Susan's Choice

Susan

No, of course not. He knew better than to listen to auditory hallucinations. They had been cropping up more frequently in the last few weeks. He should see a professional about that. His medical training demanded it. But of course he wouldn't. What could he say, 'hey doc, I hear my ex-girlfriend talking to me all the time. We broke up 10 years ago but I think of her every day. Hell, every five minutes. Am I crazy, or what?'

'Nope, you're not crazy, just a total loser is all,' said the shrink. 

He already knew that. The hell with the shrink. But what to do with the pain, that seemed to get worse every day. And the passage of time, the fading interest in the eyes of countless extremely datable women he'd discouraged over the years. Would he be alone forever?

He had met her in the first-year English class required of all premed students. It had taken him a while to find the lecture hall in an unfamiliar part of the campus so when he arrived it had been half full of students, all fussing and talking and braying greetings to each other. Most untidy. These people were not members of his quiet, disciplined tribe. He prowled the seats and chose one near the back row where he could glower down upon them and folded himself into it. And then he sat, notebook open, pen in hand, eyes front, waiting silently.

Someone scuttling behind him. Another student? He turned to look and caught his first glimpse of a tall girl who would change his life. She possessed the generic beauty common to young women everywhere. Regular features, a healthy glow and a waist-to-hip ratio of about 0.7, the optimum value of female attractiveness in late 20th century western society as determined by numerous independent psychological surveys. She caught him looking and shot him right between the eyes with the deadliest weapon in the known universe: a smile.

David knew it was a mistake. He had been fooled by beautiful girls before. They seemed to look right at him but were really smiling at somebody behind. Caught in the crossfire he stared coldly back, then turned around to find the intended recipient. But there was no one. He focused forward again looking at the blackboard while he tried to make sense of this anomaly.

Then he heard her fussing in her seat and surmised that she had already changed her mind and was about to move towards the front of the hall where she could sit with her friends and regale them with the tale of how she'd smiled at this pimple-faced loser entirely by mistake and now he would haunt her for days. And then he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"You wouldn't have an extra pen, would you?"

She had the most beautiful eyes. For a moment he was mute. Then she smiled again.

"I'd forget my head if it wasn't screwed on."

"Oh! Sure," he said, handing her the pen he'd been using.

"Thanks!" she whispered and retreated to her seat.

And then Dave realized he'd just given away the only pen he had. He couldn't even take notes.

He thought about leaving but sat alone instead, miserable, confounded and unable to tear himself away from such beauty.

She surprised him again as the lecture hall emptied, grabbing his arm and handing his pen back.

"Thanks! You're a lifesaver! But I didn't see you writing anything down." She nudged him playfully. "I didn't take your only pen did I?"

"Umm, yeah, I guess you did. I didn't realize it until you'd left. Sorry..."

"Whaddyamean sorry? Please, at least let me buy you a coffee. You can copy my notes." She led him on, one slender hand on his upper arm. He flexed the muscles therein, trying to enlarge them without being too obvious. She pressed closer to him and he thought he detected a soft breast just above her fingers. They arrived. She led him to the buffet section and put a tray on the metal rails that led along the track to the cashier.

"What kind of coffee?"

"Oh, just a regular, I guess." He rubbed his arm, savouring her strong grip and the breast — the alleged breast, he cautioned — above. He hadn't been touched on purpose by anyone in a very long time.

She grabbed two ceramic cups and added cream, sugar and coffee to one of them, then looked up at him with raised eyebrows. He studied her face. Brilliant blue eyes, perky nose, full red lips and perfect teeth all framed by a tangle of tawny hair drawn into a scraggly bun at the top of her head. He wondered if he'd seen her on a poster for women's beauty products. She could make money with a face like that, he thought, and considered telling her that, but thought better of it. The impish grin she'd fixed him with had diminished and she looked confused. "Sugar? cream?" Oh, of course! That's why she was smiling at him.

"Umm, yeah ... me too. Thanks. Umm... sorry," he stuttered.

Long, eye-rolling sigh: "enough with that 'sorry' bit, buddy!"

Buddy? He savoured the words.

She threaded her way between tables crowded with students. He walked behind her, a shy but experienced connoisseur of female derrières. She swayed as she walked, as if she held a baby in her arms. In his mind he stripped her naked and replaced the cafeteria with a tropical beach.

She turned back to him displaying bare breasts and handed him the baby before plunging into the jungle.

She selected a table, not quite so crowded as the others, and they picked chairs near the middle, across from each other. She settled into hers like it was The Chair of Saint Peter and blessed him with another smile.

He risked a tight-lipped smirk in return, trying to conceal his yellowing teeth.

"Hey! Susie!" called a beautiful mop-haired boy with the broad shoulders and healthy glow of an athlete. "I found that book you were talking about. You know the one about —"

"Not now, Todd. Sorry."

She beamed her lustrous eyes on Dave again. "What do you think? Can you read my writing?" He tore his eyes away and rummaged through her loose leaf binder looking for her notes.

"Right here," she said, her fingers brushing his. "There's a lot. Maybe we should take our coffees to the library."