Stark's Dell

by Robin Roseau

  "What happened?" Linda asked quietly.

  "Marie didn't have Rachel next to her telling her she was scaring me."

  "Oh," Linda said. "I'm sorry."

  "It's not your fault. I would have been unhappy if you had told her my secrets."

  My pocket buzzed again, this time with a text message. Linda heard it buzz.

  "She's persistent," Linda commented. "Maybe if you put your phone between your legs, you can get a little joy out of this."

  I started to crack a smile at that, and decided I wasn't angry with Linda.

  I turned back to my book, and after another minute, snaked a foot over so I was touching feet with Linda. Okay, touching tennis shoes, but it was the thought that counts.

  That was when Linda's phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her purse and looked at it before answering it.

  "Hey," she said. Pause. "Yes, I knew." Pause. "Would you want me sharing your secrets?" Pause. "I'll ask her." She moved the phone to her chest to mute it and turned to me.

  I sighed. "Is she trying to apologize?"

  "Just look at your phone. Please? For me?" She offered me puppy dog eyes.

  "Fine." I fished my phone out and looked at the message that Marie had sent. "I'm sorry. Please can we talk? I'm not really a bitch, even though it appeared like it."

  I held it out for Linda to read. Then she pulled her phone back to her ear. "I don't think you'll get three chances, Marie, but you might get two if you grovel really good."

  The corners of my mouth curled up at that. Linda hung up, and fifteen seconds later my phone buzzed in my hand.

  "I'm sorry," Marie said. "You were right. I don't know you. You don't know me, either. I've had women jerk my chain a lot. I don't respond well to it anymore. But you weren't jerking my chain, and I'm sorry."

  "All right," I said. I wasn't quite ready to say, "I forgive you." And that seemed pretentious anyway.

  "So. Emily. I think you're cute. I would like to get to know you better. Would you please go to dinner and a movie with me on Friday."

  "Marie," I started to say.

  "Dinner and a movie," she said. "That's all I am expecting. Conversation. If we like each other, maybe we'll hold hands."

  "You have to be-" I didn't know what she had to be.

  "Gentle?" she offered.

  "Yes. You have to be gentle."

  "I'm good at gentle," she said, and I could hear the warmth in her voice. "Say, 5:30? I'll stop by your dorm."

  "All right," I said. "I'd like that. 5:30."

  Then we had that awkward moment of how do you end a conversation. Finally Marie just said, "You're studying. I'll let you go. Friday." And we hung up together.

  Linda was smiling. I turned to her. "This is going to keep happening. Everyone thinks because of that scene in the bar that I have all this experience."

  "Probably," she said.

  "So, maybe you should, I don't know. Spread the rumor I'm skittish or something? If it comes up."

  "Sure. If it comes up. I can do that."

  "Thanks." I smiled at her and put my nose back in my book. But I also kicked off my shoes and stretched my feet towards her. A minute later, she kicked off her shoes, and soon our feet were saying "hello" to each other without any tennis shoes in the way.

  I looked up several minutes later, and Linda was texting on her phone. I stared at her. "Texting Marie?" I asked.

  "Nope."

  She kept texting.

  "Who?"

  "Someone."

  I narrowed my eyes at her. "A girl?"

  "Yes."

  "Making a date in front of me?"

  She laughed. "You just did. But no, I'm not."

  But she was grinning at her phone and looked pleased with herself. "You're having phone text sex."

  "Sorry, no, but that's an interesting idea. You'll know when I'm doing that when I slip my phone somewhere intimate."

  "On vibrate?"

  "Of course."

  "Well, I shouldn't ask. Who you're talking to is none of my business. Even though you're here. With me."

  She glanced at me to see if I was really upset. I tried to glower at her, but judging by her nonchalant reaction, I wasn't very convincing. But there was something in her look that suggested my statement wasn't entirely accurate.

  "Or is it my business?"

  "You're the one who told me to spread rumors about you," she said.

  "You are not!" I said, leaning over to reach for her phone, but she pulled it out of my reach. "I said if it came up."

