Of course I like a good story (Invite only)

I jolted up from my pillow faster than my brain could catch up. The sudden movement resulted in a headache and a tiny annoyed "mew!" from the corner of my bed. My cat, Twilight, stood up from her curled up spot on my bed and jumped off, probably headed towards the litter box.

I glanced at my alarm clock positioned exactly 11 inches away from my head on my nightstand. 3:12 AM.

"You've gotta be kidding me..." I muttered to no one. As soon as the last word left my mouth, my stomach exploded inside, and like a volcano "it" started to rise quickly to the surface. I threw back the blankets and dashed to my bathroom. I barely made it in time to lift the toilet seat and let it all spew out.

When you throw up, it's a like a kiss; you think it lasts forever, but in reality it lasts for a few seconds, probably not even a minute. I think everything got out, but my head still hung over the bowl for a tad longer. Finally, I slowly stood up and flushed the toilet. I rinsed out my mouth several hundred times before I even dared to brush my teeth an equal amount of times. I was wiping the water off of my face when Twilight came walking into the bathroom in that cute cat way. She turned her head and let out a cute little "mrow." Of course, everyone knows that it means "You stupid human, I leave you for a MINUTE to use the litterbox and you get all sick on me; what AM I going to do with you?"

I smile. "Mommy's fine, Twilight, let's go back to bed now."

Yes, I talk to my cat like a mother would talk to her 2-year-old. Only animal people, and especially cat people, know exactly why.

Twilight ran over to my leg and rubbed her cheek against it, signaling that she wanted to he held. I picked her up held her against my chest. She truely is my baby. Before I knew it, we were both back in bed and I dead asleep.

Next thing I knew, the clock was ringing at 7:35 AM. Time to start a new day.

New day my ass. I'm not a morning person by any means, but on Tuesdays and Thursdays I have a lab at 9.

My automatice coffeemaker clicked on, and I could smell the delicious coffee brew. Reluctantly, I dragged my lazy self out of bed and managed to find my day-old jeans under a couple of layers of blankets. I get cold easily, so I sleep with about three or four blankets.

Twilight mewed for me to feed her; well, it was more of a growl mew, because she gets PMSy when she doesn't get fed right away. Cats are hilarious. I live in this apartment alone, and Twilight keeps me company. It's not exactly a glamourous apartment, but it's cheap to live alone and it's just a mile to campus. See, during my first semester at college, I lived on campus with a roommate. Since my brother is 10 years older than me, I've been basicly an only child, so it had been hard to adjust and "share" with another person. Of all of the thousands of girls looking for a roommate, I had to choose the loose kind. The kind that put off all of the homework til the night before, the kind that whined at me to stop studying and turn off the damn light so she could sleep and recover from her hang-over, the kind that have a new boyfriend every week. Before the second semester started, I told my counselor that I was moving off campus. She tried to convince me to try rooming again, but I refused. It was then that she told me that her cat had a litter a few weeks ago and she still had one kitten left. She gave me one, saying that cats are the best pets for college students and so I wouldn't be lonely.

I pulled out my mug from the cupboard and poured the freshly brewed coffee. I spooned in a bit of creamer, stick two bagel halves in the toaster oven, and sat on my couch. Twilight jumped beside me, purring.

It's now my sophomore year. I learned a lot my freshmen year, but this year it seems like I've been reflecting on the past a lot more than being in the present. Never thought I'd be doing that.

My dad had been in the Air Force for over twenty years, and every three years we'd move to another location. Lots of people envy me for having that kind of travel in me at such a young age, and maybe in the future I'll agree and thank my parents for this, but right now I could care less. I'm sure nobody knows what it's like to settle into a house, settle into a school after a semester, maybe make a friend or two during the entire three years, and then pack up and start all over. I've changed schools so many times, and I haven't kept in touch with any of the friends I made during the years. It's been partially my fault; I hate holding onto things. So addresses get lost in the trash, phone calls cease, and then I'm alone again. I'm not sure who had it harder, my brother or I. Sometimes I think he was the lucky one. He moved out as soon as he turned 18, and it was right before we were moving again. He's almost 30 now, married, and soon I'll be an aunt.

But anyway. I'd be lying if I said I never tied myself to someone, because I have. My first boyfriend, Aaron. I was 14, and was just starting out in high school. A scared freshman lost in the giant halls of high school. And then the hand came to my shoulder.

