Mine: A Love Story (6 page)

I step out of the elevator and see my door is part way open. Marissa must have gotten back earlier than she expected. I can’t wait to tell her about my date.

“Hey, Marissa,” I call as I hurry into the room. Before I can say anything else, I realize Marissa is not alone. Two girls I don’t know are also here. “Oops. Sorry. I didn’t know you had company.”

Marissa is sitting on her bed, legs stretched out in front of her, her back against the wall, an open can of Red Bull in her hand. She’s wearing a black T-shirt and teal yoga pants. The shirt has a game of Tic-tac-toe painted in gold on the front. Instead of X’s and O’s, it has X’s and hearts. The hearts have won the game, filling a diagonal row from bottom left to top right. When I pull my eyes away from the game on her chest, I see that her fingernails and toenails are painted to match her yoga pants. No way could I ever see myself with teal nails.

“No problem,” Marissa says. “This is Beth and Katie, from down the hall. We were just hangin’ out.”

I try to mask my disappointment at not finding Marissa alone as I exchange hellos with the two girls. Katie is very pretty, with long black hair almost to her waist and a dark tan. A royal blue cami paired with white capri pants shows off her tan. She’s sitting in the lotus position on the rug in the center of the floor, looking completely comfortable.

Beth is sitting on Marissa’s desk chair. She’s tall, though not as tall as me, and much thicker, with shoulder-length hair brown hair. She’s wearing jeans and a tight gray T-shirt stretched across full breasts. Big pink letters on the shirt proclaim
I’ve been naughty.
Probably not the shy type, I decide. 

“So, what gives?” Marissa asks after we all finish saying hello. “You came rushing in here like you’d just won backstage passes to a Taylor Swift concert or something.”

I sit down on my bed and draw my knees up against my chest. I don’t really want to talk about my date in front of two girls I just met.

“Oh, nothing really. It can wait.”

“C’mon, Heather,” Marissa says. “Beth and Katie are cool. Give it up.”

Now what do I do? I can feel my mouth going dry. I am so not good at this social stuff. I’m in college now, I remind myself. Time to grow up. Or try to, at least. I take a deep breath and decide to go for it.

“I wanted to tell you about my date with Chris,” I say.

“Sweet!” Marissa says. “Let it rip.”

“First date?” Katie asks.

“Yeah,” I say. I decide not to add it was my first date in a very long time.

“Great,” Beth says. “Tell us all about it.” She grins. “And make sure you don’t leave out any of the juicy details.”

Oh god, now what? They’re probably expecting something all hot and heavy, and all I’ve got is a g-rated story. I’m going to sound like a high school girl, I know it. A very young and naive high school girl.

Marissa must know how I’m feeling, because she jumps in to rescue me.

“Down, girls,” she says. “Heather’s a bit shy. Don’t expect anything too hot and heavy here.” She turns to me. “Why don’t you break the ice by telling Katie and Beth how you and Chris met. They’ll get a kick out of that.”

So that’s just what I do. I tell them how Marissa shoved me at Chris and about the red, blue, green, black thing. By the time I finish, we’re all laughing and I’m feeling much better.

“That’s hilarious,” Beth says. “Really hilarious.”

“Hilarious—and it worked,” Katie says, chuckling. “That makes it even cooler.”

“Did you wear your new outfit last night?” Marissa asks me.

“Yeah, I did.”

“What was the outfit?” Katie asks.

“Boots, black yoga pants and a grey silk shirt,” Marissa explains.

“Nice,” Beth says. “With those long legs, you must have looked hot. Wait until he sees you in a pair of Daisy Dukes.”

I don’t bother to tell Beth I don’t own anything even close to Daisy Dukes.

“She does look hot, believe me,” Marissa says. She turns to me. “Did Chris say anything about how you looked?”

“He said I looked amazing,” I say. “I almost didn’t wear it, but I couldn’t find anything else I liked. We need to make another trip to The Buff.”

“I love that place,” Katie says. “They have so much cool stuff.”

“Hey, is this guy on Facebook?” Beth asks. “I want to see what he looks like.”

