A Guy and A Girl

By Amicus

I’m off to college all by myself, first time alone. I white-knuckled it on the plane ride, I did all the rest and here I’m up to my earrings in homework. There must be some fun to be had in the middle of all the work, right? There is this one guy, but he’s older, not a professor but who is he, why are my eyes drawn, why do I keep seeing him and why won’t he look at me? Is there something wrong with me?

EXCERPT:
He didn’t look at me as he spoke. We took a couple more steps together, “Are you married?” God! Damn, Hell in a basket! Why did I ask that dumb question?

He stopped, laughed and turned to me with a really curious look on his face, “No... are you?”

I had to turn away. I was embarrassed and red faced and feeling really like a fool. “No.” I muttered almost to myself barely above a whisper.

I took another deep breath, sighed, slumped my shoulders but still could not turn to face him, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I asked that. It just kinda came out before I could stop it. Will you forgive me?”

He put his hand lightly on my arm and turned me to him, “It is improper enough to be walking with an older man, a complete stranger to you, and if he were also married, it would be even worse. It is a proper question; there is no need for you to apologize. Do you have a steady guy?”

Just the way he spoke, the sound of his voice, the tone that carried so much, the carefully chosen and enunciated words. I tingled all the way down to my toes as I gaze up into his eyes again, “No, no steady guy; you gotta girl?”

There was just a tinge of sadness that crept into his voice, “No, no regular lady, but I was married before. Have you ever been in love?”

I lowered my eyes, raised them again then looked away. What a strange and personal question. I looked back into his face and saw the apology before it came.

“I’m sorry. That was worse than your, ‘married’, question; my turn to ask forgiveness. I don’t know why I asked that.”
I smiled up at him, liking that he was taller and made a little gesture of supplication with my hands and shoulders, “It’s okay. I was just thinking that you have been married and then all of a sudden... well, you startled me with the question. And, I don’t know; I’m not even sure I know what it means to be, ‘in love’, with someone.”

We started walking again, slowly; I didn’t take his arm again until we stepped over a curb. Then I left my hand on his arm because it felt good and I liked the feeling. It wasn’t a total aimless saunter, I knew the park was nearby and I pointed out the benches.

“I saw you there, reading. I was driving by, not looking for you, but you dress differently than most guys and I recognized you.”
He smiled, “I only saw you the one time in the Library, but I remembered you too, when I saw you again.”
We made our way to the bench and sat at opposite ends leaving a space between us. We both sighed at the same instant. It felt good to sit again.

He stretched his arms out and up and twisted back and forth easing muscles, I did about the same.

“What do you plan to study at college?”

“I’m not sure yet. I get good grades, it comes easy for me, I like Math and Science, but, I really don’t know.”

“College can be a good place to discover what you really like, sometimes, if you don’t Party too much and if you get good instructors.”

“Did you go?”

“Yes.”

“Degree?”

“Yes, History and Journalism.”

“Oh. That sounds interesting.”

“Yup.”

“Journalism, that fits for writing. Did you use it for anything else?”

“I do newspaper work and free lance articles for whoever will buy.”

“Wow, that does sound interesting; do you like it?

“Love it!”

“My mom is in Real Estate. I think she really likes it too. She said I should find something I enjoy doing, makes it not seem like a job.”

“Good advice.”

“You don’t talk much. I just jabber on.”

We turn

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lot's Cave, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 29, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310178986

Book preview

CONTENTS

A Guy and A Girl

~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note

New Adult

Young Adult

Other Novels

by Amicus

I don’t like flying. I’m not quite the, ‘white-knuckled’, kind, but I am all tensed up during take-off, and stay that way until the announcements are made and the seatbelts come off.

I surprised myself, I mean like really. I’ve flown before, to visit my grandmother; I wore jeans and a T-shirt and sneakers, never thought a thing about it, I fit right in with everyone. Well, except the businessmen, always suit and tie and stuff.

So here I sit with a skirt just above the knees that slides up when I sit or even move and a soft white silk blouse open one button at the throat, a little vest kinda thing, ear-rings and a necklace and a silver bobble on my wrist. Imagine that? Bobbles, bangles and beads. I heard that somewhere.

Of course I know why all the changes; I know it fully and I’m not even a little upset. I like my, ‘new’ self; I like it a lot.

I was off to university, leaving home for the first time other than a week or so with relatives every couple of years. It was new and strange and exciting and a little bit scary, actually. I was leaving everyone and everything behind. Just growing up I guess, but—you only really do it once for the first time.

I took a lemon soft drink in a plastic cup with shaved ice and a little bag of cheese crackers from the Flight Attendant, a cute guy. Took a sip, changed my mind about the snack, put the cup in a holder, leaned back and closed my eyes.

There he was. I felt my lips curl in a tiny smile as a kaleidoscope of images flashed through my mind.

I think the first time I saw him was in the public library. I check out all the guys, just like guys check out the girls. But he didn’t even look at me. An older guy in grey slacks and a light tan jacket, matching sweater with an unbuttoned white collar; tall, thin, no expression on his face. I mean not real old, dark brown hair, no grey, but lines across his forehead and at the corners of his eyes; a good strong face.

He had two fair sized books in one hand, not paperbacks, but hardbound and thick. I wondered what he was reading and what he did. He looked like a teacher but I had never seen him in the school. Then his eyes swept the room, going right past me and he moved out of my view.

I had to think hard to remember that; the first time I saw him as I was all wrapped up in preparing for finals and irritated because the teacher insisted on ’real book’ research, no online references. I still don’t understand why