Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 2, 2011.
Chapter Nine: Meatloaf, Again?
"Aggie," Sarah moaned from where she sat in the middle of the room, "we're just going to the caff. You don't really have to do your hair, do you? I'm famished. Let's just go."
"Your being famished has little to do with me. It is your own fault for holing up in the Library all day. And yes, I really have to do my hair. One never knows when the man of one's dreams is going to walk in the room."
"Oh, please."
"Ok, fine. It's a stupid reason. But at least I don't wander around campus day in and day out looking a fright like some people who happen to be sitting in the middle of my room. When was the last time you looked in the mirror, Williams?"
"This morning, why?"
Agnes snorted. "Have a peek." She tossed a hand mirror to Sarah who caught it gingerly.
As Sarah looked at her frazzled reflection, she realized her thoughts at the moment were quite irrational: He saw you looking like this?
"Hey, what's up? I'm only teasing. You look like you just swallowed a goose egg whole or something."
Sarah shook her head. "It's nothing. Are you ready now?"
"Yep, let's jet." The pair jogged to the campus dining hall and, grabbing trays, high tailed to the counter.
"Pushing things a bit, aren't we ladies?" Andy, the Marriott rep for their school, was standing at the cash register. "Five more minutes and the food would have been cleared."
"What can I say? Perfect timing is a gift of mine," Agnes quipped.
"Or a curse." Sarah poked at the dish with the serving spoon. "If we were late, we would have had to fend for ourselves instead. Hey Andy, don't you guys ever vary the menu? We have meatloaf every Saturday."
"Assuming it's actually meat," Agnes muttered.
"I heard that. And if you want a menu change-"
"Fill out a comment card." The girls finished for him. They piled their trays with what was left of the food, opting for large salads rather than the slightly dried meatloaf, as well as a stack of lemon bars each. Swiping their cards, they went for a table in the corner.
There were still a number of people still lingering in the dining hall. The captain of the football team, who happened to also be president of the chess club, was playing chess with the Dean of English. His teammates were sitting around them trying to figure out how their brawny friend managed to be a jock and a nerd at the same time. Some freshmen were in another corner building meatloaf sculptures. Some upper classmen watched them with glazed expressions, their stacks of books indicating they had come to study but were either easily distracted or brain dead from all the school work. Sarah and Agnes ignored the lot and tucked in.
At least, Agnes tucked in. Gnawing on a carrot stick, she watched Sarah stab a cucumber and bring it to her mouth four times without actually taking a bite. "Alright, Williams. Spill it."
Startled, Sarah dropped her fork. "What?"
"Don't you 'what' me. You burst into my room, completely agitated and rearing to go eat because you are 'famished'. Now we are here and have what passes for food at this place and you're not eating. Then there was that thing with the mirror. What gives? ... You didn't run into Sammuel again did you?"
"He asked me to dinner," she said distractedly, having gone back to stabbing her vegetables.
This time, Agnes dropped her fork. "He did what? Hassling you again, eh? When is that nitwit going to learn? Someone has to pound his head into the pavement." She glanced over at the chess match. "Edmund would do it. He owes me a favor."
"You can't have him pound into the pavement." Sarah looked at her best friend as though she had lost her mind. "And he isn't hassling me. He just asked me to dinner, that's all. It isn't like it means anything. It's just dinner."
"Just dinner? Just dinner? It's never just anything with Sammuel, Sarah. Just you watch. Do you want me to go talk to Edmund now, or wait until later?"
Sarah looked at her friend blankly. She never called her by her first name unless she was either really excited or agitated. "Who said anything about Sammuel?"
"You did."
"No I didn't."
"Yes, you did."
"No I - Fine, when?"
"Just now. I asked you if you ran into Sammuel and you said he asked you to dinner."
"Oh, I didn't hear that. I started thinking about your other question first."
"You really need a break from all that studying." Agnes shook her head. "Alright then if it wasn't Sammuel, who was it?"
"Jareth."
"And that name is supposed to mean something to me because why?"
"He was the Mystery Man who sent me all those flowers."
"You met him?" Agnes shouted, standing so fast her chair fell over. Silence fell over the dining hall as all eyes looked in their direction. Agnes looked back at them. "Go back to your business people, nothing to see." There were mutterings of 'drama students' around the room, but everyone turned away. With great dignity, Agnes picked up her chair and sat down again. After a pause, she grabbed the edge of the table and leaned forward. "You met him?" she hissed. "And you waited until I had to drag it out of you to tell me? Geez, Sarah, I'm supposed to be your best friend."
