Peach - Episode 1

Transcript

Peach, Episode 1 by Dana Fox They had collided together. That was how Freya met Dr. Adam for the very first time.

In the corridor of the liberal arts building on campus. Like magnets. Like heat-seeking missiles.

They both turned the corner into one of those perfectly placed moments and crashed into one another. I'm so sorry. Let me get these, said Freya.

Freya rounded up the books and papers from the ground and craned her neck back to look at who she had crashed into accidentally. She saw a tall frame towering over her. He held out a hand.

She placed her palm in his warm one and he lifted her up. No, the fault is mine, really, Dr. Adam said.

I'm new here. I'm afraid I don't know the layout all that well yet. He took his things back from her and arranged them back in a neat pile.

Freya took in his olive skin and shaggy black hair which fell to his ears. A few white pieces dusted the sides. He had broad shoulders and a wide chest that tapered down to solid legs.

His musculature and height made him seem massive. Yet, despite his imposing frame, she saw gentleness in his eyes. You're a professor? She asked.

I am. Department of English, he answered. Oh, well, welcome then.

I'm an English major, so I guess I'll be seeing you around these parts. So it would seem. I'm Dr.

Adam. Freya. He ran his gaze over her, bit by bit.

He looked at her so thoroughly, she knew he'd felt it too. This spark. The pull.

Like magnets. She looked for a ring on his finger and saw none. Unsure of what else to say but not wanting to leave, she fidgeted on her feet.

You're very tall, she said, flustered. Dr. Adam grinned down at her.

The skin around his warm hazel eyes crinkled at the outer edges. Midwestern bread. Born on a farm in Oklahoma.

Is this, Freya gestured up and down his frame with her finger, how they grow them over there? It's all the corn, didn't you know? Freya realized he was flirting with her.

It made her lower belly warm and her heart speed up. And all that heartland pride as well? She asked, teasing him.

Actually, we just sprout from the earth fully grown and ready to work. Freya laughed. A regular Paul Bunyan.

But you, Dr. Adam took in her long blonde hair, her tan skin, you're from here, from California, aren't you? Down south.

San Diego. But I love San Francisco. How are you adjusting? Well, it's colder than I thought it would be.

Don't know why I didn't figure that in. Fog city and all. But I figured it was time to swap tornadoes for earthquakes for a bit.

He was charming, Freya realized. Clever, too. She ran her fingers through her hair, his eyes catching the motion.

She drew her pointer finger down to her lips and tapped it as an idea came to her. Can I have one of your papers? To write on? She asked.

Dr. Adam looked down at his stack of papers and then gave her the top one. She pulled a pen and textbook from her backpack and then readjusted the backpack on her shoulder.

She set the paper on top of the book and wrote down her idea. A minute later she was done and handed the paper back to Dr. Adam.

Freya cleared her throat. Here's my favorite pizza place, pho restaurant, the farmers market hours and location, and the best pub in the city. Dr.

Adam looked down at the paper, smiling. Thank you. I will definitely check these out.

I've heard tales of these California farmers markets. I'll have to see if they rival our farms back home. And, he paused, you're old enough to drink? My sister's expired ID says I am.

So, how old are you really? 20. Freya tilted her chin up and to the side, showing him her neck.

She kept her eyes on his, smiling like a coquette. Like she knew what he was really asking. She wanted him to know she wasn't afraid of the age difference.

She was turned on by it, actually. A man with his own apartment, job, and a matured self-awareness? She would take that any day over the overgrown male children on campus.

There's more at the bottom, she said, boldly. Oh, so there is. He read her words aloud.

For more tips, call this number, Dr. Adam paused, not finishing. He seemed to be processing her words.

She saw him take a deep breath. Watching his reaction, Freya felt her core flood with warmth. Her nipples beaded tightly.

I shouldn't keep you any longer. I have an office hours appointment with Dr. Kim, so I better go, she said.

Dr. Adam looked up, his attention returned to her. Help with a paper? Actually, yes.

With this Elliott paper for my modernist poetry class. We have to interpret the love song of J. Alfred Prufrock.

Ah, T.S. Elliott. One of the greats.

His gaze turned inward for a moment, as if he was considering something. When he focused on her again, his gaze fell to her lips and lowered down to her pebbled nipples. A moment passed, just with Dr.

Adam regarding her. So do you? Do I what? she asked, not following.

Do you dare to eat a peach? he asked, his voice low and sexy. It was perhaps the most well-known line from Elliott's poem, but Freya knew what he was asking.

In the poem, the peach is a symbol for the messiness and sweetness of life. Prufrock wanders the night, stuck between his desire for a vibrant, meaningful life and his inability to pursue it. Could she do what Prufrock could not? Could she say yes to such sensory pleasure? Freya's tongue darted out to lick her lips.

I do. Then, I'll give you a call tonight? he asked.

Sure, she responded, but then thought of one better. Or we could just make plans to meet up now? Dr.

Adam smiled, revealing rows of perfect white teeth. Since tomorrow's Saturday, why don't you meet me at my place around 11am? he asked.

I'll pick up something at the farmer's market and make us brunch. God, Freya loved older men. That sounds great.

Text me your address and I'll see you soon. Wait! You never told me your first name.

Do you just want me to call you Professor Radon? Dr. Adam laughed.

In some situations, maybe. But in all others, however, I would love for you to call me Dimitri. Freya gave him a shy smile in response and turned to walk down the hallway.

Mr. All-American Professor was going to cook for her tomorrow morning. No drowning in the sea, like Prufrock.

This was the love song of Freya and Dimitri.