NOT SO RAD, BRAD
Brad Fessenden III looked into Lindsay Peterson's eyes. He wasn't sure what was on her mind. Besides the fact that Bradley, Sr. was a partner in Lindsay's dad's firm, and that they were planning to take in young Brad as an associate when he finished law school.
Damn it, Lindsay was supposed to be part of the REWARD!
Brad was handsome, witty, and had broken a few hearts…why couldn't this beautiful blonde girl love him? They were MADE for each other.
He watched Lindsay sip her chai tea latte. What could he do? He'd looked at her paintings (Brad preferred a nice Leroy Neiman print) taken her to the ballet (women liked that) and generally tried to be a sensitive guy. "It takes time" Lindsay's father had said to Brad over tee-time yesterday. "Her mother was moody."
But she's dumping me because she wants to hang out with a college CAFETERIA WORKER?
As if reading his thoughts, Lindsay's fabulously full lips finally moved. "I feel a connection with Consuela, Bradley. Men, just…there's nothing there. I went to the therapist Mother advised, but in fact there's nothing there. " Lindsay paused.
"The shrink actually said 'If you've only tried vanilla, how do you know you won't like strawberry?' Well, I tried strawberry, Brad…we had a tumble in the sheets. I don't want to, anymore."
Brad smiled. "Lindsay, it takes time for a woman to reach orgasm. My Aunt Buffy didn't have one until she was forty-two…"
"But I've had orgasms, Brad. Tons of them." Lindsay smiled, looking over at a shy Mexican girl who was carrying trays. (Lindsay insisted on eating here) "Many, many, glorious orgasms. I know what I want."
"What…what will I tell your dad?" This was a last resort, but Brad had discovered in early childhood that tattling had its rewards.
"I don't know that it's any of his business, Bradley." Lindsay paused. "Even if he cut me off financially, I'm in my final semester, and have a small trust fund from Grammy, who loved me as I was, you know."
Brad shook his head. "I don't think it's got anything to do with the spic girl. I think it's him!" Brad pointed at a sullen looking tousle haired boy lounging by the Four Food Groups poster.
Lindsay's eyes brightened. "Oh, Brian!"
PLASTIC POTATOES AND ALL THAT
Brian had never seen so much of the damn cafeteria as he had since Linz had began stalking Consuela. They had to drop by, sit around pretending to study…and then Lindsay closed the deal, she and Connie were dating, and they STILL had to hang out here.
Brian was almost sure the food would kill him. The Salisbury steak resembled one of those slates that children in Puritan times scribbled on in the one-room schoolhouse.
Brian looked around the cafeteria. Oh yes, Chaplain Tunstall. Earnestly talking to some freshman Campus Crusade for Christ geek, hoping to get in his pants. Brian saw Tunny regularly at the Liberty Baths and was amazed at the clergyman's energy.
Reverend Tunstall, man of mystery. Constantly calling press conferences to "bring back moral values to our beloved university". squirting vats of ketchup on girls doing the Walk of Shame into the campus Planned Parenthood clinic, and yet, sucking every cock in sight.
Good God, there's Lindsay, sitting with a pudgy, balding prep, who looks like a calf about to be slaughtered. Fuck no, she's seen me. Waving at me. I don't want to come over there, Linz. I know what straight boys are like. Why would I want to—But of course, I must come over.
The only woman in the world with the power to tell Brian Kinney what to do, and she's a goddamn dictator with it. But Brian walked across the cigarette butt stained cafeteria, smirking at Tunstall and his zit-faced protégé, and finally arrived at Lindsay's table.
"Brian, this is Brad." Linz said brightly. Brad stood and offered a firm right hand, and Brian, after rolling his eyes theatrically, shook it.
"I am Lindsay's boyfriend, I've been eager to meet her other buddies. I go to Penn." Brad said all this as if it were a prepared speech on a 3X5 striped card.
Jesus, if she were straight, would this be the one to choose? He'd be laughed out of Babylon's Back Room, or chased with a can of Raid. "So nice to meet you, Brad. I've long been wanting to meet the guy who rings Lindsay's chimes."
Brian smiled as Linz's lovely face became enraged. Yes, we'll torture you a little bit. You didn't want to come as a date to my cousin's wedding because you thought I should be "out" and now…
"BRIAN! LINDSAY!" The shriek was heard across the cafeteria. The epicene Emmett Honeycutt followed by a large person in a black wig and a polka dotted dress that might have been fashionable in 1964, ran into the James Mellon Memorial Cafeteria.
"Emmett, what brings you to the hallowed halls of academe?" Brian asked with a smile. "Love the fuschia scarf."
Lindsay rose from the table and embraced Emmett. "You are really adjusting to the new town, honey!"
"Yes." Emmett said breathlessly. "This is my friend Godiva." Emmett nodded to the giant in the polka dot frock.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Lindsay said, remembering her manners. "This is Bradley Fessenden the Third."
"Oooh." Godiva said, with a frightening grin. "I believe I know your Uncle Wilbur. He used to blow me in his box at the Civic Lights Opera, that is, until Bradley the First had him committed to Somerset State."
"Grandfather…is…very old fashioned." Brad said, staring at Godiva warily.
"Linz, I've GOT to borrow the Dramatic Society's whalebone corset." Emmett said. "You did say that you'd owe me for helping with the costumes?"
"But of course, Emmett!" Lindsay said cheerily. "What do you need it for?"
"Godiva is in the running to be Miss Shemale America!"
As Bradley Fessenden III hurriedly exited the James Mellon Memorial Cafeteria, he decided that perhaps he would indeed present the diamond ring to the blue-haired waitress he'd been shtupping in Bruceton, but not before he found Lindsay's dad on the course and brained him with a nine iron.
