Kass
“Yeah, being a one-L is definitely a challenge,” Mike told Kass. “It’s really true what they say. The first year of law school’s the toughest. My contracts professor is such a hard-ass, he makes people cry. In class. And not just the girls either.”
“That’s insane,” Kass said, taking a bite of her Yucatán veggie burger. It was Friday at lunchtime, and the outdoor café overlooking South Figueroa Street was packed with USC students. “So what kind of law are you interested in? Litigation? Tax law? That’s where all the money is, right?”
“Actually, I want to specialize in international human rights law. There’s a lot of bad stuff happening in the world, and I want to help. Money’s not a priority for me. I mean, sure, you gotta be able to pay the bills. But I don’t need to be a gazillionaire. It’s more important for me to give back, make a contribution.”
“Really?”
Kass regarded Mike with interest. She had met him through Lovematch.com, the online dating site her crazy sister had convinced her to try, and this was their first date.
So far, so good. Mike was cute (except for the weird mole on his chin, but who was she to be picky?) and supersmart. And he wanted to do human rights work.
In any case, he was certainly better than the other four guys she’d met up with through Lovematch. The first one couldn’t stop talking about his ex-girlfriend. The second one wanted to know if Kass could help him score some Vicodin. The third one was married and only interested in NSA (i.e., no-strings-attached). The fourth one explained that he lived with his mother and that the two of them were kind of a package deal (which was way too Psycho/Norman Bates for Kass’s taste).
Mike glanced at his watch and signaled the waitress for a check. “I have to run. I’ve got torts at one-thirty, and the professor is not cool about lateness. So can we do this again? I had a great time.”
“Definitely,” Kass said, meaning it.
Mike leaned forward and squeezed her hand. “Listen. I like you, and I feel like we have a connection. So before we go out again, there’s something I want to tell you about me. Something important.”
“Um, sure.” Kass wondered what the big secret was. Maybe he was a celebuspawn? Or a closet Republican? As long as he wasn’t married, or addicted to pain meds, or . . .
“There’s a side of my personality that not many people know about,” Mike went on. “I like to wear women’s underwear. In fact, I’m wearing some right now. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not gay. I’m not even bi. My therapist says it’s a very normal expression of my inner femininity. I hope you’re cool with that.”
It took Kass all of her self-control not to start swearing . . . or cracking up . . . or both. “I’m really happy for you that you’re into your, uh, inner femininity,” she managed to say after a moment. “It’s, uh, kind of a lot for me to digest right now. Can I think about it and call you?” Which really meant, Can I not think about it and not call you?
“Yeah, of course!” Mike handed the waitress some money and stood up. “Maybe we can go shopping together at Victoria’s Secret sometime! Just kidding!”
“Ha-ha, funny!”
After Mike left, Kass finished off her iced tea and stared moodily at the streetscape, the cars, the people passing by. A guy and a girl had stopped on the sidewalk and were kissing passionately. Ugh. Why was everyone in the world in love except for her?
Kass thought about what just happened with Mike. She would have been even more shocked by his revelation, except that her other Lovematch dates had been disasters, too. Was she ever going to meet Mr. Right? Mike had come so close to being second-date material, only to pull his deep, dark, deal-killer secret out of a hat. Did all guys have deep, dark secrets? Were there any nice, normal guys out there?
She reached into her purse for her car keys and was about to get up when she spotted a familiar face across the crowded café patio. Eduardo from her econ class. He was sitting at a table with a girl—no, now he was alone, because the girl was looking kind of pissed off and leaving. Was she his girlfriend? Were they having a fight?
Since the beginning of the semester, when Kass had first met Eduardo, she had seen him in class and had several friendly conversations with him about economic stimulus packages and such. He hadn’t repeated his original coffee invitation, though. Kass wondered if he was waiting for her to ask him out for coffee. Or maybe he just wasn’t interested anymore—especially if he had a girlfriend.
Eduardo glanced up and noticed Kass watching him. She averted her gaze and pretended to be very busy counting the keys on her key chain. Crap, he thinks I’m stalking him, she thought.
“Hey!” Eduardo waved and walked up to her table, his backpack slung over one shoulder. He sat down in the chair where Mike had been just a minute ago, in his pink satin G-string or whatever. “How’s it going? Did you just get here, or are you on your way out?”
“On my way out. How are you?”
“Good! Well, except for my psycho lunch date.”
“Aw, I’m sorry. Girlfriend problems?”
“Girlfriend? No way. She’s . . . well, I met her through this dating website. Turns out she’s got issues. She got mad at me because I wouldn’t meet her psychic to make sure we were meant to be together.”
“Seriously?” Kass giggled. “That’s so funny, because I just had a bad date, too. With a guy I met through Lovematch.com. He’s into—well, never mind. You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”
“Try me.”
Kass told him. Eduardo raised his eyebrows. “Huh. Well, at least he was honest about it.”
“I guess? I’m beginning to think online dating is a big, fat waste of time.”
“Yeah, I’m with you there. I think I’d rather hang out with friends.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
They sat in silence for a moment. Kass gazed at Eduardo. He was so cute. And he seemed like a great guy. What would it hurt for her to ask him out? As friends?
Kass picked up her napkin and folded it into quarters. Then eighths. “So, speaking of hanging out . . . have you seen the new Woody Allen movie?” she said casually.
“No! I’ve been wanting to check that out.”
“Me, too! So do you want to . . . I mean, are you free, like . . . I don’t know, maybe this weekend?”
“I’m actually going out of town. My cousin’s getting married in Palo Alto. But I’ll be back Sunday night. How about then?”
“Sunday night’s perfect. As long as it’s late-ish, like eight or nine?”
“Late-ish is good. It’s a date, then.”
“As friends,” Kass said with a smile.
“As friends.” Eduardo smiled back.
When Kass left the café a few minutes later, she was still smiling. Why was she in such a good mood all of a sudden?