  "Maybe it came up."

  "When did it come up?"

  "Um."

  "Are you just posting to some lesbian texting bulletin board or something? If so, you could tell me so I could get clued in."

  She laughed. "No. Just to a couple of friends."

  "About me?"

  "Yes."

  "Give me!" I demanded, but she pulled the phone away again.

  I pouted. "How did I come up via text messages?"

  "Um. You didn't. You came up Sunday. And yesterday."

  "And it was critical enough you had to text them in front of me?"

  "Marie isn't the only one who wants to ask you out."

  I stared at her. "Did you give anyone else my phone number?"

  "No. But I might have mentioned you were going to be in the library this afternoon."

  Then she turned to her right, and I followed her gaze as a woman approached. I turned back to Linda.

  "Hey, don't blame me," she said. "You're cute. And you're out. And everyone saw you dancing with me."

  I buried my head in my books, uncomfortable with being the center of gossip.

  "Hey, Linda," said the newcomer. I glanced up, and she wasn't looking at Linda, she was watching me.

  "Hey, Jordan."

  From my sitting position, I couldn't have told you Jordan's height, but she had short, short hair and was dressed in baggy pants and a college sweatshirt. She was wearing some kind of boots I didn't recognize at the time but that I later learned were referred to as Doc Martens.

  "Who is your friend?" Jordan asked Linda.

  "Jordan," Linda said, making introductions. "This is Emily. Emily, Jordan."

  Jordan thrust out her hand, and her shake was firm but businesslike. She pulled up a chair at the end of the table, never taking her eyes from me.

  "So, Jordan," I said. "Were you texting Linda a few minutes ago?"

  Linda laughed. "No, she wasn't."

  I looked over at her. "Oh hell, Linda."

  "Why should she have been texting me?" Jordan asked.

  I looked back at her. "Did you know I was going to be in the library right now?"

  Jordan gave me a puzzled look. "I didn't even know who you were. Why would I have known you would be in the library?"

  I looked over at Linda and she had her hands over her mouth, trying to hold the giggles in.

  "You!" I said, pointing at her. "Have made me paranoid!"

  Jordan turned to Linda. "Your friend is weird. Are we still on for Saturday?"

  "Yep," Linda said. "You'll pick me up?"

  Jordan nodded and stood up. "Nice meeting you, Emily. I'll see you around." Then without another word, she turned around and walked away.

  I turned to Linda. "I am officially horribly embarrassed," I told her. She was still laughing at me, and I pulled my feet away from her.

  I turned sideways in my chair, pulling my feet underneath me, and buried my nose back in my book. But several minutes later, I stretched out a foot to Linda again.

  It wasn't until we were leaving the library that I ran into Linda's next friend. "I'm done in from studying," Linda said. "And it's dinner time."

  "I'm meeting Rachel," I said.

  "Does that mean I'm not invited?"

  "No, you can come," I said. We collected our books and headed out of the library. We had barely gotten outside before I heard from behind us, "Linda, wait up."

  We turned around together, and a petite Asian wo
man was running to catch up with us. She had long dark hair and amazingly delicate features. Once she got closer, I learned she only came up to my chin. She was as short to me as I was to a lot of guys.

  "Hey, Julie," Linda said. "This is Emily."

  Julie nodded to me, smiling. "Can I join you guys for dinner?" she asked. "If this isn't, I don't know. A date or something?"

  "Sure," said Linda without asking me. "We're meeting Emily's roomie. Come on."

  So the three of us walked across campus, encountering Rachel outside the dining hall. More introductions were made, and while Rachel was greeting Julie, I pulled Linda to the side.

  "Now this one I was texting," she said with a smirk.

  "She doesn't seem interested," I said.

  "Which means you'll have to ask her out instead," Linda said, then stepped back to join Julie and Rachel.

  Oh hell.

  We all got our trays, found the food we wanted, and sat down together. Linda arranged it so that Julie sat directly across from me.

