through it if I get nervous. If I get nervous? Ha! My fingers are already dancing in my hair as I pull the door open.
Chris is standing there, smiling confidently. He looks great. He’s wearing dark gray pants and a black button shirt with vertical gold stripes. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He looks casual and classy at the same time. I wonder how long it took him to decide what to wear. Five minutes, probably, if that. I don’t think guys stress over this stuff like girls do. Especially girls like me. I’m glad I decided against jeans.
I’ve barely opened the door when the smile drops from Chris’s face. He stands there, staring at me with his mouth slightly open. His eyes travel slowly down from my face to my body. I feel like I’m on display, and that I’m failing the inspection. I knew I should have met him out in front of the dorm—I could have just jumped into his truck—but he wanted to be a gentleman and pick me up at my door. So now I’m stuck, standing here with nowhere to hide.
I look down at myself, wondering what he’s seeing. A thousand thoughts race through my brain. Did I spill something on myself? Am I too skinny? Too fat? Does he hate my outfit?
Say something, Chris, please. No, never mind, don’t say anything. I don’t want to know . I wish I could just disappear, or teleport myself somewhere. Anywhere but where I’m standing right now.
I’m never going on another date. Never, ever!
Chapter 9
“You look amazing,” Chris says finally. “Absolutely amazing.”
The smile is back on his face. I notice his eyes keep straying down to my legs and my boots. A moment ago I wanted to disappear. Now I’m floating. I feel like I’m in heaven. Thank you, Marissa!
“Thanks,” I manage to say. “You look pretty good yourself.”
“I’d ask for a quick tour,” he jokes, “but I can see the whole place from here.”
“Very funny,” I say. I take a quick glance over my shoulder. “It is pretty small, isn’t it? But I’m very happy to be here, believe me. Besides, we can’t all live in the Ritz.”
The Ritz is the nickname given by students to Sedgewick Hall, where Chris lives. It’s the newest dorm on campus, and it’s got nothing but suites, with each student getting his own bedroom. All the furnishings are also new, of course. Since dorm choices are given by seniority, no way can a freshman get into the Ritz. Not that I’d want to spend the extra money, anyhow. And Sedgewick is way over on the edge of campus, much farther from most of the classrooms than my dorm.
“No, we can’t,” Chris says. He flashes his teasing grin. “But if you behave yourself, I just might give you a tour one of these days. No charge.”
Uh, oh. Alarm bells begin to go off in my head. Is he already thinking about getting me back to his place? I am sooo not ready for that. My mind flashes ahead to the end of tonight’s date, imagining a totally awkward scene. How do I decline his advances, without seeming like a scared fifteen-year-old? Or hurting his feelings? Calm down girl , I tell myself, he’s just making a joke. You’re getting waaay ahead of yourself.
I look at him more closely. Happily, I don’t see any hint of a double meaning in his expression. Yeah, he’s just making a joke… I hope. Sometimes, it’s really difficult being me. My imagination is usually my own worst enemy—conjuring up disasters that never come to be. I remember something we learned in high school that Mark Twain said: “I’m an old man and have known a great many troubles, but most of them never happened.” That’s me, all right. I’ve endured a few real troubles, sure, but most existed simply in my mind. I wonder if I’ll ever outgrow that. Right now, it doesn’t seem like it.
Chris seems blissfully unaware of my inner turmoil. I am profoundly grateful for that. It’s bad enough that I have to be inside my head. I certainly wouldn’t wish it on him.
“Do you like living in Sedgewick?”
Chris is standing there, smiling confidently. He looks great. He’s wearing dark gray pants and a black button shirt with vertical gold stripes. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He looks casual and classy at the same time. I wonder how long it took him to decide what to wear. Five minutes, probably, if that. I don’t think guys stress over this stuff like girls do. Especially girls like me. I’m glad I decided against jeans.
I’ve barely opened the door when the smile drops from Chris’s face. He stands there, staring at me with his mouth slightly open. His eyes travel slowly down from my face to my body. I feel like I’m on display, and that I’m failing the inspection. I knew I should have met him out in front of the dorm—I could have just jumped into his truck—but he wanted to be a gentleman and pick me up at my door. So now I’m stuck, standing here with nowhere to hide.
I look down at myself, wondering what he’s seeing. A thousand thoughts race through my brain. Did I spill something on myself? Am I too skinny? Too fat? Does he hate my outfit?
Say something, Chris, please. No, never mind, don’t say anything. I don’t want to know . I wish I could just disappear, or teleport myself somewhere. Anywhere but where I’m standing right now.
I’m never going on another date. Never, ever!
Chapter 9
“You look amazing,” Chris says finally. “Absolutely amazing.”
The smile is back on his face. I notice his eyes keep straying down to my legs and my boots. A moment ago I wanted to disappear. Now I’m floating. I feel like I’m in heaven. Thank you, Marissa!
“Thanks,” I manage to say. “You look pretty good yourself.”
“I’d ask for a quick tour,” he jokes, “but I can see the whole place from here.”
“Very funny,” I say. I take a quick glance over my shoulder. “It is pretty small, isn’t it? But I’m very happy to be here, believe me. Besides, we can’t all live in the Ritz.”
The Ritz is the nickname given by students to Sedgewick Hall, where Chris lives. It’s the newest dorm on campus, and it’s got nothing but suites, with each student getting his own bedroom. All the furnishings are also new, of course. Since dorm choices are given by seniority, no way can a freshman get into the Ritz. Not that I’d want to spend the extra money, anyhow. And Sedgewick is way over on the edge of campus, much farther from most of the classrooms than my dorm.
“No, we can’t,” Chris says. He flashes his teasing grin. “But if you behave yourself, I just might give you a tour one of these days. No charge.”
Uh, oh. Alarm bells begin to go off in my head. Is he already thinking about getting me back to his place? I am sooo not ready for that. My mind flashes ahead to the end of tonight’s date, imagining a totally awkward scene. How do I decline his advances, without seeming like a scared fifteen-year-old? Or hurting his feelings? Calm down girl , I tell myself, he’s just making a joke. You’re getting waaay ahead of yourself.
I look at him more closely. Happily, I don’t see any hint of a double meaning in his expression. Yeah, he’s just making a joke… I hope. Sometimes, it’s really difficult being me. My imagination is usually my own worst enemy—conjuring up disasters that never come to be. I remember something we learned in high school that Mark Twain said: “I’m an old man and have known a great many troubles, but most of them never happened.” That’s me, all right. I’ve endured a few real troubles, sure, but most existed simply in my mind. I wonder if I’ll ever outgrow that. Right now, it doesn’t seem like it.
Chris seems blissfully unaware of my inner turmoil. I am profoundly grateful for that. It’s bad enough that I have to be inside my head. I certainly wouldn’t wish it on him.
“Do you like living in Sedgewick?”
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