"You are. I just wasn't sure how to bring it up."
Agnes rolled her eyes. "That's a lame excuse. You could have tried bursting in my room with 'You will NEVER guess who I just met' instead of 'I'm famished. Let's go to the caff'." She leaned back in her chair and bit a celery stick in half before glaring at it. "Why does celery have no flavor?"
"Because it is made mostly of water and you burn more calories eating it than it contains. Have some of my peanut butter."
"Good call. Thanks. So, what does he look like?"
"Who?"
"Who, she asks. Your Mystery Man. This Jareth, if that's even his real name. Maybe I'll have Edmund follow you two when you go out. Though he'd rather pound Sammuel's head in, I'm sure. There's been bad blood between them for awhile."
Sarah giggled. "Edmund does not need to follow me, nor does he need to pound someone's head in on my behalf. And Jareth is his real name."
"If you say so. But what does he look like?"
"He looks... Huh, he looks the same as I remember him. Well, except for the fact he was wearing jeans."
"As you remember him?" Agnes sat bolt upright. "You met him before?"
"Well, yeah. But it was ages ago, when I was fourteen or so. But I hadn't seen him in years. I certainly never would have expected him to be sending me flowers."
"He knew you when you were fourteen, haven't seen him in years, and suddenly out of the blue he's your, what was it, 'most devoted admirer'? Sounds a bit weird, if you ask me."
"I guess so... But at the same time it isn't at all." She shrugged. "I can't really explain it."
"Alright, I'll let it slide until I meet him and give him the once over. But if I hear one word of kinkiness, I'm letting Edmund loose, deal?"
Sarah laughed. "Do I get a choice? It's a deal, but only because you're my best friend."
"Whatever it takes. But enough with the protective paranoia. What exactly happened?" This time, both of them tucked into their salad and lemon bars as Sarah explained of her meeting Jareth at the Library and the ensuing conversation. She left out nothing, except the details referring to her trip through the Labyrinth.
Afterward, they walked back to the dorms together. Agnes sighed. "'I have come to ask if you would do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner'. He actually said that?"
"Yep."
"And he has a British accent?"
"Yep." Even though there is no reason for him to have one, considering his origin.
"And you actually questioned why he asked you?"
"Yep."
"And he said that you're the one he wants to be with?"
"Yep."
"Sounds serious, if he wants to 'be' with you."
"What's serious about wanting to be with me for dinner?"
Agnes rolled her eyes. Her friend was missing the obvious signs. Fine, if she wants to play it that way. "Nothing, I guess." Then she sighed again. "But he doesn't have a car."
"Nope."
"And that doesn't bother you."
"Nope. Should it?"
"No, probably not. But he's taking you to Clancy's?"
"Yep."
Agnes whistled. "Good choice for a first date."
"What do you mean 'first'?"
"Do you seriously think he's just aiming for one date?"
"There's no telling that it'll work out. It isn't that big of a deal. I'm sure he just wants to talk, catch up on things and stuff."
"Yeah, right, Williams. No one sends a girl twelve live bouquets and one of glowing crystal roses just to 'catch up on stuff'."
Sarah looked at Agnes for a minute, concerned, then shook her head. "No, Aggie. I'm sure you're wrong. It's just dinner."
"Alright, alright. I'll stop giving you a hard time for now. However, I will say this. I still think the whole fourteen then nine years of absence then Mystery Man thing is a bit weird. But he sounds too incredible to let that get in the way."
"Yeah," Sarah said noncommittally. It's the too incredible part that I'm worried about.
If Agnes noticed Sarah's lack of enthusiasm, she did not comment on it. By this time, they had reached the dorms, gone up the stairs, and were standing on Agnes' floor. "Well, I'm bushed. You're brain dead. I'll see you tomorrow. Wake me up for breakfast, yeah?"
"Sure thing. Bright and early at 8am."
"If you knock on my door before 10:27 I will throw you out the window."
Sarah laughed. "Well, as long as you don't have Edmund pound my head in, that's fine. See you in the morning, Aggie," she said as she ran up the next flight to her own floor.
