of your classes. You were doing well and you've done well when I was able to help you complete the work. But now that there's more of the actual writing being done in class? You're…JT, you're really slipping."

"I know. I've been…preoccupied."

"I'm worried about you. You have to pass these classes. And with your averages right now, it's not looking too promising. So, listen. You obviously have ADHD. I figured that out the day I met you. But, I've been thinking about your performance the past few weeks, doing some research, and I think…JT, I think you also might be dyslexic. You struggle to read aloud, you struggle with spelling, you mix up words, you st ruggle to organize your thoughts into writing…"

He pushed his stool back and stood up abruptly. "So, I'm stupid. Like I fucking told you from the get-go."

"JT, no. That's not what I said." She stood up next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You are not stupid. Dyslexia is one of the most common language-based learning disabilities, and a lot of times it goes right along with ADHD. It didn't even cross my mind initially because of your echoic memory…"

"My what? " he interrupted.

"You have an exceptional echoic memory. You hear something and you retain it. Sounds are how your brain makes sense of the world. A lot of times, dyslexia is accompanied by auditory processing issues, but you're a bit of an enigma in the sense that you process almost everything auditorily long term. Listen, I have a couple quick screeners I wanna give you…"

"Nope. Fuck that," he said, pulling away from her. "I don't need any more proof of how dumb I am, OK?"

"JT, stop it. Learning looks a little different for you, but you're not dumb…"

Don't do it.

Just shut up.

Don't do it.

"Maybe if you spent more time actually tutoring me and less time on my cock, I wouldn't have this problem."

Fuuuck.

"Hey, you know I didn't mean…" he began, but she was already pointing at the door.

"Get out."

"Audrey…"

"No. You can be angry, JT, but you don't get to say hurtful things like that to me. Out, now."

He moved toward her, but she backed away, then moved over to the door and opened it. "Please, I didn't mean…"

"Leave."

JT rolled his eyes, gathering his belongings and shoving them into his backpack before heading to the door. He turned to face her while inside the doorframe. "Audrey, I'm sorry."

"I'll email you the screeners. Finish them ASAP, screenshot the results, and send them to me so we can figure out the next steps. I'm gonna set up some time to talk with your professors, see what we can do. Oh, and don't worry, College Boy. I won't be spending any more time on your cock from here on out, OK?"

She slammed the door behind him, leaving him standing out in the hallway, head hung in shame.

Breathe.

4-7…

4…

"You fucking asshole!" he yelled, raking his hands through his hair and pulling, trying his best to keep his composure, but it was too late. Before he even knew what was happening, he'd smashed his fist through the hallway wall with a loud thud.

He backed his hand out of the drywall, bits of it falling onto the floor beneath him, and shook it a few times, almost certain he'd bruised a knuckle or two seeing as this wasn't his first rodeo.

OK, you did that.

Now fucking breathe, DiMara.

4-7-8

4-7- 8

When he felt himself calm down a bit, he took the stairs and made his way down to the building's lobby, following the signs until he found the office.

"Can I help you?" the woman behind the desk asked him as he entered.

"Yeah, um. So, I just…on the fourth floor, there's…do you have a pen and paper?" he asked nervously, fidgeting with his hands. She reached for a notepad and a pen, sliding it across the counter to him. "So, I punched a hole through the wall. It was…I'm sorry," he said, jotting down his name, address, and number, "and I'm going to leave you my information so you can bill me for whatever it costs to fix." He slid it back to her.

"OK?" she replied, confused.

"Thanks. Seriously, whatever it costs, I'll take care of it. This is all legit info, I swear. You can confirm with Audrey Winston in 422. She had absolutely nothing to do with this, but she'll confirm that I'm legit. I'm…sorry." And with that, he turned and hurried out the front of the building. Once outside, he took his phone out and texted Dr. Namour.

J: Can you see me today? I know I don't have an appointment, but I kinda need help.

JT kept his phone in his hand as he began walking in the direction of his dorm, and after about five minutes or so, his phone buzzed.

D: Are you or is someone else in immediate danger right now, JT?

J: Nah, nothing like that.

D: Good. Then can you come by in about a half hour?

J: Absolutely. Thank you.

???

JT dropped his bag onto the floor next to the couch in Dr. Namour's office as he had a seat, then lay back, put his feet up, and reached his arms above his head. "Thanks for seeing me. It's…I'm kinda falling apart, Doc."