"Need some help?"

He was perfect; 5"10', dark brown hair and even darker eyes. Pale white skin. He never had braces, but his teeth were perfectly aligned and crystal white. He smelled like he just got out of the shower, and wore a neatly ironed shirt with slightly worn but clean jeans. Oh yeah, he was a junior too.

"Uh, yeah... I have World History first..."

"Hey, that's my class too! Come with me, it's just down here."

His hand still stayed on my shoulder as he lead me to the classroom down the hall. Not a word was spoken between us; I feared that if I spoke, my heart would rush up and fall out of my mouth.

It went great from there; it was like he took it upon himself to show me around the school and be my friend. In about six weeks after our first meeting, he asked me out. My parents were a little weirded out about it at first, me dating a junior, but they really liked him, and he was a very responsible kid; he always made sure I was home on time, asked if he could hold my hand, and bought me flowers whenever I was down or sick. He even took me to his junior prom, which made all of the freshmen and sophomore girls jealous, even though I had to be home before 11.

I loved him. Like a fool, I let my feelings get mixed in when I shouldn't have.

We went out all through high school, and he never made me feel uncomfortable or became a jerk to me. But then, after I attended his high school graduation, I had to break it to him that I was moving. Yet again.

And it all just went downhill from there. I didn't think it would be fair to either of us to still be dating and be seperated like that; I'd be three states away, he'd be going to college and I'd be finishing my last year of high school.

So after a lot of crying and talking, we broke up, and I moved. I haven't talked to him since, but thinking about the entire thing still makes me sad. In a way, I hate my parents for making me go through that. But enough of the past, I hate looking back.

Well, time to go to class. I finished my breakfast, combed my hair, put on the rest of my clothes, and let Twilight outside. I grabbed my keys, my bag, and walked out my door, locking it behind me.

[OceanEyes28]

((OOC: Yeah, I got bored and wrote a post, but feel free to backtrack to the party if you have business there to take care of. Just... fyi))

“Oh…. God….” My head was ****ing killing me. Oh shit. ****ing shit. Oh my God. Satan skull ****ed me and spooged the fires of hell into my brain. Oh my GOD! Oh ****, don’t scream like that, you dumb bitch…

“Morning, whore.”

“Jessica?” The lights weren’t on, but the sunlight coming in from the window alone was enough to where I couldn’t open my eyes all the way. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Think about it for a second.”

“Are you retarded? I’ve never been this hung over in my life, and you want me to think? You know what? **** you.”

Jessica sighed and brought me an Advil and a cup of coffee from some Starbucks. She sat down on the edge of my bed and stroked the hair out of my eyes. “Liz, sit up.”

“Mmmpgh.”

“Come on, don’t let this get cold.”

I reluctantly sat up on my elbows. I felt her cool hand on my back slowly helping me all the way up. “I can’t believe you actually bought me coffee.”

“I owe you for those Oreos.”

Oh my God… don’t tell me she’s really a nice person and I’ve been hating her for no reason. I’m already having an identity crisis, I don’t need a…. a…. judgmental crisis?

“Jess… be honest… how badly did I **** up last night?”

“I don’t know what you drank, but you weren’t yourself at all, that’s for sure. I’d stay away from the liquor from now on.”

“What did I do?”

“You were sitting on this couch. And then this guy comes up to you and starts slobbering all over you. Then he takes you into a pantry, and you guys have sex.”

“You’re ****ing kidding me.”

“I wish.”

I wanted to scream, cry, and kill all at the same time. Most of all, I wanted to die. Shit damn ****. Shit…

I lurched forward, “I need a shower.” Jessica caught me before I smashed my face against the floor.

“Liz. Hang on a second.” She held me firmly by the shoulders (yoga was paying off). I wouldn’t look at her. I couldn’t move my eyes without it hurting. “After he finished, we found you by yourself in the pantry. Victor carried you home.”

“He did what?”

“He seemed bothered. I think he likes you.”

“Don’t tell me that… I… If he does, I don’t understand him.”

Jessica looked at me for a second, blinking in disbelief. “Oh my—Liz… Did I just witness a moment of sensitivity? Is there actually a human somewhere inside of you?”

Ugh.

“Get away from me and let me shower.”

