Author's Note: My apologies for both the ridiculous delay in getting this chapter up, as well as how short it is. I've been fussing over this chapter (and the remainder of this story in general) for a month now, and honestly, I just can't quite get to where I want it to be. So...I'm going to post this short, uneventful little chapter as is, and cross my fingers that by doing so, the floodgates of creativity will somehow magically open up.
Two weeks after his birthday, Adam was sitting alone at his bedroom desk, chewing on an ink pen as he tried unsuccessfully to write his paper for English. It had taken nearly two months, but he had finally gotten to the point where he could do his algebra homework and make it through more than three pages of Wuthering Heights without forgetting what he'd just read. However, as he'd quickly been reminded, ability did not translate into desire, and his desire to solve for x and write about Heathcliff was as lacking as ever.
Making matters worse, it seemed that all of the elements of the universe had coalesced to make analyzing 19th century romantic literatureeven less interesting than usual. Outside, the birds were chirping, spring having finally arrived after months of snow and sleet. Thanks to Phillip's persuasiveness with school authorities and Adam's upstanding reputation amongst the teachers, homework was still being handled on the honor system. Though the examiner at the DMV had expressed reservations, he now had a driver's license that was begging to be used for something more interesting than just going to school. His social life still mostly consisted of listening to Crawford drone on about golf, the ice having never fully thawed between him and the rest of the Ducks. And, of course, without hockey, his life no longer held quite the direction it once did; the lack of any real goal or passion leaving him unmoored.
I'm pretty sure Goldman Sachs has never asked anyone to describe the symbolism of white curtains during a job interview…
Staring out the window at the blossoming dogwoods, he could hear the plastic casing of the pen cracking between his teeth. Suddenly, he was struck by an idea…the sort of idea more commonly associated with his older brother than the well-behaved former hockey star.
.
"Come on!" He pleaded, the cordless phone resting between his ear and shoulder as he twirled the cracked, tooth scarred pen with his fingers. "We have the rest of our lives to be responsible. Ten years from now, we'll be sitting in boring office towers, watching the clock tick by until we die. But for now? We might as well have a little fun."
"I'm pretty sure you'll going into the NHL, silly!"
About that….
"Well, regardless, if our parents are any indication, adulthood's not all that it's cracked up to be. But for now? The city is calling our names."
"Then we can answer the city on Saturday. It's not like it's going anywhere!"
Well, that makes one thing Minneapolis and I have in common.
"Come on! I have my dad's credit card, and I'm pretty sure I still owe you a meal at The Minnesota Club."
"Uh huh. Skipping school with your dad's credit card. That sounds like a great idea! I mean, he's always seemed like a really nice, easy going guy."
"Hey now!" He laughed, "If we were talking about something important like hockey practice, then yeah, that would definitely be a death wish. But school?"
"Besides," he added, "he won't find out."
"I think you've lost your mind!"
"So…is that a yes?"
"I hate you."
"Great! I'll be there to pick you up at 9."
…..
The next morning, he was far too excited by the prospect of an entire day with a certain cat lady to even think of wasting time on something as boring as sleep. By 6, he was in the shower, and by 6:15, he was dancing around his closet to Right Said Fred's I'm Too Sexy, wearing nothing but his mint colored monogrammed boxers.
I'm too sexy for my shirt
Too sexy for my shirt
So sexy it hurts
Standing in his closet, surrounded on three sides by an impressive rainbow of polos and oxfords, he shimmied and shook to the beat, his old hockey stick now repurposed into a microphone. Enthusiastically pivoting around his trusty Easton floor mic, his feet, still wet from the shower, lost their traction and sent him sliding across the wood floor on his backside. Toppling sideways into a built-in shoe rack, a pair of tassled Weejuns came crashing down on his head, the song still thumping in the background.
To be so smart, Julie sure does have interesting taste in men…
Sighing, he picked himself up off the floor, rubbing his sore tailbone. Bruised though his ego was, he couldn't help but laugh at the irony of the situation.
Thankful that nobody was around to witness his spectacle, he returned the shoes to their proper spot and leaned his microphone back against the wall, making a mental note to leave the dancing to people far more graceful than himself.
Recognizing that he was definitely not too sexy for his shirt, he reached over and grabbed his favorite light blue oxford from its wooden hanger and proceeded to get dressed for the morning, his mind pleasantly racing at the thought of the day ahead. Carefully buttoning each button, he thought of Julie's perfect smile, and the glorious feeling of her arms around him, making everything seem right with the world.
Soon, he was fully dressed, his favorite shirt and ubiquitous khakis accented with a red, white, and blue needlepoint belt that a friend of his mom's had made for him following the Team USA win, complete with little navy blue hockey sticks. Taking one last glance in the mirror before he left, he smiled—sure, his nose was still too big, he was still too pale, and he was as awkward as ever, but he felt okay about things. Better than usual.
After all, if Julie could like a dork like him, he had to be doing something right.
.
Eager to kill a few minutes before it was time to pick Julie up at the dorms, he made a quick run through the drive through to pick up two coffees—one for him, and one for his beloved date. With the top down, the cool morning breeze blew through his sandy hair as he sipped his warm coffee, Hootie & the Blowfish's Only Wanna Be With You playing softly on the stereo as he approached Eden Hall.
I am one very, very lucky guy!
Driving past the wrought iron gates that surrounded the stately campus, it occurred to him that for all of the place's flaws, it really was gorgeously manicured. With the arrival of spring, the blossoming trees now formed a delicate floral canopy, and the morning sun bathed everything in a warm glow. Taking another sip of his coffee, he slowly turned down the narrow road that led to the girl's dormitory, his heart fluttering with anticipation.
