The next week was a killer with all the new assignments we got after last week’s mid-terms. Algebra class was eating my lunch, so to speak, so I figured I’d better do some studying between classes on Monday.
I had an eight o’clock morning class on Mondays, but my second class that started at nine-thirty ended up being cancelled that day. I decided to sit and study at a table in the Student Central Building near the food courts to fill the time.
By about eleven o’clock, I got a text from Jonas saying a bunch of them were meeting up at Chik Fil A for lunch if I wanted to join, so I grabbed my notebooks in a rush and headed for the campus shuttle stop.
After meeting up for lunch, I grabbed my book bag and started heading toward the Science building for my Biology class when I realized my bag felt a little too light to be carrying that monster of a book. I opened my bag, and sure enough, no Biology book.
I thought back to where I could have left it and realized I had set it in the chair next to mine at the table I had studied at earlier in the Student Central Building.
I changed directions and hurried back over to see if my book was still where I had left it. As I approached the table where I’d been sitting, I noticed none other than the blue-eyed girl from the Book Shelf the other night with my Biology book in her hands. She had the front cover opened as though she were looking for a name of whom the book might belong to.
“There it is! Sorry, I left my Bio book sitting here earlier. I thought I’d lost it,” I said, halfway in relief and halfway barely believing my luck. I could feel the spike of adrenaline rush through my blood stream at the sight of her.
She looked up at me with those big blue eyes, and I couldn’t believe the coincidence that, after I had missed my chance to talk to her Saturday night, here she was, holding my Biology book, sitting right where I had sat just an hour earlier.
“Oh, yeah. I’m glad you found it, then.” She smiled a polite but understated smile and handed the book to me.
“Thanks,” I returned, smiling appreciatively.
“No problem,” she said, before turning her attention down to her sandwich.
Was she dismissing me? Did she know who I was? I thought maybe I should introduce myself. “I’m Dylan, by the way.”
She looked back up at me. “Uh, nice to meet you, Dylan. I’m Marzia,” she replied.
“Marzia. That’s an unusual name. I haven’t heard it before,” I told her, trying to draw her into some conversation.
“It’s Italian. Marzia Benagli. I really just go by Zia,” she explained.
“Well, Zia, it’s nice to meet you, too,” I told her.
“Thank you,” she returned.
And then, nothing.
I looked at her trying to decide whether I should keep talking or just leave her alone. Maybe I was interrupting something, or maybe she was waiting for someone.
All I knew for sure was that she didn’t seem like she was too interested in anything I had to say, since she was already looking down at her sandwich again.
This was awkward.
Deciding I wouldn’t make a fool of myself, I finally turned to leave as I told her, “Well, see you around. Thanks again for finding my book.”
I wasn’t used to this happening. Usually girls hung on to my every word. Confused, I wondered if maybe she thought I was someone else, or maybe even that she had heard some rumor about me from a scorned ex. I knew how girls could make guys out to be jerks when they’d been rejected by one of us.
What I did know was that I couldn’t just leave it at that. I would figure out a way to run into her again and ask her to hang out sometime. There was just something about this girl that made me want to know her. She was a mystery to be solved, and Dylan Porter was up for the challenge.
That evening, when practice finished, most of the guys were talking about heading over to Ethan’s place to hang out and drink some beer. I told them I’d swing by there after running home to change clothes.
On the walk toward my apartment from the campus bus stop, I walked down the sidewalk right across from the university. The various shops and restaurants were all busy with students who congregated in them, including the Daylee Grind, which was a little family-owned coffee shop.
The Daylee Grind seemed like a pretty chill place to do some studying, but I’d never personally been in there. Not that I couldn’t have used a little more studying from time to time.
As I walked by the front windows that spanned the entire store front, my eyes honed in on a petite figure with long, brown hair and big, blue eyes. She was sitting tucked away at a table right by the outer glass wall.
It was Zia. Now was my chance. I had to go in and talk to her.
I walked into the coffee shop and approached her table, waving to a couple of people I knew on the way. Zia seemed pretty engrossed in her studying and didn’t seem to notice me walk up.
“Zia?”
She looked up at me in surprise. “Hey… Dylan, right?”
