I looked down at the schedule I found in Heather’s art bag to see what the classroom number was. I looked up at the door to check if the numbers matched. Wey Hall, Room 209. I was in the right place.
It was still a little early, so I was the only one in the room. As I walked in, I noticed that it was a rather large room with a chalk board at the front and one window at the back. Drawing easels were set up everywhere with stools behind each one. I didn’t know if Heather had an assigned seat or not, so I just picked one and sat down.
As I unpacked my stuff, I thought about the past two days. I had had a time thinking up a story so I could explain who Alex was to Peggy. Mental note: I was going to have to tell Heather that she now had a long lost cousin.
Monday had been quite a disaster. I had annoyed my theater teacher by correcting her when she had gotten some theater terms wrong. It finally got to the point that she asked me to leave the room. Then, after a nice four-hour break, came Religions of the World. I shocked Peggy, and apparently the rest of the class when I started asking the teacher a whole long list of questions. Some of them I actually stumped him on. Judging by all the reactions, I supposed Heather never spoke much in class.
Now it was Tuesday, and I was sitting in Heather’s art class. I was dreading this one. I could draw cartoons and charicatures, but serious art? That was Nick’s domain. He would’ve been rolling if he could’ve seen me trying to figure out how to get the paper to stay on the easel.
"Hey, Baby, so you decided to change seats on me today?" a voice beside me asked. I had been so distracted by the paper that I hadn’t noticed anyone sit down next to me.
I looked to my right to see a tall guy with long, sandy-colored hair pulled back into a ponytail and deep blue eyes. He also had stubble across his chin and a big, cheesy grin on his face.
"Well, uh, I couldn’t quite remember where I sit. I guess a bump on the head will do that to you," I said, smiling back. So, Heather had a boyfriend. He seemed nice enough.
"Oh, and I just thought you finally wanted to come over and talk to me," he flirted. "I noticed your bandage. What happened?"
"I fell off a chair; it’s no big deal," I answered as I still struggled with the paper. Did Heather know this guy? Why didn’t she ever mention him?
After struggling for a while with the stupid paper, I just threw it down beside my bookbag. Without saying a word, the guy walked over, picked it up, and placed it on the easel. I mumbled a thank you; my pride hurt because I had needed help.
"I guess you forgot a lot of things," the guy said as he sat back down. "I bet you don’t even remember my name even though we went to high school together."
I didn’t have the slightest clue who he was, but since I was challenged, I was going to have to try and answer. "Sure I do. It’s…it’s…uh…Kevin?" Kevin’s name was one of the most popular, so that had to be it.
"Nope," he grinned.
"Brian?" Second most popular.
"Wrong again."
"Nick?" Okay, okay, so I was going through all the Backstreet names. I knew that I should have admitted the truth, but my pride wouldn’t let me. It had the same principle as someone calling me chicken. Howie always said that I had too much pride.
"Alex? Howie? Harold? Scott? Thomas? James? Dwaine?"
"It’s Patrick, Heather. Man, that must’ve been a pretty bad bump," he laughed.
I glared at him. He was smooth; he was very smooth. He was ME! And I didn’t trust anyone who was as smooth as I was.
Finally, the teacher walked in, and class began. She was a beautiful blonde woman with green eyes, nice full lips, and a figure and a half. I was checking her out when I noticed a girl with hairy legs sitting across from me checking me out. I’d better stop before I got Heather into trouble. AJ, remember that you’re not AJ right now. You can’t be the flirt that you usually are. Behave yourself.
"So, how much did the bump affect your memory?" Patrick whispered as the professor began to teach.
I tried to ignore him and pay attention for Heather’s sake, but he kept staring at me so much that I eventually answered. "Well, I can remember some things, but not a lot. By the way, why are you staring at me?" I knew very well why he was staring at me, but it made me nervous.
"Because you’re finally talking to me. I’ve been trying to get your attention ever since the beginning of the semester. Has anyone ever told you how beautiful your eyes are?" Patrick smiled. Oh, please, I thought, get an original pick-up line.
"Thank you," I said and tried to turn my attention back to the teacher. He seemed like a nice guy. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to help Heather out in the romance department. I wondered why she had never talked to this guy before. She seemed like a rather friendly person when I spoke to her on the phone. I shrugged off the thought and attempted to draw what the teacher was telling us to draw.
I was attempting to get the flowers just right when I felt someone looking over my shoulder. I looked behind me to see Patrick hovering.
"Do you mind?" I questioned.
"It seems like you’ve forgotten a lot. Why don’t we discuss the assignment over dinner tomorrow? I could pick you up around seven?" he suggested.
Something about this guy bothered me, but I agreed to go out with him anyway.
"I’ll get it! I haven’t seen Patrick since high school!" Kasey exclaimed as she ran for the door. I heard her open it and say, "Well, hello. Come on in; make yourself comfortable. How long has it been?"
"About three years. How are you doing, Kasey?" I heard him ask. He was quite a charmer, wasn’t he? "Is Heather ready?"
"Not yet. Kasey, move out of the doorway. You act like you live here." Sandee had apparently followed Kasey to the door. Kasey lived in a dorm room on campus, but every night, she came over.
"Well, I’m over here most of the time anyway. I might as well live here," Kasey responded.
"Alright, give me money for the rent then," Sandee challenged.
As they began to argue, I figured that it was as good a time as any to make my entrance. I thought that since this was my first date as a girl, I should make a dramatic entrance.