I can’t believe I haven’t thought of that. I’m such a dork. I just don’t use Facebook very much, so it never crossed my mind to check out Chris’s page. I grab my laptop and sit back down on my bed. The girls crowd around me.

“Fifteen friends?” Beth asks as my profile page loads onto the screen. “What are you, some kind of monk? I’ve got over seven hundred.”

“I told you she was shy,” Marissa says. “She only had fourteen till she added me.”

“Add me and Beth,” Katie says. “We’ll get your total up there in no time.”

“You’ve got a friend notification,” Beth says. “Maybe it’s Chris. Click it.”

I click the icon, and sure enough, up pops a friend request from Chris. A warm feeling spreads through me.

“Should I accept?” I ask innocently.

Marissa shoves me playfully on the shoulder. “Ha, ha,” she says. “Very funny.”

I laugh and click “accept.”

“Sixteen friends now,” Marissa says, smiling. “The sky’s the limit.”

“Okay, now go to his profile,” Beth says. “Let us check him out.”

I click on his name and his page appears.

“He’s cute,” Katie says. “Really cute.”

“And it doesn’t say he’s in a relationship,” Beth adds. “That’s always good to see. Click the picture. I want to see a close-up.”

“Wow, nice eyes,” Katie says when the larger pic fills the page.

I click on another couple of his pictures and we all agree that he’s a keeper. I log off and shut down my computer. Marissa stays seated on the bed next to me, while Katie and Beth return to the chairs.

“So, did you two do the movie and pizza thing last night?” Marissa asks.

“Yeah.” I tell them about the movie and how much fun we had at the pizza place. I save Chris’s “as good as it tastes” comment for when I’m alone with Marissa.

“Okay, get to the good stuff, Heather,” Beth says. “Good-night kiss? More? Spill it.”

My cheeks begin to grow warm. I don’t really want to talk about this, but they’re all staring at me expectantly. I know this is the kind of stuff girls love to talk about, but I’ve haven’t done it since Brian and Gaby. And that seems like a lifetime ago.

“There’s not all that much to say,” I tell them. “It was kind of awkward.”

Marissa grins. “Now why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“What happened?” Katie asks. “What was awkward?”

“He walked me to the door of the dorm. I was pretty nervous. I’m sure he could tell, so he just went to kiss me on the cheek.”

“That’s it?” Beth asks, clearly disappointed by the lack of anything juicy. “Just a kiss on the cheek?”

“Well, not quite.” I’m feeling really stupid now, but I guess I have to finish my story. I hope they’ll think it’s funny, not pathetic.

“I’m not really sure how it happened,” I say, “but when he went to kiss me, I turned my head. I didn’t know he was already planning to kiss my cheek. Somehow, we both turned our heads just right and he ended up kissing me on the lips. We were both so surprised, it didn’t last long.” I smile. “But I liked it.”

“What’s not to like?” Beth says, grinning.

I want to talk more about the kiss, but it’s another thing I think I’ll hold off on until I’m alone with Marissa. I look over at her and find her looking closely at me.

“What is it?” she asks.

“Huh?”

“You’ve got something on your mind you’re not saying,” she says. “I can tell. What is it?”

Once again, all three of them are staring at me. My heart starts hammering in my chest. I guess I’m not going to get to wait.

“I, uh, wanted to ask you something,” I say. “About the kiss.”

“What about it?”

This is one of the things I’ve been worrying over the most. I really wish I was alone with Marissa, but maybe it will be good to get more than one opinion. I plunge on.

“Do you think it’s bad that he just wanted to kiss me on the cheek? I mean, if he really liked me, wouldn’t he have tried for more?”

“Maybe,” Marissa says. “But maybe not.”

“Most guys would,” Beth says. “But most guys are jerks. Maybe Chris is one of the rare ones—a nice guy.”

“If he is,” Katie says, smiling, “see if he has a brother, will you?”

We all laugh.

“Didn’t you say you thought Chris could tell how nervous you were?” Marissa asks.

“Yeah, I think so. I mean, how could he not?”

“So maybe he just didn’t want to make you feel any more uncomfortable,” Katie says. “If he tries for more of a kiss and you’re not ready, things can get awkward real fast, trust me.”