“Hey, I thought that was you. I was just passing by the window and saw you. I just got out of practice,” I explained.
“Practice?” She looked puzzled.
“Yeah. I play in a soccer league. Didn’t you know?” I wasn’t used to people not knowing who I was around here. I wondered if maybe she had just moved here or something, which would explain why I’d never seen her around before.
“I guess not. Did you come here to study?” she asked as she looked at the book bag I was carrying across my shoulder.
“Well, not really, but it seems like a nice quiet place to get a little homework done. You mind if I join you? It doesn’t look like there are any more tables open,” I reached for the empty chair in front of her, but I didn’t want to assume she was okay with me just taking a seat, in case she really did have a boyfriend or something. If not, then she definitely had the playing-hard-to-get routine down.
“Sure, why not,” she responded as she glanced around the room. She seemed surprised at the crowd that had apparently accumulated while she hadn’t been paying attention.
I pulled out the chair and sat, sitting my book bag on the table in front of me and rummaging through it to see what homework I had brought home with me today. I brought my algebra homework out that I’d been studying earlier that day before lunch.
Once I got situated, I looked up and decided to see if a little small talk would bring this gorgeous girl out of her shell. “So what are you working on?” I asked her.
“Oh, I have a paper I’m working on for Social Psychology,” she answered. “You?”
“I have some algebra homework I need to do. You any good at math?” I joked with a smile.
“Eh, I get by. Probably not math tutor material, though,” she admitted as she cracked a smile of her own.
That seemed to be the ice breaker she needed, because the conversation flowed easily after that.
While we were sitting there talking together, several people came by to say hi to me here and there, and it eventually occurred to me that she might be worried about people seeing her here with me if she had a boyfriend. As pretty as she was, by this point I was convinced she must have one, but partly out of concern and partly out of curiosity, I asked her, “You don’t have a boyfriend who’s going to get pissed that I’m here hanging out with you, do you?”
“Um, no… It’s no big deal.” She paused for a short moment as though contemplating her next thought. “So what’s your story, anyway? I saw you the other night at the Book Shelf. You seem like you have quite a selection to choose from,” she jabbed playfully as she raised her eyebrows suggestively for emphasis.
I couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“Oh, yeah… that. Yeah, we won our soccer match last Saturday, so me and my buddies went up there to celebrate and have some drinks.” I hoped she couldn’t tell that her question had made me nervous, since she’d called me out on seeing all the girls who were talking to us that night.
“I see. I knew I didn’t remember seeing you there before,” she told me.
“If you saw us there, why didn’t you come up and say hi or something?” I asked her, recalling how I had hoped she would have done just that at the time.
“Oh, you looked like you had plenty of company to keep you occupied. Besides, I’m more of a keep-to-myself kind of person,” she said. This explained a lot to me, as I didn’t want to jump to the conclusion that she may have been a bit stuck-up. Turned out she was just shy.
“Hmm, that’s cool, I guess.” I wondered if there was a way to play this off so that it didn’t look like I was into all those girls we had been talking to that Saturday night prior. The truth was, I wasn’t, but it probably didn’t look that way.
She was quiet, and that made me even more nervous.
“It was mostly my buddies who were talking to all those girls. They usually drag me out with them so they can pick up chicks.” Okay, maybe no dragging was involved, but other than that it was true.
“Oh, it’s cool. I totally get it. Variety is the spice of life, right?” Zia laughed softly, but seemed a little more agitated than she was trying to let on as she tapped her pen against her notebook on the table.
Variety, I thought. If only. Maybe there was a variety of girls, but if you knew one, you knew them all.
“So they say,” I agreed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, seeming to understand there was more to the story, as she straightened in her chair and leaned in toward me. Touched by the sincerity that she actually wanted to know, I somehow felt the urge to confide in her.
“Nothing’s wrong. I mean, to be honest, I can have pretty much any girl I want, and I’ve dated quite a few girls since I started playing in the league here a couple years back.” Now that it was time to confide, I suddenly wasn’t sure it was the best idea.
“But?” she prodded. She wasn’t going to give up that easily.
Okay, what the hell, right?
