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“Killing time before my next class. You?”
“Yeah, same.”
“What’s your major, anyway?” I ask, before he can change the subject. I don’t know enough about him.
“Sociology. What about you?” His woodsy scent heightens that outdoor smell I was already enjoying as he reaches in front of me, picking up the edge of my textbook like he’s trying to guess my major before I tell him. As he does, his other hand rubs across the small of my back.
I start to say “psychology” but realize I’d rather know what type of job he wants. As I open my mouth to speak, I’m cut off by a good looking guy with chocolate brown hair and way too much swagger walking up to us.
“Hey, Dean. Hey.” The stranger directs the second one at me with a small head nod.
I give a small wave as Dean replies, “Hey, man.”
“Party at your place tonight still?”
“Yup, I’ll see you there.” I can tell Dean is trying to end the conversation, and the stranger takes the hint, waving at both of us before turning and walking away.
Before I have a chance to question him, Dean stands. “Well, I’m off to do college things. I’ll text you later?”
“Mhmm,” I mumble, but he’s already gone. What party was that guy talking about? Why am I not invited? I know I sound needy, but don’t guys know they can’t do this to women? We read into literally everything. I’m tempted to invite myself like he invited himself to my apartment, but I don’t know where he lives.
When he’s near me, I swear he’s drawn to me the way I am to him. Any time I’ve been within reaching distance of him, he finds a way to touch me, like he did a moment ago. I lost track of how many times his hand found my back on our first date, and even though he refused sex the other night, his hands were on me almost the entire time we were together. But as soon as we aren’t in the same room anymore, it’s almost like I don’t exist, or at the very least like a wall disconnects us temporarily. Maybe he’s not big on texting, but he hasn’t even tried to make plans with me again, and it’s frustrating, especially because I thought both times we hung out went really well.
I pick up my earbud to see which song was playing for Dean. The outro of Taylor Acorn’s “Are We” whispers into my ear.Do I play it cool like you’re just another guy I accidentally ran into, oh. Is it all in my head? Or are we just friends?At least someone understands me.
I wish I better understood his intentions. Let’s be real though, until he stops touching my back the way he does, and it stops lighting me up from the inside out, there’s not a chance of me walking away, regardless of how much I could potentially be misreading the situation.
I try to focus on my assignment. Who knew math would end up being less complicated than the men I’m meeting this year.
Finally finishing my homework, I slam the book shut, shoving it away from me on the coffee table. My brain cannot handle statistics after 10 p.m. Ready to relax, I reach for the TV remote, but my phone vibrates before I can push the power button.
Dean:Hey.
Maci:Hi.Isn’t he at his party right now?
Dean:Whatcha doing?Maybe he does want to invite me.
Maci:Just finished my homework. You?I ask him, even though I know.
Dean:Just chillin.
Maci:Yeah, partying on a Monday is how I relax too.I add the laughing emoji.
Dean:Need to take advantage of every opportunity while I still can.Or maybe he doesn’t want me there, since he clearly ignored that. Why is he texting me then?
Maci:Totally get it, I made a pact with myself to do that too.
Dean:Oh yeah? What opportunities are you looking for?
Maci:Normal ones. I mostly want to get out more, make the most of senior year. Maybe go to a frat party.
Dean:Frat parties are overrated. Do you party? I didn’t peg you as the type.Maybe that’s why he didn’t invite me.
Maci:What type did you peg me as?This could be my chance to see what he thinks of me.
Dean:I’m not sure yet. But not the party on a Monday type, definitely not the frat party type. You didn’t even go out on your 21st birthday, Maci.
Maci:Well, maybe I am the party type but don’t know it.I add the shrug emoji. How would I know if I’ve never really tried?
