12.31AM, Saturday, Dec. 5th
400 West 37th Street, New York
Date With Mr. Right (2)
I woke up this morning, with a massive headache. It took me a while to realize why I was feeling all panicky inside. My Senior Project…
I leapt up, and switched on my laptop. It was agonizingly slow. When I opened the file, I almost cried. It was due so soon… I had to do more work on it… I had to schedule another date with Blane… Reluctantly, I looked through my room, shifting away piles of books and underwear. It was next to the flowers Blane had given me. I cussed. I needed to buy a second vase. The stupid roses he bought me before wouldn’t die already.
“Blane?” I said, trying my best to sound perky and happy – the kind of annoying preppy girl all guys liked. My vocal cords stung from speaking in such a high register. Damn, it was tired pretending to be someone else. “How’ve you been?”
“I was so worried! What happened to you, last night?”
I closed my eyes. Crap. I forgot about that. “Uh, just my…cousin playing an un-funny joke on me.” I changed the subject, before my bad lying skills got me discovered. “I was wondering…what are you doing today?” Blane was so sweet, to be worried about me. I tried to feel happy about that, but it was impossible.
“Uh, Art class…Nothing afterwards. What do you want to do?”
“Maybe we could get something to eat, and I could show you my side of Manhattan. The non-posh-French-restaurant side. The greasy burger and chips side.”
“Oh… I don’t know.”
I rolled my eyes. He was a snob. God.
“How about we just meet at Art class, and talk about it later?”
“Sure,” he said.
I hung up, sighing. I then scrolled down my phonebook, to a different name. Oscar. It rung a couple times, before he picked up.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Oscar. What’s up? Didn’t see you leave at the Dance last night. Why did you go?”
“Oh…I, uh, wasn’t feeling so good.”
“Are you okay?” I asked, concerned. It must be big. Oscar was the type of guy who was impervious to anything – cuts, bruises, and sickness. Almost invincible. Okay, maybe not invincible, but definitely not the type of guy who complained a lot. If he was mentioning it now, it must’ve been bad. “Do you need me to come over, and look after you? I could skip Art class…”
Secretly, I was quite glad to have an excuse to miss Art class. I couldn’t face Blane. Even though I’d just called him and everything, there was something about him that made me want to fall asleep for a long time.
“No, no! I couldn’t do that! I mean, you’re so busy, with your project and all…”
I bit my lip. He was right. I was meant to be busy.
“Okay, Oscar. But you better get yourself something good to eat, and stay in bed.”
“Will do.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
***
5.03PM, Saturday, Dec. 5th
1395 Lexington Avenue, New York
I rushed into the class. The teacher there gave me a dirty look as I settled into my seat next to Blane.