“But I don’t know. They’re all the same. I just get tired of it after a while. Ya know?” I hoped none of these girls were sitting around me right then to hear me say that about them, even though it was the truth.
“I know what you mean,” she said. “But really, I have to be honest here. What did you expect?” She was suddenly turning it back on me.
Now I was intrigued. This girl was calling me out, challenging me. I straightened in my chair to mirror her in front of me. “What do you mean?” I asked.
“I mean, if you’re only looking for a certain type, then why do you expect them all to be any different from each other?” She leaned back and let that drive home.
Hmmm, I thought. She actually had a point. What was that saying about insanity? Doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results. If I wanted something different, I’d have to try something I’d never tried before.
Zia continued, “What kind of girl are you looking for, anyway?”
“I don’t know…” I did know, but how could I word this without sounding like a total ass? “Someone with a mind of her own. Someone who I know likes me for who I am and not because of who I am, I guess.”
I thought for a moment and continued. “And it wouldn’t hurt if she was attractive, of course,” I said as I diverted my gaze to the table. I couldn’t look her in the eye and say that for some reason, as her glaring beauty was staring back at me. Since when was I shy about talking to a gorgeous girl?
“Hmm…” she said, and it looked like the wheels were spinning inside that gorgeous head of hers.
I waited for her to continue, but finally urged, “What?”
“I’m just thinking. You seem like a nice guy, Dylan. I might be able to help you find the right kind of girl, if you wanted,” she offered.
“You mean set me up with someone? I don’t know,” I said, thinking to myself that there was just no way.
“No, I don’t mean set you up with anyone. Have you ever heard of the saying, ‘give a guy a fish and he’ll eat for a day, but teach a guy to fish and he’ll eat for life?’ Well, I mean that I can try to teach you how to fish,” she explained.
“I got ya. Okay, you have my attention,” I told her, but added, “So how is this going to work?”
“Well, we’d have to go out to some places where you can meet people, and I could help you figure out what to look for, what to stay away from, stuff like that,” she explained.
“I don’t know. How do I know that you’d even be able to really help?” I questioned skeptically.
“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” she answered matter-of-factly, as she started gathering her notebooks.
I felt a slight wave of panic, worried that she would leave and I would have no way to talk to her again. The prospect sounded great in theory, but what I was really interested in was getting to know her better. I wanted to figure this girl out.
I knew if I went along with this, it would buy me some time with her, and maybe even help me figure out how to win her over. What I didn’t want to do was waste her time if she really had no interest in me. What was the right thing to do? I needed more time to really think about it.
“How about I think about it and let you know?” I finally asked.
“No problem. That’s totally understandable,” she nodded in agreement.
“Okay, so I guess I need your number, then. You know… to let you know what I decide.” I took my cell phone out of my pocket and started a new phonebook entry to type in her number. I noticed I had twenty missed text messages from different guys on the team asking where I was since I hadn’t shown up to Ethan’s place as expected.
I couldn’t help but think what a change it was that I was asking someone else for their number for once instead of the other way around. It also didn’t escape my notice that she wasn’t asking for mine in return.
Zia gave me her number, and then we both packed up to leave, going our separate ways.
From the Daylee Grind, I walked the couple of blocks back to my apartment and took my truck straight over to Ethan’s place, since I had already spent so much time hanging out with Zia. I knew if I went inside my apartment at that point, I probably wouldn’t get back out, and I had already told them I’d come by. I didn’t want to disappoint, since I knew they were expecting me.
Ethan had a pretty nice place, a house that his parents had bought for him here in town while he was attending school here. Like me, Ethan came from a wealthy family, and it looked like they had paid an interior designer to decorate and a house maid to keep the place clean. Not a bad setup for Ethan and his two roommates.
It certainly served as a great party spot when the mood struck, which happened fairly often in this bunch. I could see the appeal, and while my apartment had a lot of nice, high-end furnishings of its own, I preferred the living alone aspect where I could come home and relax in peace and quiet when I wanted to.
When I walked in the door, I got a loud greeting from the crowd that had gathered in my absence, and Ethan handed me a glass of beer.