“Did he say he wanted to see you again?” Marissa asks.

“Yeah, he did.” I decide not to repeat how we danced around that topic. “We’ve got a date for Friday night.”

“Then there’s your answer,” Marissa says. “He likes you. Case closed.”

“Unless he figured asking you out again was the easiest way for him to escape,” Beth says teasingly.

“Stop it, Beth,” Marissa says. “You’ll give Heather an ulcer.” She turns back to me. “He friended you on Facebook, he asked you for a second date, and he texted you after he got home. He likes you. Period.”

I sure hope so, because I really like him….

I arrive twenty minutes early for my vampire lit class. Not because it’s a long walk from my dorm—which it isn’t—and not because I’m obsessively punctual—which I am. I’m here early to keep myself out of a potentially awkward situation.

I want to make sure I get here before Chris, so I don’t have to make any decision about whether to sit next to him or not. I know it’s probably not that big a deal—my friends have all agreed that he likes me—but it makes me nervous thinking about it. What if he
doesn’t
want to sit next to me for some reason? Better that it’s
his
decision, not mine. I keep telling myself to stop all the negative thoughts, but a lifetime of thinking that way isn’t easy to give up.

Anyhow, the room is almost empty. Only about a half-dozen kids are here this early, so I have my choice of seats. I decide to make it easy for Chris to find me, so I head down the second to last aisle and take the same seat as last week. Now it’s up to him—if he wants to sit with me, great. He can come join me. I sure hope he does, or I’m going to feel rejected. And I’m not sure how I would handle that.

I wonder if all girls are this paranoid about this dating stuff. Somehow, I very much doubt it—but cautious girls are.

The minutes crawl by. This is the downside to getting here so early—too much time to think. I pull my hair out of its ponytail and let it fall loose over my shoulders, giving myself something to play with. I wonder what the other kids would think if they knew I changed my clothes three times before coming here, trying to figure out the right thing to wear. I want to look good, but I have to remember that it’s just class, not a date. Marissa and I haven’t gone back to The Buff yet, so I had only my old stuff to choose from. I finally settled on what I probably would have worn if there were no Chris—my ripped jeans and one of my nicer T-shirts, a brown Hollister one. So I’m comfortable and at least mildly stylish.

The room slowly begins to fill, mostly with kids coming in by themselves, but some arrive in pairs or even small groups. The back of the room seems to be more popular than the front, and the empty seats around me are vanishing rapidly. I keep looking over my shoulder to the door, but there’s still no sign of Chris. I wonder if I should save the seat next to me. Then, if it’s really crowded when he arrives, he’ll have a good excuse to sit with me. Not that I want him to need an excuse, of course, and he probably doesn’t stress about this stuff like I do anyway. Still, if it were me, I’d love for the only empty spot in the whole room to be next to him. I fold down the seat to my right and put my notebook on it.

About two minutes before class is going to start, Chris walks through the door. He’s wearing a tight black T-shirt and jeans. He looks good. The shirt has a braided collar with one open button and some kind of gold emblem over the heart, but I can’t see what it is from here. He stops just inside the doorway and begins surveying the room. Looking for me, I hope. Should I wave to get his attention? Or would that be that too forward? Maybe I should just wait for us to make eye contact. Or maybe I should act like I’m not even looking for him. I’m debating whether to turn away or not when his eyes find mine and he smiles. Have I mentioned that I love his smile?

I smile back, and he heads toward my row. While he picks his way past all the kids between us, I grab my notebook from the seat beside me. No need to let him know I was saving it for him. Let him think he just got lucky. Maybe next time he’ll get here a little earlier, and we’ll have a chance to talk a bit before class.

“Hi, Heather,” he says as he settles down onto the seat. “Were you saving this for me?”

How do I answer that? If I say yes, it’ll show I’m interested, but he might think I’m desperate or needy or something. If I say no, he might think I don’t like him that much, and I don’t want that. God, dating is hard!

I decide to answer with a tease. Humor is a good way to say something without having to commit yourself to actually meaning it.

“Yeah,” I say with a smile. “I’ve been saving it just for you… or any other tall good-looking guy who happened to want it.”