Patrick’s face lit up when he saw me, and I could tell that he was hoping I could save him from the arguing. He was sitting on the couch and was dressed rather nicely. He had told me that he was going to take me some place nice and to dress appropriately.
I had searched and searched through Heather’s closet, but I never found a dress. Finally, I called Amy and asked her if she had anything. Five minutes later, she was at the apartment holding a little black dress that she rarely ever wore. Peggy lent me some black shoes, but they had heels on them. By the time Patrick had arrived, I still hadn’t gotten used to walking in them.
Patrick stood up to take my hand, but as I walked towards him, I tripped over the heels. We both landed on the couch…with me on top of him.
"Can’t you wait until the end of the date?" Sandee teased. I looked up at her. If only she knew that I was really a guy, and that I would rather have been going on that date with her. She should’ve been wearing the little black dress.
We stood up, and, with Patrick steadying me, we walked to his car. It was a nice little black number with leather seats. Not as pretty as my grey Expedition, but it was nice. I slid into the passenger seat and thought, this date shouldn’t be too bad.
Stay down, I thought. Please stay down. I don’t want to flash anybody. Ever since I had sat down at the table, Murphy’s Law had been taking over. Every few minutes, my dress would ride up on me, and I would have to adjust it. Not only did the dress annoy me, but my hose were making my legs itch, and my shoes were pinching my feet. How did girls handle all of this?
"Heather? Did you hear me?" Patrick asked. I looked up to see him leaning over the table and staring at me intently.
I dropped the bottom of my dress over my itching thigh, placed my chin in my hand, and smiled. "I’m sorry, what did you say?" I asked.
Patrick laughed. "I asked you how your lobster was."
"Oh," I said and looked down at my half-eaten lobster. "It’s great."
"Well, that’s good. After watching you dive into it like you hadn’t eaten in a month, it made me feel better about paying for the most expensive thing on the menu."
"Oh, I didn’t mean to order the most expensive thing. It’s just that I haven’t had lobster in three months. There’s a great place in Kissimmee that makes the best lobster." I stopped when I realized what I had just said. Had Heather ever been to Kissimmee, Florida and had lobster?
Patrick eyed me. "I thought you had never been anywhere but North Carolina and Virginia? That’s what you said at the beginning of the semester when Dr. White asked us if we had been to Italy," he said.
"Um, well, yes. Uh, my cousin Alex told me all about it."
"In social studies class back in high school you said that you weren’t very close to your aunts, uncles, and cousins when we were talking about our family trees?"
Did this guy memorize everything that Heather ever said? He was giving me the creeps. "Uh, " I began and glanced around the restaurant for a distraction. I found one in a fountain sitting in the right corner. "Wow! Isn’t that a lovely fountain?"
Patrick laughed. "You sure are mysterious. You have been ever since high school. I guess I’m not going to get any explanations out of you tonight, huh?"
"No, sorry. I like to keep my mystery," I answered. We became silent as we finished off our dinner.
After dinner, Patrick and I climbed back into his car and left the restaurant. It was a lovely night, and it had been a very nice date. Heather could actually like this guy. I’d have to tell her when I got the chance. I took my high heels off and stretched. Man, that felt better.
"Well, Patrick, I’ve had a lovely time. Thank you for a lovely evening, and now I’m ready to go home and get out of this dress," I said.
I looked over at Patrick and saw that he had a huge grin on his face. His eyes seemed to trail up from my legs. "Oh, Heather, the date’s not over yet. I’ve found this beautiful place up on the parkway where you can see the stars. No lights anywhere," he said.
"Oh?" I asked. After watching his eyes, my eyes narrowed in suspicion. That kind of line sounded very familiar, and that gesture was, too. But I could have been jumping to conclusions, so I was going to give him the benefit of a doubt.
He drove onto the parkway and found the spot he was talking about. He stopped and turned off the car. It was dark, and silence filled the vehicle, but the stars were beautiful. I smiled. Nick would have been absolutely terrified of the dark car.
I heard Patrick shift in his seat and felt his hand land on my shoulder. "Well, it’s you, me, and the stars. You’re looking wonderful tonight," he said.
I nonchalantly picked up his hand and moved it. "Thank you, but, you know, I really need to get home."
Patrick slid closer. "You know, I’ve had my eye on you ever since high school. Unfortunately, RD beat me to you. Come on, baby, just one kiss." Before I could stop him, he kissed me. His eyes were closed; mine were wide open. His left hand traveled up my thigh and his right hand felt my chest. I pushed against him until finally I was able to push him off of me.
"Okay, I think it’s time to say goodnight. Just take me home, alright?" I said.
Patrick looked surprised. "What do you mean? You know you want it. You fell on top of me at your apartment. You ordered the most expensive thing on the menu. You were hiking your skirt up at dinner," he accused. He then began to work his way up my leg again.
I pushed him away. "I don’t care what I did; I said no. Take me home."
"Oh, come on. It won’t hurt." He pinned me to the seat and kissed my neck. I struggled and struggled until finally I was able to lift my knee and hit him in the groin. He doubled over in pain. I then grabbed his arm and twisted it back.
"When did you learn to do that?" Patrick asked, surprised.
"Take me home or I’ll break your arm," I said, twisting harder with each word.
"Okay. OKAY!" he said. Satisfied, I let go and sat back in the passenger seat. Without saying a word, Patrick started up the car, and we left.