  Dinner conversation was tame, and there was nothing about Julie's demeanor that suggested to me she was gay. Three quarters of the way through the meal, Julie got up to refill her water, and as soon as she was out of earshot, I turned to Linda. "You're trying to set me up to embarrass myself again. You want to laugh at me when I ask her out and she tells me she's not gay."

  Linda smirked again. "Julie is a friend. I wouldn't do something like that to a friend. Ask her out. Don't ask her out. But right now you're home alone for Saturday night, and I know for a fact, so is she."

  "Rachel and I could be doing something," I said.

  "We could, but you'd be a third wheel. I'm going out with Eric," said Rachel.

  Julie returned to the table, and we all glanced at her. "Were you all talking about me?"

  "No," said Linda. "We were giving Emily a hard time about her social calendar."

  Julie smiled, but didn't say anything. When she wasn't looking, I studied her.

  She wasn't just cute, I decided. She was really very attractive. She was petite but yet very feminine, with small but pert breasts, and I suddenly wondered what they would feel like in my mouth.

  I started to blush immediately, but thankfully no one noticed.

  "Julie," I said, once I recovered. "I was wondering?"

  She cocked her head and smiled sweetly. "Yes?"

  "Well, these two are both busy on Saturday. I'm not. I was wondering if you would like to do something."

  "I might," she said. "What did you have in mind?"

  "Um." I didn't have the vaguest clue what I wanted to do. I wanted to get to know her, I guess. But I couldn't say that.

  "Do you like art?" she asked.

  "Um. Yes."

  "There's a gallery in town. They're having an exhibit."

  "That would be nice. Would you like to go with me?"

  "I would," she said. "Are you inviting me to dinner first?"

  "Yes, if you like."

  "I might," she said. "Where did you have in mind?"

  I didn't know any of the restaurants. I knew the pizza places and the pool hall, but I didn't want to take her there. And I knew the Vietnamese place.

  "There's a Vietnamese place," I said tentatively.

  She looked cross. "Did you suggest that because I'm Asian?"

  "No. It's the only place I know except the pizza places."

  She laughed. "Well, I don't want to go there. If you want Asian cooking, I'll cook for you sometime. But there's a good sandwich place across the street from the gallery, and they have plenty of seating."

  She looked at me, clearly waiting for something. "Julie, would you like to have dinner Saturday, the sandwich place, and then go to the gallery afterwards?"

  "I would love to. What should I wear?"

  At that, I buried my head in my arms, and all three of them laughed at me. After a moment, I glanced at her, most of my face still buried in my arms. Julie was watching me, smiling lightly.

  "Are you going to help me out here?" I asked her.

  She shook her head slightly. "I've helped you enough."

  I thought about it. An art gallery meant there would be artists there. Artists had a reputation for dressing, well, artsy. On the other hand, arts buyers tended to be upscale. And that suggested that just about anything might be appropriate.

  So then I thought about what I wanted to see Julie wearing, and that made the answer easy.

  "I'll be wearing a dress," I said.

  And that's when Rachel frowned.

  "Perfect," Julie said. "What time?"

  "I can pick you up at 6:30," I said, happy for once she'd asked me an easy question. "If that's not too late."

  "No, it's perfect," she said. She pulled paper out of her purse and wrote her dorm room and phone number down, sliding it across the table to me. "Now I have to run. I have a paper to write tonight."

  And with that, she was gone. I turned to Rachel. "What's wrong with a dress."

  "One of your dresses?"

  Linda snickered.

  "Rachel, would you go clothes shopping with me Saturday?"

  "I'd love to."

  * * * *

  I didn't know what to expect from my date Friday with Marie. She had been so forward in our past encounters, and I was worried she would continue.

  "I don't know what to wear," I told Rachel. "I am just so used to jeans and whatever shirt is handy." I pulled out a fall shirt.

  "Put that back," she said. "What do you want to look like?" she asked.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Do you want to look like a tomboy? Or butch?"

  "I don't know what that means," I admitted.

  I watched as Rachel opened her computer and started clicking. Then she turned it around. "Is this the image you want to display?"