As Julie emerged from the side door of her stone dormitory, his recognition of his own luck only intensified. For the occasion, she had borrowed a navy Tommy Hilfiger dress from Connie that was both a bit shorter and tighter than anything her own sensible mother would allow her to purchase, the dark blue cotton gracefully hugging her every curve. While the dress was well within the bounds of good taste, it was a drastic departure from her usual jeans and sweatshirts.
As Adam got out to help her into the car, he found himself grateful for the dark lenses of his Wayfarers. Try as he might to be a perfect gentleman, it was impossible to resist checking out her wonderfully sculpted legs as he politely held the door for her.
"I must say, your parents definitely outdid themselves on the birthday gift!"
"Heh, yeah," He smiled, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. "Definitely not what I would have picked, but they meant well."
"You know, only you would manage to be embarrassed by a car like this!" Julie laughed, both amused and charmed by his endless modesty.
"What? It's just so…over the top."
"You know, it's alright to stand out a little every now and then. I'm pretty sure if anyone deserves something nice like this, it's you."
"Yeah. Try talking to Varsity about how it's okay to stand out." He thought ruefully, his mind drifting away from his beautiful girlfriend and the perfect weather, towards darker, less pleasant memories.
"Are you alright?"
By this time, he was back in the driver's seat, and from the look on his face and way he was staring blankly at the steering wheel, Julie could tell there was more on his mind than just the car. Gently, she took hold of his still casted hand the best that she could, her fingers tracing the smooth ridges of his short, round fingernails.
I think this may be the first time his fingers haven't been chewed down to bloody nubs.
"Oh yeah. I'm fine. Sorry." He smiled, quickly snapped back to the present. Back to the wonderful feeling of her perfect silky skin against his rough, calloused fingers.
"So what would you like to do? Today is all yours."
.
As per the suggestion of a certain older Banks brother, the two went to pick up bagels, then headed down to the river for a morning picnic…Adam prudently ignoring his brother's suggestion to pack a bottle of vodka for the occasion.
Though I suppose the Venn diagram of girls who enjoy vodka with their bagels and girls who find Scott attractive probably would form a perfect circle…
Down by the secluded river bank, the two sat comfortably side by side, cozily curled up together under an extra wool blanket he'd brought along for staving off the morning chill. In front of them, the muddy waters of The Mighty Mississippi sparkled in the sun, and in the distance, they could see two barges passing one another as the river slowly flowed south towards the land of seersucker and blues.
"You know, you're surprisingly romantic when you want to be." Julie smiled, hoping to distract a certain preppy from the chocolate chip bagel he was nibbling on.
"Well" He blushed, setting his bagel down to wrap an arm around her waist. "I'm afraid I can't really take the credit on this one. I guess Scott's the romantic one, since it was his idea."
"Wait—what?" She chuckled, leaning into his solid body as she took in the clean, familiar scent of his cologne. "A romantic Scott? Now that's the real surprise!"
"Hey now! He's got like, six kids with six different moms. It takes a certain amount of romance to pull that kind of thing off…"
Dang it. Why did I just say that?
"Are you trying to get me pregnant?"
Crap. No, I definitely should NOT have said that!
"Oh my gosh, no! Jesus, no! I would—I would definitely never do that! I mean, I don't even plan to have sex! Ever! Or maybe one day, but…" He quickly pulled away from her warm embrace, his face turning a deep shade of magenta as he bemoaned the fact that he'd accidentally made himself out to be an impregnating pervert.
Okay dumbass. You're not exactly making this better.
"Relax." Julie smiled, scooting back over towards him. "I was kidding. Besides, you are far too cute to 'never have sex ever'."
Oh really?
Feeling emboldened, he leaned over to kiss her, this time continuing to lean forward after he'd brought his lips to hers, gently guiding her down until they were both lying on the ground, his long athletic body on top of hers. Placing his good arm behind her head as a pillow, he shifted his weight to his knees and elbows as he softly nibbled her bottom lip, the edge of his nose gently brushing against her perfect cheek.
Unable to resist this steamier side of Adam, Julie's hands quickly found their way up his now un-tucked oxford, her fingers caressing his smooth back.
Though his perfectly carved abs had faded away, and his back and shoulders were a bit softer than they had been two months earlier, she still found his body to be as delightful as ever. There was something about touching the warm, hidden parts normally covered by his neatly pressed shirts that gave her a sense of intimacy that she so often longed for. As she ran her fingers over his obliques, she found herself wishing that emotional intimacy could be as easy to come by as un-tucking his shirt.
.
"So…how much longer until you get to return to your one true love?"
Having finally parted from their passionate liplock long enough to come up for air, the two were lying side by side on the striped Hudson Bay blanket, staring up at the white puffy clouds. For the last ten minutes, they had been debating whether one cloud looked more like a mermaid eating soup or a giraffe riding a horse, but that cloud having drifted away, Julie was craving conversation a little more substantive.
"Well, The Minnesota Club has chicken strips at lunch time, so probably in another hour or so."
Looking over, Julie weighed whether to press the issue. His evasiveness made it clear that there was something he wasn't telling her.
Then again, what's new?
Sighing, she decided to drop the subject. After all, they were having a lovely day, and there was no use trying to force him to open up.
"That's just wrong."
"Why?"
"Because you can't order chicken strips at a place like that!"
"Oh but you can! And they're awesome!"
"You know, to be so classy, you really are kind of a dork sometimes…"
He smiled, rolling over to kiss her cheek. Wrapping an arm around her, he pulled himself in closer, savoring the feeling of being so close to her.
"And to be so smart, it apparently took you awhile to notice."
…