He laughs. “In this class, I don’t think I have too much to worry about. I doubt there are even ten guys in here. But I may have to spy on you in your other classes, to see what kind of action you’re getting.”

Am I sick that I kind of like the idea of him spying on me? Next thing you know, I’ll be hoping he’s a stalker.

“You look good,” he says. “I like your hair loose like that.”

I start to wonder if that means he didn’t like it tied back, but for once I’m able to cut off my stressful thinking. He said I look good—let’s leave it at that. Note to self, though—no more ponytails!

“Thanks,” I say, as Professor Simpson appears on stage, saving me from having to say anything else. He’s dispensed with the cape and is wearing a rumpled black suit.

Class flies by. Dr Simpson is a very entertaining speaker, and he asks some good questions. There are a couple of girls in class who seem to be vampire fanatics. One of them even looks like a vampire, with pale skin and dressed completely in black. Just a goth, though. The vampire fans provide some interesting back and forth with the professor. I neither ask nor answer any questions, nor does Chris. We exchange a few whispered comments during class, but for the most part, I try to keep my attention focused on the professor. Try, I said—I’m not always successful. A couple of times I steal a glance at Chris and see a bemused expression on his face. I don’t think he takes this class too seriously. Like he said, it’s an easy credit. Twice, I catch him looking at me. He doesn’t turn away when I catch him, he just smiles at me. I fantasize about sitting here in class holding hands with him. How cool would that be?

Professor Simpson draws the class to a close by giving us our reading assignments. Reading about vampires is homework I can definitely handle, even though we’re still on
Dracula
.

“Can I walk you home?” Chris asks.

You’d better
, I say to myself. Out loud I say, “that’d be great.”

I wonder if he’ll offer to carry my books. I only have my spiral notebook and a paperback copy of
Dracula
, and he doesn’t seem to see the need to offer. I don’t mind at all, though. He already scored points when he carried my shopping bag home from The Buff.

The walk back to the dorm is fun. Our conversation is easy and casual—nothing at all to make my paranoid brain kick in with worries or questions, which is definitely saying something. By the time we reach my dorm, I’m feeling comfortable and even a little bold.

“Do you want to come up for a little while,” I ask. “You can meet Marissa.”

“Sure,” he says. “That’d be nice.”

He pulls the door open and stands aside to let me past.
Bing!
More gentleman points for the boy. He also lets me enter the elevator first.

The door to my room is open. Katie and Marissa are inside, sitting on Marissa’s bed and thumbing through a People magazine. I wonder where Beth is. She’s going to hate missing out on the chance to check out Chris in person. The girls look up as we enter. Marissa closes the magazine immediately.

“Hi, guys,” I say. “This is Chris. Chris, this is my roommate Marissa, and Katie, from down the hall.”

Chris flashes a friendly smile. “Hi,” he says. “Nice to meet you both. I’ve heard a lot about you, Marissa.”

“Heather’s mentioned you once or twice, too,” Marissa replies with a grin. “At least, I think you’re the guy she keeps talking about.”

Oh great, just what I need. I feel myself beginning to blush. Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to invite Chris up.

“I hear I have you to thank for me meeting Heather,” Chris says. “She claims you pushed her, but I think she was just making up an excuse to hit on me.”

Marissa and Katie laugh. I blush more.

“Well, maybe I did give her a tiny little shove,” Marissa says. “Just to help her get past her shyness.”

“Grab a chair, Chris,” I say, changing the subject. I motion to the one in front of my desk.

He pulls the chair out and straddles it, with the back between his legs. He looks pretty comfortable and at home, not nervous at all. I imagine how I would be, meeting his roommates for the first time. A total wreck, I’m sure.

I sit on my bed with my back against the wall. I try to think of something to get a conversation going about something other than me and my shyness, but my mind is a blank. Luckily, Katie comes to the rescue.

“So, how is that vampire lit class, anyhow?” she asks Chris. “Seems like a strange class for a college to be offering.”

“It’s filled with lots of very scholarly information,” Chris says, grinning. “I think it’s critical to any well-rounded college education.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Katie says, returning his grin.

And just like that, the conversation is off and running. Before long, we’re all talking and laughing like friends who’ve known each other for years.