I tried to scrub last night out of my pores. My body didn’t even feel like mine anymore. I had become a stranger, and I didn’t like it. I sat down on the shower floor. The water beat against my back, and I rested my head against my knees. I felt disgusting. What had I said last night? What did I do? The more I thought about it, the more I remembered. I remembered his body on top of mine. I remember the pantry door opening. Had I been… was I crying? They picked me up very carefully. I stopped crying. Ugh, what a ****ing child. I’m sorry.

Shh, it’s fine.

You know? You’re an okay guy.

….Thanks.

At that moment, I hated myself. But why? Why the hell did I give a rat’s ass what Victor thought of me? I didn’t even know him. Maybe that’s why. I didn’t feel like I knew anything anymore. I felt sore, tired, hungry, and pathetic. I wanted… I didn’t know what I wanted. Perhaps, I thought, it would be best if I just stayed away from people. Do the world a favor, damnit.

Once I got out of the shower, Jessica offered to buy me lunch somewhere.

“Lunch?”

“It’s noon.”

“Jesus Christ…”

"I don't like your shirt," I say.

She's got one of those shirts, by the way, that says: Bitch? Moi?

"I thought you'd say that," she says, resting her chin on a hand, "that's why I wore it."

Sophie raises an eyebrow at me and I almost laugh. I force myself not to betray even a smile. I have a facade to maintain.

Her look tells me, Go on. Tell me why you hate my shirt.

So I tell her.

"Embracing your true self is the surest form of denial. Especially when you try to do it with a sense of humour. It's not cute, it's not funny, and girls who wear it think they have free reign to be a bitch by virtue of the fact that it's emblazoned right there on their shirt. Across the chest I might add, so that you can act like a bitch when you catch someone reading it."

She grins at me mischievously and pokes a fork into her salad.

"Got it in one Jim. And I don't think I've ever heard you say so many words at the one time!"

She seems genuinely impressed. Sigh.

"You're right. It's too early for me to be spouting off entire lines of dialogue. I've reached my word quota of the day. From now on, it'll be just a nod or a shake," I reply.

She looks at her watch. Noon. She looks at me. She shakes her head. I shrug my shoulders.

There we go. Non verbal communication. Have I mentioned I'm not much of a talker?

"So. Mark didn't come home last night."

So I tell her. We were working on our assignment. We got bored and started drinking. Ended up at some random party. I didn't tell her that Mark hooked up with some random. Told me to cover for him. I didn't tell her how many times this has happened.

She looks at me and I think she knows. And I think she knows I know she knows. There's a glimpse of something unfamiliar, a sad look that you'd miss if you even blinked, and then it's gone. She's fine, all smiles again. We're all living in denial. Mark's in denial that he loves Sophie. Sophie's in denial that Mark loves her. I'm in denial that one day Sophie will realise what a jerk my best friend is and what a nice guy I am.

She smiles and puts her hands over mine. It's the softest touch, but what I feel is electric. In a moment of self consciousness and intimacy, I deal with it the only way I know how. I disconnect. I try to notice everything else around me. Focus on anything but me. I am not the centre of this universe.

There's an elderly woman complaining about her order. A 20 something guy finishing off a crossword, probably waiting for a friend. An unhappy couple trying not to look like an unhappy couple.

Sophie squeezes and despite myself, I'm being drawn back to her.

"Pay attention. I can read your mind. I know exactly what you're thinking," she says mysteriously.

"Oh yeah?" I try to push any inappropriate thoughts of Sophie out of my head. It doesn't work. I wonder what it would be like to kiss her on the neck.

"You're thinking... How does she know what I'm thinking? Right?" she giggles.

My heart is telling me to ask her. So. I bite the bullet. Better now than never.

"Sophie. Do you ever..."

Her bag is vibrating and she pulls her hands away from mine. Just like that, and the moment is lost.

Do you ever wonder what it would be like if you had chosen me instead? ... I could never have said it. I'd never betray my best friend, and besides I'm a coward. I can tell that's Mark on the phone now. I can tell by the smile on your face, the lowering of your voice. Maybe in some alternate universe, that's me on the phone whispering sweet nothings into your ear. The miracles of mobile telecommunication.

Wishing I was anywhere but here, I down the rest of my coffee.

There's nothing worse than a cup of cold coffee.

[OceanEyes28]

“Jack’s.”

“What the hell is Jack’s?”

“I like eating there, and I think you’ll like it too. Walk faster, slow poke.”

“Not the time, Jess… Not the time.”

