Dang it. I fall for it every time.
“Remember that guy? The one I fell on top of when I climbed out of Tyler’s window?” I ask hesitantly.
“Oh. You mean the guy whose name you refuse to tell us?”
Undeterred and suddenly in the mood to discuss it, I ramble on. “I ran into him today at Wally World while I was buying tampons.” I shudder at this memory and then sigh when I continue. “That wasn’t the worst part. Oh, no. The worst part was when I couldn’t stop looking at him. Like, totally checking him out.” I cover my face with the palms of my hands in mortification. “My god, Jenna. I was so utterly embarrassed. He must think I’m an utter idiot.”
Utter? Ugh.
“Uh, Abby? Hasn’t anyone ever told you that guys like being checked out?” She gives me a sometimes I wonder about you look before chewing on another pretzel. “They totally love it. They think you’re undressing them in your mind. It’s a turn-on.”
“I was not undressing him in my mind, I swear. But I was studying him like a science fair project.”
“Jeez, you are so adorable when you get all flustered.” Jenna pats my leg.
“I’m five foot seven—that’s not adorable. Petite—that’s adorable. You’re adorable. Puppies are adorable. ”
“Aww, schucks, you think I’m adorable?” My roommate clutches her heart and bats her long false lashes. “You’re so sweet.”
I let out a long sigh. “So, here’s the thing; he has a gap in his teeth. A freaking gap. My new kryptonite.” I run my fingers through my long hair distractedly, and frown. “He seemed kind of insecure about it, but I couldn’t stop staring. Like really, really staring. Because it was so… endearing. But then he started blushing. And I was already blushing, and ugh, it was horrible.”
Jenna stops chewing. “Well, shit, a gap. And sooo much blushing.”
I ignore her sarcasm. “Yeah. So then he made a wisecrack about my tampons, I died of mortification, and I exited stage left.”
Her green eyes get wide with interest. “What kind of a wisecrack?”
“The cashier asked if I wanted a receipt, and he said I probably wouldn’t be returning them. Because, you know. Tampons.”
“That. Is. Awesome. I already freaking like this guy.” She stuffs another pretzel in her mouth and leans toward me. “Tell me more about this gap.”
I close my eyes to conjure up a mental picture of Caleb. I need to remember the details so I can recount them to Jenna. Details like him standing in the checkout aisle in his faded, low-slung jeans, beat-up brown construction boots, black Badgers Hockey track hoodie, and baseball hat pulled down over his forehead. The dark, day-old stubble surrounding his strong sculpted jaw, an angry scar marring the upper corner of his eyebrow.
He looked angry, awkward, and about as embarrassed as I felt.
“I only caught a peek of it. He doesn’t really seem like the sunshine-and-rainbows kind of guy.”
“There you go again with the blushing,” Jenna teases. “And you’ve barely even said anything. I hate to break it to you, but guys totally dig the blushing, virginal look, and you’ve got it in spades.” She glances down at my white cashmere sweater and boyfriend jeans, and raises her eyebrows knowingly.
“Screw you.”
“Yes!” Excited, Jenna begins bouncing on the couch cushions. “See! Screwing! Now that’s the spirit we’re looking for!”
She’s so obnoxious. “Remind me again why I let you live here?”
“Because I just transferred to Madison, and Molly already had a roommate, so even though all we do is argue, you were so desperate for a sublessee you had to overlook my domineering personality and our penchant for fighting?”
“Yup. That about sums it up.” I fiddle with my hands, nervously twisting the middle finger where my gold ring should be. “Shoot! Crappers!”
“What?”
“My ring. I forgot to look for it. What if I sucked it up when I vacuumed yesterday?”
“Wait. The house gets vacuumed?” She lets out a titter. “Kidding. But you do know that if you sucked up a ring with the vacuum, it would sound like this.” Jenna begins making loud slurping sounds, complete with VVVvvvv suction noises, while she bangs an empty Coke can on the coffee table. When she’s done making a spectacle, she nonchalantly asks, “Want me to help you look for it?”
“Er, no. I’ve looked everywhere. I’m sure it will turn up eventually…”
“And you can’t remember the last time you had it?”
I stare blankly at the television screen for a few seconds, zoning out, then snap my fingers. “Tyler’s!”
I don’t always go crawling around on the grass outside decrepit frat houses, but when I do, I look like a homeless person scavenging for spare change.
Down on my hands and knees, my palms swipe at the grass in between the Omega and Kappa houses, my head bent so far down at one point, my nose skims the ground. And can I just add—for the sake of details—that grass actually went up my nostrils, and I sneezed a few times?