  I looked at the photo. It looked a lot like Jordan, Linda's friend from the library. "She looks, I don't know. Tough."

  "Yes, she does."

  Rachel pulled her computer back for a minute, then turned it to me again. There were photos of several women, all with distinctive looks.

  "When you're doing something athletic, of course you should dress appropriately. But what do you want to look like when you're on a date? Or at other social events?"

  The images were all over the place. There was still the woman in baggy pants and a tee shirt with another in tight jeans and a blouse. Another was dressed like a biker chick. One woman was wearing pants and a blouse. Another looked like a throwback to the 1960s. Two were in dresses, one looking much more natural, the other heavily made up. And one was dressed in what I thought of as "modern day slut".

  "Emily," Rachel said. "You're basically deciding who you want to be. You don't have to decide this. You can just go in whatever is comfortable. There is nothing wrong with that, but not making a decision is making a decision. When people look at you, what do you want them to see?"

  I looked at the photos and began to panic. Rachel was making this sound like an important decision, and I just didn't know.

  "I don't know," I said.

  "All right. Are there any of these you don't like?"

  "Yes," I said, laughing. "That one." I pointed at the slut. "And I don't think I'm a biker chick. And I don't like the woman with too much makeup."

  "This one is closest to how I normally dress," I said, pointing to the woman in jeans.

  "Yes."

  "This one, I don't know. If I'm going to go casual, that's not the look I want."

  Rachel closed the window with the woman in baggy pants and a tee shirt. I was left staring at jeans, dress slacks, and a dress.

  "I could be any of these," I said eventually.

  "Yes," Rachel agreed. "Which one do you think Marie most wants to see?" I pointed to the dress. "Linda?" The dress. "Julie?" The dress. "Do you think you would enjoy looking like that? It's more work than the jeans."

  "Will you help?"

  "Of course."

  In the end, I dressed very feminine
in a skirt and blouse. Rachel loaned me a necklace and eyed my ears, completely lacking in holes for earrings. Rachel did my makeup, and I had fifteen minutes before Marie was due.

  "Would you like to meet my mother tomorrow?"

  "That would be fun!"

  So I called her. "Hey Mom."

  "Emily, honey. How are you?"

  "I'm good, Mom. I have a date tonight."

  "What's her name?" Mom asked. She said it casually, and I was so proud of her for it.

  "Marie. I'm a little nervous. I don't know if she'll treat me the way I want."

  "Don't let her pressure you to do anything you don't want."

  "I won't. Mom, I don't have a lot of date clothes."

  "You're at school to study," she said, but I could hear the warmth in her voice.

  "I'm also here to grow up, and I'm making friends."

  "You have a credit card, honey, but I don't want you to go crazy with it."

  "I was hoping you would say that," I said. "Rachel and I are driving to the city to go shopping tomorrow. Is that okay?"

  "As long as your homework is done."

  I laughed. "There's always more homework, Mom, but I'm keeping up. We were wondering if you wanted to meet us."

  "Oh honey," she said. "I'd love to meet you."

  We made arrangements. Mom wanted to take us to dinner, but I told her it would have to be lunch. "We have to leave by four," I said. "I have another date tomorrow."

  "With Marie?"

  "No, her name is Julie. She's really cute."

  We talked for a few minutes, then there was a knock at the door.

  "I have to go, Mom. Marie is here."

  "Be good, honey. Have a nice time. I love you."

  "Love you too, Mom."

  While I was hanging up with Mom, Rachel got the door for me, admitting Rachel. Marie was wearing jeans and a blouse and carrying a fall jacket, and I gave Rachel The Look, but she ignored me.

  "Hey, Emily," Rachel said. "You look nice. Ready?"

  "Let me grab a jacket," I said. Rachel beat me to my closet and pulled out my dress coat. I gave her The Look again, but she just held it up for me to slip over my shoulders.

  Marie stepped out the door, and we walked down the hallway together, descended the staircase, and headed outside. She didn't take my hand, but then we didn't know each other was well as Linda and I did.

  "Thank you for giving me another chance," Marie said.