I was trailing behind her like a stoned puppy. I looked decent. Actually, I just looked exhausted and gaunt and unhappy. She ran back to retrieve me, and tugged on my wrist until we reached the restaurant. I looked around, slowly taking in those present. An elderly woman, a man with a puzzle, an unhappy couple, and an awkward one. At least, the young man was awkward. The young lady seemed enthralled in another conversation. Probably with another man. Then I looked towards the bar.

Oh. ****.

My heart sank into my stomach, and I thought I was going to throw it up. Yeah, right there in front of everyone. My ice cold heart, right there on the ground. Oh my God, if you love me, you will strike me down. He was starting to turn around. He was in profile now. Oh damn. Oh shit. Oh! Bathroom.

“Hey, Jessica,” he said.

“Hey! Wow, Victor. I’m just here with-” her graceful gesture was cut short once she realized that I was no longer standing behind her. “Hmm…”

“Take a seat,” the woman at the counter said.

I saw all of this through the crack in the bathroom door. I wasn’t coming out until he left. I didn’t care if I was starving.

……Hang on a second. What is this? I’m hiding in a bathroom? From a boy? Give me a break. I want a cheeseburger. I put my hand on the door handle. Come on. I pushed lightly. *****, just do it. I took a deep breath, and stepped out.

“Liz! There you are!” Jessica smiled and patted the stool next to her.

And now everyone was looking at me. Even the woman behind the counter as if she too knew what I had done. Perfect.

“Look.” I sighed and watched my feet toy with the idea of taking a step towards him. They didn’t. “I’m sorry about everything last night. I’m not… See… I’m just sorry. I don’t know what was wrong with me, but I really don’t have an excuse. I guess that’s all I had to say…” I hadn’t been looking at him at all, but then I brought my eyes up to look directly into his. “Thanks for taking care of me last night.” And then they drifted back to the floor.

Silence. I felt my face growing hot. My whole body was warm with embarrassment. I didn’t like giving a shit. I didn’t like it at all. It was painful, and it was awkward, and it made me feel vulnerable. “Jessica, I’m not really hungry.” Lie. I walked out of the restaurant and started to head back for the dorm. Maybe I would make it in time to get cafeteria food.

(OOC: might be out of turn, but thought i should extend the tendrils of acquaintancy (is that a word?) to explain my part in this story.)

Death Cab's Death of an Interior Decorator as hundreds of metal balls float by serenely.

Which is not to say that one has anything to do with the other; they just happen to be the two things I'm considering at this particular nanosecond of my life.

There are a few other people watching the art display. It's just a shallow pit filled with water, and a whole bunch of mini bowling balls. They glide along, making contact with each other and going off at tangents until they collide again. Lather, rinse, repeat, ad infinitum, ad nauseum.

I find it soothing, somehow. Stupid, really. A bunch of floating, colliding balls somehow moves me, yet when you think about it, it's utterly pointless. Reminds me of life. Just sitting here, watching it float by.

The silence in this museum isn't the oppressive silence you get out there, on campus, in the city. The silence that pulses menacingly, behind and between the roar of traffic, the almost deafening sounds of thousands of voices fighting for sonic real estate.

Silence is a strange thing and not always the same. Museums and libraries have a quiet dignity about them, the silence here is different. I can't explain it. So I choose to ignore it.

The music washes through my headphones softly, as if trying not to scare me away: This is fact not fiction, for the first time in years...

It's 4pm. In between noon and now I've handed in my assignment, avoided meeting up with Mark, and skipped two classes. How eventful. Now I'm here, peoplewatching. I've had my fill of the floaty balls, so my attention is turned to the people gathered around.

A middle aged guy is wearing a baseball cap indoors: Probably balding.

A young security officer is seated in the corner of the large room, not even a table to sit at. She seems lonely, out of place, but maybe it's the chair that's lonely. If ever there was a chair and a security guard in need of a table, it was this pair.

Two teenagers slink past the pool. One of them points something out to the other, and they both break out in muffled hysterics. Obviously they've spotted the sign accompanying this display: Please handle balls gently. No one else appears amused.

The last track ends and silence takes over. That's my cue to get out of here.

That's when I spot her. Directly opposite me. I saw her earlier today at the restaurant. She'd come in and run out straight after making a scene.

I remembered the moment when she entered and our eyes met for the briefest time. Nothing special in the look, just the feeling that came along with it: we were two strangers with greater problems on our minds, both wishing we were anywhere but here, with anyone but you.