Dr. Namour settled into his chair, his clipboard and a pen in his lap. "Are you high right now, JT?"

JT nodded. "I took a few hits off my pen on the walk over here."

"I see," Dr. Namour said, scribbling something onto the paper. "Do you remember what we talked about the last time we met, about trying to cut back on using marijuana as a coping mechanism?"

"I do."

"And how's that been working out for you?"

"Clearly not that great, considering I'm fucking baked right now, Doc!" he snapped. JT closed his eyes, sighed, then opened them again. "I'm sorry. I've made an effort to cut back. I really have. Today was just…not good."

"Tell me about it."

JT began with his struggles regarding his feelings for both Audrey and Ryker. The last time they'd spoken, he told Dr. Namour about the fact that he'd begun a sexual relationship with both of them, but the feelings that followed had all but consumed him since. He also explained the events from Audrey's apartment today, ending with the hole in the hallway wall.

"Doc, I don't know what to do. I can't even concentrate anymore. I feel like I'm drowning in these feelings for both of them, you know? Like, it's…did you know that about 80 percent of early human societies were polygamous, according to a lot of evolutionists? I know it's not unheard of, but like, I feel…I don't know what I feel."

Dr. Namour stayed quiet as JT stopped talking, making sure he didn't have anything else to add before he chimed in. "So, first things first. I'm pleased to see that you're utilizing the 4-7-8 breathing. I'd also like to commend you, JT. You just snapped at me, but you quickly apologized. Also, at Audrey's apartment building, you let your anger get control of you, but you made it a point to address it immediately and offer to rectify the situation. I don't know if the JT I met almost two months ago would have done the same, and I believe it's important to point out that I recognize the growth you're making."

"Yeah, well," he said, shifting so that he could sit up, "growth would be not snapping on you or punching the wall in the first place."

"You're wrong," Dr. Namour told him bluntly. "You're going to mess up, make mistakes. You're a human being, JT, a human being who's carrying around some pretty serious emotional baggage. Growth is admitting when you've made a mistake and taking steps to fix it rather than running from it. And that's what you did. You're growing, JT. Embrace it."

Tears welled up in his eyes as he fought like hell to contain them, then nodded slowly. "OK."

"As for these feelings you have for Audrey and Ryker: have you spoken to either of them about it?"

JT shook his head. "It's this giant, like, elephant in the room. He knows about her, she knows about him, but neither of them say anything about the other one. It's not like I'm doing either of them dirty. But no, neither of them has said a word."

"That's not what I asked you, JT. I asked if you had spoken to either of them about it. Have you communicated your desire to engage in a meaningful relationship with both of them simultaneously?"

"I…have not."

"And why is that?"

"Because I'm scared."

"What is it that you're scared of?"

It was at that moment that JT lost his battle against those tears he'd been fighting. "Losing them."

"Why would you lose them? They both know about each other, they've met and you said they get along. I know you're young, but don't you think it's a possibility that they might be open to at least listening to how you're feeling?"

"What if one of them gets scared? Or what if they decide they don't wanna share? Then what?"

"Let me ask you something, JT. Is what you're doing now with both of them working for you?"

He shook his head slowly. "No."

"Correct. You have to address this with them or it's going to continue to eat you alive. Listen," Dr. Namour said, getting up from his chair and heading over to his desk. "I have another client coming in soon, but here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to email you some resources on polyamory, the different types, along with how to talk to your potential partners about it.

"There's a lot that goes into it, JT. You have to be able to communicate your needs, set healthy boundaries and expectations, limits for not only the sexual piece of it but the emotional piece as well to ensure that no one, including you, gets hurt. I'd like you to promise me that before our next meeting, you will check out the resources and that you will talk to both Audrey and Ryker about your feelings. Can you agree to do that?"

Just as Dr. Namour finished answering that question, the "Thursday practice" alarm began going off in JT's phone, which meant he had to be at Pegula in 15 minutes."

"Are the alarms helping you keep your schedule straight?" Dr. Namour asked, as JT got up and picked up his bag.

"Yeah, definitely. And yeah, I'll, uh, talk to them about this."

"Good. We will plan for two weeks, but as always, if you need me sooner, I'm here."

"Got it. Thanks, Doc."

With that, JT slung his backpack over his shoulder. He looked down at his hand, which had swollen to almost double the size of his other one, and began the walk to Pegula, knowing damn well he'd be going to get an x-ray instead of practicing with the team.