an idiot. Dixon probably doesn’t even think of me like that. I mean, look at him, and look at me,” I say, doing a sweep down my body.
“No, he’s the idiot. We’re going out,” Mary angrily states.
She jumps up from my bed, storming over to my closet and rummaging through my garments.
“I don’t want to go out.” The thought of socializing with anyone sounds like a horrible idea.
“This isn’t optional,” Mary barks, her head buried in my closet.
“Lamb,” I warn, but Mary turns her head, pinning me with a look that screams finality.
“Fine,” I huff, throwing my hands in the air, as there really isn’t any point arguing with her.
“You won’t regret it,” she says with a crooked smile.
Famous last words.
----
S o when Mary said we were going out, I thought we were going out for pizza, or to a movie. I didn’t realize she meant out, out.
I’m sitting at a table which overlooks a huge dance floor, completely and utterly out of my comfort zone. I watch as Mary bumps and grinds against some pierced rock god without a care in the world. She recently broke up with her high school sweetheart, Corey, and I know under her tough exterior, she’s hurting.
The man she trusted, the man she gave her virginity to, turned out to be a lying, cheating jerk wad, so I really don’t blame her for being so bitter. But I like to believe that not all guys think with their dicks.
I mean, yes, Dixon is an ass for totally bailing on me, but not once did I ever feel objectified when in his presence, nor did I ever feel like he was talking to me because he wanted to get into my pants. I actually felt like we had a genuine connection, and that maybe he was different than all the other guys I’ve met.
But I guess I was wrong.
Reaching for my tequila, I decide to drown my sorrows in this sunrise, as I don’t have class till late tomorrow afternoon.
Just as I begin to feel a buzz, the barstool next to me scrapes along the floor and I turn to look at who has stolen Mary’s seat.
“Hey, is anyone sitting here?” asks the hot, green-eyed stranger beside me.
I nod with a smile. “Actually, yes, there is. You see that crazy redhead on the dance floor?” I point to my best friend, who is currently surrounded by a group of eager suitors.
The hottie next to me nods as he narrows his eyes, looking Mary’s way.
“Well, that’s who was sitting here,” I conclude with a grin.
My stranger gives me a dimpled smile, and leans closer to yell into my ear, as the music is blaring over the speakers. “I don’t think she’ll be back anytime soon,” he replies, and I laugh because I think he just may be right.
I don’t know if it’s the alcohol, or the fact I feel a little rejected by Dixon’s “raincheck,” but whatever it is, I extend my hand and smile.
“Hi, I’m Madison.”
“Hi, I’m David,” my stranger says, and I try not cringe at the fact his name reminds me of another name which starts with D.
“Nice to meet you, David,” I say, quickly recovering from my Dixon depression.
“You too. Can I buy you a drink?” David asks, his long bangs falling into his eyes.
I chug down the rest of my tequila, and smile. “Sure.”
David laughs and I instantly feel at ease with him.
“I’ll be right back,” he says, and I watch as he makes his way through the crowd, impressed with what I see.
Maybe there’s hope for me yet. I mean, everything happens for a reason. Maybe I just haven’t figured out what my reason for meeting Dixon is.
Act II
Two and a half months later…
12
Apple Pie
DIXON
“ I s the garlic minced or chopped?” I mumble to myself as I flip through this wretched cookbook, trying to find the recipe for the confit of salmon with crab crush and dill drizzle.
How can one’s life change in the blink of an eye?
In one moment, Juliet was my fuck buddy, and in the next, she’s my…snuggle buddy?
I really don’t know what to call Juliet, as she’s not really my girlfriend,
“No, he’s the idiot. We’re going out,” Mary angrily states.
She jumps up from my bed, storming over to my closet and rummaging through my garments.
“I don’t want to go out.” The thought of socializing with anyone sounds like a horrible idea.
“This isn’t optional,” Mary barks, her head buried in my closet.
“Lamb,” I warn, but Mary turns her head, pinning me with a look that screams finality.
“Fine,” I huff, throwing my hands in the air, as there really isn’t any point arguing with her.
“You won’t regret it,” she says with a crooked smile.
Famous last words.
----
S o when Mary said we were going out, I thought we were going out for pizza, or to a movie. I didn’t realize she meant out, out.
I’m sitting at a table which overlooks a huge dance floor, completely and utterly out of my comfort zone. I watch as Mary bumps and grinds against some pierced rock god without a care in the world. She recently broke up with her high school sweetheart, Corey, and I know under her tough exterior, she’s hurting.
The man she trusted, the man she gave her virginity to, turned out to be a lying, cheating jerk wad, so I really don’t blame her for being so bitter. But I like to believe that not all guys think with their dicks.
I mean, yes, Dixon is an ass for totally bailing on me, but not once did I ever feel objectified when in his presence, nor did I ever feel like he was talking to me because he wanted to get into my pants. I actually felt like we had a genuine connection, and that maybe he was different than all the other guys I’ve met.
But I guess I was wrong.
Reaching for my tequila, I decide to drown my sorrows in this sunrise, as I don’t have class till late tomorrow afternoon.
Just as I begin to feel a buzz, the barstool next to me scrapes along the floor and I turn to look at who has stolen Mary’s seat.
“Hey, is anyone sitting here?” asks the hot, green-eyed stranger beside me.
I nod with a smile. “Actually, yes, there is. You see that crazy redhead on the dance floor?” I point to my best friend, who is currently surrounded by a group of eager suitors.
The hottie next to me nods as he narrows his eyes, looking Mary’s way.
“Well, that’s who was sitting here,” I conclude with a grin.
My stranger gives me a dimpled smile, and leans closer to yell into my ear, as the music is blaring over the speakers. “I don’t think she’ll be back anytime soon,” he replies, and I laugh because I think he just may be right.
I don’t know if it’s the alcohol, or the fact I feel a little rejected by Dixon’s “raincheck,” but whatever it is, I extend my hand and smile.
“Hi, I’m Madison.”
“Hi, I’m David,” my stranger says, and I try not cringe at the fact his name reminds me of another name which starts with D.
“Nice to meet you, David,” I say, quickly recovering from my Dixon depression.
“You too. Can I buy you a drink?” David asks, his long bangs falling into his eyes.
I chug down the rest of my tequila, and smile. “Sure.”
David laughs and I instantly feel at ease with him.
“I’ll be right back,” he says, and I watch as he makes his way through the crowd, impressed with what I see.
Maybe there’s hope for me yet. I mean, everything happens for a reason. Maybe I just haven’t figured out what my reason for meeting Dixon is.
Act II
Two and a half months later…
12
Apple Pie
DIXON
“ I s the garlic minced or chopped?” I mumble to myself as I flip through this wretched cookbook, trying to find the recipe for the confit of salmon with crab crush and dill drizzle.
How can one’s life change in the blink of an eye?
In one moment, Juliet was my fuck buddy, and in the next, she’s my…snuggle buddy?
I really don’t know what to call Juliet, as she’s not really my girlfriend,
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