She catches me looking at her, tilts her head slightly, and a spark of recognition. I give her a small smile, despite myself. She returns my smile and I see the sadness in her eyes once again. And that's it. I don't go over and introduce myself, she doesn't tell me her name, we don't discuss our deepest hopes and greatest fears.

I start to walk away, chancing one last look before I leave the building. She's fallen back under the hypnotic spell of the floating spheres. Her face turned away like that, she reminds me of an Elliot Smith song.

I debate with myself whether seeing her a second time is chance or fate, decide on the former and realise I'll probably never know the answer to a million questions that have suddenly formed in my head.

Oh well, okay.

[Pete for S-Mod]

What a lay.

Last night had been what I wanted it to be. And of course, I wanted it to be sex. Great sex. Well, wait. It wasnt great sex, it was okay. Sex is really just like getting a car wash. It isnt always going to be great, and sometimes they will leave it gooey and sticky, but at least you can brag about it to your friends. And, minus reproduction and the sensation of it, thats what sex is for, right?

No no no. Wrong. Isaac, master of the universe, dont girls have purposes other than looking pretty and having holes to put yourself in? Well, no, not really. After all, I know how to cook.

I left the party after doing the girl in some sort of pantry, something or other. I took her in there, because frankly, I didnt want to be seen screwing a drunk whore. If she had been some abstinent Jehovahs Witness that I converted to the dark side, I would do her on the couch, and invite everyone to come watch. But drunk whores are easy to screw. Fat kids, nerdy kids, lesbians, all of them can screw a teenage girl who is drunk, a drunk whore. So why show the world? That would be like saying, "Hey, look! I can breathe!". That girl was so wide, I knew I wasnt the first, or the first hundred for that matter.

That night, I went home, and by home, I mean my parents home. I decided I would enroll in college. Now, it might seem odd to you for someone to go to their mother late at night and ask for a couple grand to start college, but his parents had money. Mom, Dad, and sister lived on beach. Dad went to his office building that he managed, and screwed the secretary by the fax/copy machine. Mom stayed home and screwed the pool cleaner. Sister went to high school and screwed the teacher she was flunking in. Now, I wonder where I got my sexuality from?

Anyway, they arent evil. They indulge in their wildest fantasies, sure, but they want me and my sister to be successful. Every day they asked me to go back to school. Now I will. I know some of the kids that go there, should be fun. What would be fun would be the challenge of screwing crater vagina again, in sober mode. Hell, maybe we will fall in love.

[OceanEyes28]

What am I doing?

My feet pressed against the plush lawn, and my canvas shoes were damp with sprinkler water dripping from the green blades. There was a breeze, and I remember walking with the sun on my back. I had decided against going back to my dorm. Someone would know where to find me if I went back. I was wandering around campus when I saw a small gathering of strangers around a pool. It was quiet, and no one noticed me. I had hoped for that. I knelt down and looked into my reflection. She looked back. I didn’t know what to say to her. I felt as if I had betrayed her image. I wanted to reach out and touch her, but that was against the rules. What a quaint comparison I had just made for myself. I wouldn’t let anyone reach out and touch me because I had made some rule for myself that no one was really out to love me.

The large metal spheres sang against one another and sent ripples stretching across the surface. Here is my own metaphor. People meet. Their souls ring together and cause ripples. I felt eyes on me and looked up. He sat across the pool, and I recognized him after a moment. The guy from the restaurant who had been with the pretty girl on the phone. At first I wondered why he was looking at me so intently. And then I understood. He saw his own look of sadness reflected in my eyes as I saw mine reflected in his. Then we smiled in acknowledgment that we both understood. I looked down at the pool again. When I glanced back up, he was gone.

The crowd had thinned, and I was surrounded by silence. I thought about it again. What I had done, the label I had made for myself. Ethan had been my second. My first was in highschool. And now I was completely lost. I was looking at the girl in the water again, and I felt empty. My chest was aching, and my throat was swollen with tears I had swallowed for so long. I couldn’t help it. Believe me, I tried. But before I could stop it, I had begun to cry. It was a quiet trembling cry, and the tears were hot and reluctantly oozing from my eyes. A sob escaped and I choked it with a hand over my mouth. I was sucking in air through my fingers and every exhale was accompanied by a whimper. Oh my God. What am I doing? What the **** am I doing?

