Getting Back at Tyler Wilson

Game on [Part 2]

Lynn pretended to do the same, but her mind was actually wondering to night he took her to see the location of the art show. He had sounded as though he had really tried to convince the guy to use someplace more popular, but by his expression now, it didn’t seem as if it all mattered to him as much. Just who really was this guy; the jerk from high school, or the nice, good-doer who teaches football?

This was getting too personal for her taste. Time to move things to neutral grounds, Lynn thought with a mental shake. “How did you meet this artist? Did you find him on the corner of the street or did he contact you?”

“I’ve actually known him for ages and I’ve been pestering him to let me represent him in the art field, and he’s finally come around.”

“So he’s in it for the expression, not the fame,” Lynn confirmed.

“I think so,” Tyler threaded with a smile.

The waiter came back and took their orders just then. She was beating around her mind as to what to ask next- and coming up blank! There was a brief silence after the waiter had left again that Lynn hoped (prayed!) he didn’t ask-

“What about you Lynn Parker, what’s your story?”

That! Lynn could have groaned out loud. My Story? MY STORY?! Well let’s see: I’ve been in love with you my whole high school life and then you humiliated me in the worst possible way by turning out to be just like your snow bitch of a girlfriend... I then vowed never to return to our hometown due to said humiliation, causing me to only see my parents when they come visit. Oh and all through college and most of my adult life I’ve been wary of men and relationships because I’m afraid I’d get hurt! Did I mention I hate your guts?

Lynn couldn’t say that! That would make her whole plan fall through, and all she had right now was her plan.

“My story,” she stalled, “Well it’s pretty simple. I was born under the sign of Cancer, and I love to work on talk shows to help promote recluse artists who want to express themselves just for the wonderful sake of art appreciation.”

This earned a laugh from Tyler; which in turn, brought about a chuckle from Lynn who was forced into chuckling by his light laughter. He had a beautiful laugh.

Hold on! Stop the presses! He had a beautiful laugh! What on earth? Lynn pulled herself up by her boot straps and smelled the red wine! Tyler Wilson does NOT have a beautiful anything.

But the way his eyes lit up, and the cute little crinkles by his eyes looked so- Pull yourself together! Lynn had to regain her thoughts, or she’d be in major, monumental trouble.

“You’re cute.”

Lynn feared she may have said that, but she realised that it was Tyler who spoke.

“I try my best,” Lynn smiled.

“I can see that,” Tyler responded, then floored her (again!) with: “So where did you grow up? Here, or did you move here?”

“Umm, I-I-I moved here after high school, and lived here ever since.” Lynn prayed he didn’t push for an actual name of where she grew up.

But either God was busy, or He was trying to get back at her for some unknown reason because Tyler did ask where she moved from, or rather where she went to high school.

Her heart was beating like a jackhammer; her palms sweaty. Think. Think!

“My grandparents owned a bait shop near the bay of Soule; I practically lived there,” Lynn ventured. Which was technically true, she did spend most of her summers there, especially that last horrible summer.

“No kidding? I grew up near Soule, not too far away actually.”

She smiled; happy he interpreted her misguidance as where she lived. “Really?”

“Really,” he confirmed, “maybe about a couple of hours away.”

Two hours 20 minutes to be exact. But Lynn didn’t say anything.

“Yea, I left for college from there,” Lynn alluded. Again, not lying, since she did technically leave from her grandparents’ house to college.

And not wanting the conversation to remain in danger territories, Lynn steered it to a safer ground; a safer, far from high school topic.

And that’s where it remained for the rest of the evening: on neutral grounds- his favourite football team, their personal favourite movies, books and plays. Any and everything Lynn could think about that ventured away from talking about personal stuff like (gulp!) high school.

Pathetic mess she was, she already knew half the answers to the questions she asked him, from her almost stalker-ish ways from high school.

His favourite movie: Fight Club (Since High School!)

Favourite band: AC/DC (Since High School!)

Favourite food: Chilli Dogs (Since High School!)

Favourite colour, green; favourite sport, wrestling, favourite book, all James Patterson!

Like Lynn said, she knew all of this already. In her mind she already spoke the answer before he could respond. These were his same interests from high school. Ones she painstakingly sought to document in her memory throughout high school, like some love sick fool (which she was, but still). He was the reason she bought and read all of James Patterson’s books. The guy gave her nightmares with his Kiss the Girls and almost made her not want to go to college.

But did she stop reading his novels? No, of course not. Tyler Wilson loved his books, so in Lindsay Parker’s mind, since Tyler Wilson was God’s gift to women and all (and the way to impress a guy was to do things he liked) James Patterson was a must read.

She was such a loser in high school, Lynn mused with a pitiful smile she masked before Tyler looked at her again.

One thing was clear though, Tyler Wilson had not changed. If his interests hadn’t change, then his character hadn’t as well. He may have branched off and acquired new interests, but there still accompanied by his old ones.

Lynn had better remember that. And she told herself she will.

So later that night when he dropped her home, and gave her a small peck on her cheeks, she knew that the slight tingle that had infected her blood stream for that small moment was nothing. It was beyond nothing. It was nonexistent. Wasn't it?

Game on, Lynn Parker!