“Where have you been, man? We were beginning to think you got lost. Katy’s here and she’s been asking for you,” Ethan informed me.
Great. I should have known she’d be here. If she hadn’t invited herself, then Ethan would have invited her. Good ol’ Ethan, always thinking with the wrong head like any hot-blooded, college aged male.
Right on cue, Katy walked up to Ethan and me, moving to put her arms around my waist in greeting, but I artfully dodged and directed her attention to Ethan.
“Hey Katy, I was hoping you’d be here. You know Ethan, right?” I felt like Barney Stinson playing the ‘have you met Ted’ game from How I Met Your Mother.
“Not exactly,” Katy answered, turning to Ethan, who suddenly had a hell of a grin on his face.
“Ethan was just telling me how great he thought that shirt looks on you tonight,” I lied, and Ethan gave me a look that silently asked, “I did?”
“Aww, thank you, Ethan. You have a nice place,” Katy took the flattery bait and turned her attention to Ethan, as I left the two of them to get better acquainted with one another.
Katy was a nice girl, hot as hell, but she wanted a little more from me than I wanted to give her as far as a serious relationship went. She wanted one and I didn’t. Maybe I’d want one with the right girl, but not with Katy. I figured that she and Ethan ought to hit it off perfectly.
I maneuvered my way through the kitchen into the play room where Jonas was playing pool with Reginald, another guy from the team, and several others were milling around watching or socializing as they drank Ethan’s beer.
Reginald sunk the eight-ball and Jonas handed the pool cue over to another guy waiting to play. When Jonas saw me, he walked over and greeted me with a ritual handshake.
“Porter, it’s about time you show up. Where have you been, brother?” Jonas asked.
“I ran into a girl on the way home from practice and time got away from me. You know how it goes,” I told him as I shrugged with indifference.
“She hot?” Jonas asked.
“Gorgeous,” I admitted. “I can’t believe I haven’t seen this girl around before. You know Clara, right?” I asked Jonas.
“Kincade? Yeah, I know her,” Jonas smiled and nodded appreciatively in recognition.
“She and Clara were at the Book Shelf together Saturday night when we were there,” I told him. “Then I ran into her earlier today when I went back to find a book I had left in the Student Central Building. She had found it.”
“That’s cool. Are you going to see her again?” Jonas asked.
“If I can help it, I am,” I admitted. “I’m curious to see what she’s about.”
“Well, if it doesn’t work out, send her my way,” Jonas joked.
“We’ll see. Looks like I’m going to have to step up my game with this one. I don’t think she likes me yet. I’m going to have to work a little harder on this one,” I admitted as I sat down at a bar stool in the corner next to the wet bar in the game room.
“Say what? Why do you say that?” he asked me in disbelief, taking a seat on the stool two down from mine.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Getting her to talk to me in the first place was tough. I thought maybe she already had a boyfriend, but she said she doesn’t.”
I didn’t want to tell Jonas about the arrangement that Zia had offered me, to help me find the right girl. Jonas and I both knew I had no trouble getting girls, but telling him I wasn’t finding the right girls was a little too far on the female emotional side to talk about with one of the guys. He and I were close, but not that close.
“Wow, she’s taking you down a few notches. Maybe that’s just what you need, bro. You’ve had it too easy for far too long. It’ll do you some good to have to work for it.” Jonas teased. He meant everything he said, but was able to get it across in a way that gave me a hard time in good fun.
I still wasn’t sure about the offer she had made me, but I did know one thing. I had to see her again. That was all I needed to know before I decided to send her a text.
Me: Ok I’m in.
Zia: In where? Who is this?
Me: It’s Dylan. And I’m in. I’ll let you help me.
Me: If you still want to.
Zia: Ohhh. Ok :)
Me: So what now?
Zia: Now we go to bed and talk about it tomorrow.
Me: Ok sounds good. I’ll call you after practice.
Zia: Ok
Me: Goodnight
Zia: Goodnight
At that, I said my goodbyes and headed out to drive back to my apartment for the night.
I didn’t know what it was, but something in me couldn’t wait to talk to Zia the next day. Where would this thing take us, I wondered, and I couldn’t wait to find out.