[Lover Boy]

Well all that was unexpected. Liz was here, and before I could even say anything, she was gone. Jessica smiled at me.

"Aren't you going after her?"

I turned and sat back down the rest of my coffee.

"I haven't chased a girl since High School."
"You also haven't had a girl since High School."

I looked at her and gave a smug smile.

"Victor, we had sex twice. Twice."
"Did I chase you?"

She was not amused. She sat down, and brushed Darlene off as she came and offered coffee.

"Vic."
"Yeah?" I kept coy, kept looking in front of me. She wasn't going to change my mind.
"Vic."
"Mmm?" I took a sip of my coffee. She wasn't going to change my mind.
"Victor, you'd be a good one for Liz. You're not a total asshole, you have it in you to be a sweet guy. Don't let last night get you down."
"I'm not down, i'm just enoying my cup of coffee."
"Shut up, you know you were counting on a double date."
"Well, I hadn't planned on it, but that's what appeared to be happening. I mean, she could have atleast been decent enough to extend the chance up her blouse to me. I am much more attractive than the guy she ****ed last night."
"Well, to be honest, that isn't much of an honor. It didn't take sober eyes to see he wasn't much to look at. Here. Take."

She layed a key on the table.

"It's my dorm key."
"And? What, you want me to walk into your dorm like a stalker and woo Ms. Liz upon my arrival? This isn't a movie."
"I didn't say that. You simply subconsciously want to do that."
"You ****ing psychology majors. You know, when you told me you were studying to be a head doctor, I made a point to bag you quick."
"Why was that, anyway?"
"I didn't know you meant psychology." And I winked. God damn i'm smooth. She laughed a bit.

"Fine, i'll take the bait." I grabbed the key, finished my coffee and left money for Darlene. I got nearly to the door and stopped.

"Wait.... aren't dorms .... especially female dorms.... strictly monitored? You know, big butch dyke-looking girls to make sure that horny little perverts don't get in for panty raids?"
"If you get stopped, the girl's name is Melissa. Tell her that if she lets you in, the story about the State Fair is as safe as the gold in Fort Knox. And if you strike out with Liz...."
"Yeah?"
"Melissa is desperate. And redheaded."
"Ewww. Redheaded girls are usual--"
"No, a cute redhead."
"oooooh."

[OceanEyes28]

What had I been reduced to? A melodramatic scene from a movie where the heroine breaks down and cries in the middle of a public place. Queue the soulful piano and violins. Prince charming will be here at any second to find her and kiss her tears away. Right?

In reality, I got myself under some control and walked away from the pool before anyone figured out where they knew me from or what my name was. And then, without any glamour or romance, I went back to my dorm.

Walking down the hallway, I started humming this song to myself. This is embarrassing… Have you ever seen The Sound of Music? You know that… one song… that she sings to make herself feel better? Yeah. Okay, picture this. Here I am, mascara dried on my face, and I’m skipping down the hallway singing Favorite Things. What the ****. I got to my door and unlocked it right as I was singing, “And then I don’t feeeeeel… so baaa-AAH!” I leapt back and slammed the door shut again.

I was on the other side of the hallway, my back pressed against the wall. There was a boy in there! I stood for a moment to catch my breath… and then I noticed something. There was laughter coming from the other side of the door. That mother****er was laughing at me. I clenched my fists and marched over to my door. I threw it open. At least, I tried. Something stopped the door from hitting the wall. That something being Victor’s face.

“****!”

“Victor?!”

“Oh… shit!”

“What are you doing in my room?!”

“My NOSE!”

“That’s what you get for being in my room!”

“My ****ing NOSE!”

“There’s more where that came from if you don’t tell me why you’re in my goddamn room!”

Victor glared at me and ran into the bathroom to lean over the sink. ****ing bastard. I followed him and got him a wad of toilet paper. Then I brought him over to my bed and had him sit down. “Lean your head back. Hmm… I don’t think it’s broken. Nice hit, though.” I brought him some ice wrapped in a washcloth, and held it to his nose. Then I noticed that my other hand was on the back of his neck. I took it away and set it on my lap. “So why are you here?”

“Have you been crying?”

“That’s not really any of your business. Now answer my question.”

“Jessica gave me her key and told me to. I’m not really sure why I listened to her.”

“Ha.”

“I’m glad I did, though.”

I sighed and checked the swelling. He had nice eyes. “No permanent damage. Unless you sneak in here again.” I smiled and put the ice back on his nose. And then we just sat there for a while. I broke the silence with my stomach. It was reminding me that I hadn’t eaten once that day.

“Did you not get any lunch?”

“No.”

“Let me take you to dinner.”

“What?”

“Come on.”

“No.”

“Think of it as payback for hitting me in the nose.”

“You snuck into my room.”

“I’m bleeding.”

I took the ice away from his face. He smiled. I got up and walked over to the door. I opened it and looked back at him.

“Let me get cleaned up. Come back in 10 minutes. I’m paying for half of it.”
__________________________________

((And an edit… because Daniel can’t think of anything good. I’ll get him started.))

Getting ready included washing my face and re-applying mascara. I’ve never been fond of applying bat poop to my face, but my eyelashes are shit. Oh wow, look at that. My eyelashes are bat shit. I slay me. After I fixed my face, I put on new clothes and slipped peppermint chapstick into my purse. Don’t laugh, and don’t assume anything. I don’t like when my lips get dry.

He came back in 15 minutes. As I was locking the door behind me, Victor asked, “So… where do you want to eat?”

I stopped. What the… I turned and looked at him. “You mean that you didn’t have some idea of where you wanted to go before you asked me out?”

“At that point, I didn’t think you’d say yes. You caught me off-guard.”

“Great.” Oh, irony. I thought for a moment. “Change of plans. I’m taking you to dinner. We’re going in my car.”

“Whoa.”

“Hurry up, it’s a long drive.”

I drive a Civic. I threw the books and papers in the front seat into the backseat and unlocked the door for Victor.

“Nice pile.”

“Shut up.”

I knew exactly where we were going. If I had to eat dinner with Victor, I would do it somewhere I enjoyed. The college was inland, but after a good 30 minute drive, you’ll find yourself at the beach. Right on the beach was a small wooden building that always had its windows open. Trust me. Thirty minutes in the car with Victor was worth going to the Backporch. If you tried their key lime pie, you would understand.

So why did I seem to be going out of my way to eat with him? Thing is, I just got dolled up (I used that loosely), and I wanted a night out to show for it. Plus, when you spend too many nights sitting in your dorm, you start to feel like a huge loser. And he was cute. I’ve mentioned that, I think. He was someone I could stand to be around even if I found him hard to stand at times. I could make it through tonight and possibly come out with a new friend.

Lab's canceled. Why? Because some dumbass kid thought it would be cool to make a bomb during off-time to get extra credit. And I don't even have to tell you how that went, do I? Kid's in ER, and teachers and parents alike are going crazy over this. Absolutely nutty.

My next class, College Trig, isn't for 3 more hours. I could go back to my room and take a nap, but I'd never go to sleep at night. Being the academic geek that I am, I have no homework to do, so I'm all bored. Yay.

The wind picked up, and the gray clouds started to crowd around in the sky. I could hear thunder. I love storms, so I was anything but pessimistic about it. Starbucks was in eyesight, so I ran over there as the rain started to downpour. By the time I was inside, I couldn't even see the street in the pouring rain. I sat my backpack on the table and walked over to the counter.

Apparently it was a very slow day; a couple of guys were in the far corner hunched over their laptops, venti cups nearby, typing their life away. An older woman, probably a teacher, sat on a chair with "War and Peace" in her hands. Damn, I hope I never have that for a class.

"What'll it be today?"

I snap back to reality.

"Ummm... grande white chocolate mocha please,"

"Sure thing," he punches in the order; "$3.87, please"

Coffee is getting way too expensive these days. I hand him by debit and put in a dollar bill in the tip jar while he's sliding the card. After I sign the receipt, he hands me back my card.

"So... what're you doing today?"

"Got a class in a few hours, then work,"

"Tonight?"

"Homework, probably."

I know this conversation all too well; this guy's a new barista here, and since I come in for coffee about once or twice a week, he's always flirting with me.

"What do you do for fun?"

"Quite honestly? Homework."

"Oh c'mon, you've got to have some other kinds of interests,"

"I do, believe it or not,"

"You want to do something tonight with one or two of them with me?"

"You want to get me my coffee sometime soon?"

He laughs, then gets to work on my coffee. I have to admit, he's really adorable, except for the fact that he painfully reminds me of Aaron. He's got the really dark brown hair, and it's got a couple of sli