A/N: Well, it's been a while but a lot has happened since the last chapter (for instance, I started college, went to a John Mayer/Maroon 5 concert—which was the best concert ever and also the highlight of my life—my computer crashed... so on, so forth). But I just got back from swing dancing, and I decided to finish this chapter whilst I was still on that high.
Mwhahahaha. Here's where the fun really starts. Enter two of my favorite characters.
o o o o o o o o o o o
Now I'll admit, 'love' is one of those abstract nouns with a thousand something possible meanings. But by any definition of the word, Jen was in no way in love with Elton last Saturday night. I mean, I'd barely talked her out of Luke Emerson, right? But as soon as I tell her—quite tactfully, I might add—that dear Elton was in fact interested in me, dear Elton has suddenly become the great love of her life. She cries off and on for two days. She watches My Best Friend's Wedding twice. She skips Creative Writing.
Here's the point where I decide things have got to stop. Because 1) this has got to be unhealthy for the girl and 2) I'm getting tired of hearing about Elton every other conversation. So I make an executive decision and take her to the only place where she won't be able to talk about him. Because, I figure, she won't be able to talk at all.
"Oh my gosh, Becka, I'm sooo glad you came over because I just got the best news in the world—oh, hi Jen—yeah, I just got the best news," Natalie Banks busts as we enter her dorm room.
"How're you doing, Natalie," I ask, trying to slow the ebb of conversation. It's impossible to describe how fast this girl talks.
"Oh, just great. I just saw Elton, and he was with this girl I've never met before. Her name's Adrianna or Arianna or something I think. Very pretty girl."
Side glance at Jen. She looks like she's doing alright. Staring at Melanie's closet, actually. I'm not sure if she's really hearing any of this. Either way I try to steer the conversation in a different direction. "So what was your news, Natalie?" I ask.
"Oh, it's the greatest!" she exclaims, "Sophie Walker—"
Oh no, not her.
"Sophie Walker has decided to take a break from her modeling and guess where she's decided to go?"
"Thailand?" I ask hopefully.
Natalie laughs like that was funny. "No! She's coming here! Isn't that the best?!"
Oh sure. The best. Jen, having heard my diatribes on Sophie Walker, is laughing silently at me from behind Natalie. "That's great, Natalie," I manage.
"Oh, but there's one thing. She's flying in tomorrow and someone needs to pick her up and you know I don't have a car..." for once in her life the girl trails off as she looks hopefully at me. My visions getting blurry.
"What time?" I ask dismally.
"3 o'clock."
"Did you ask Christian?" My only hope. This seems the exactly the sort of thing he would do, him being the kind of person who would do anything for anybody. Especially for me. Especially if I beg.
"Christian has a class."
Dammit. I knew that. Advanced Physics. Well...
"Okay, I guess I can pick her up," I give in, feeling particularly benevolent.
"Oh my gosh, Becka!" Thank you so much! You're the best!" says Natalie and continues on like this for some time.
Great. Just great.
o o o o o o o o o o o
I'm trying to tell myself as I'm waiting in the airport, maybe this girl won't be so bad. But as soon as I see her walking down the terminal I change my mind. It's hard to miss this girl—long dark hair, bright green eyes, waist the size of a pencil. Mmm-hmm. Definitely the model.
When I see her begin looking around for Natalie, I giver her a little wave and she starts towards me.
"Hi," I say, smiling generously, "You must be Sophie Walker." She nods slightly. "I'm Becka Hanson," I finish. A light of recognition comes on in Sophie's eyes and now she smiles. "Oh yeah, Hi Becka," and she shakes my hand.
Once we've gotten her stuff and loaded it into the car, I'm trying to think of something to say. Without much luck. It's a thirty minute drive from the airport back to campus and it's going to be a long thirty minutes if neither of us says anything. But, I mean, she's a model. That's pretty one-dimensional—how much can you talk about it? I decide to take a new angle on the model thing and ask, "So, do you travel a lot being a model?" I'm trying hard not to sound condescending.
"Actually, I was just in Europe doing a photo shoot she says."
Ah, Europe. Well, that leaves opportunity for me to slide into one of my favorite subjects. "Oh yeah? I know someone who's in Europe, well actually I know his cousin. But Chase Everhart, yeah."
"Oh," she's says, a little oddly. "Oh, I met Chase."
Oh my God. Suddenly this girl is a little more interesting. "You have?" I ask, with maybe a little too much enthusiasm. "I've heard so much about him but I've never met him. What's he like, is he hot?" Oooh, that's probably part of that coming-off-as-shallow problem. Sorry Christian.
Sophie shrugs. "He wasn't bad looking, I guess."
Okaaay. Could you be any more vague? I try again. "Is he nice?"
Another shrug. "He seemed perfectly amiable."
Amiable? Who says 'amiable'? What does that even mean? Okay, one last time. "Well, was he smart."
"He seemed to be well-informed."
Huh. Insufferable girl. Obviously she is not going to tell me anything about Chase Everhart, which makes me like her less than ever. I give up.
"What kind of music do you like?" I ask, as I turn on the radio.
o o o o o o o o o o o o o
The next day Christian and I are sitting on the ground in the middle of campus, leaning against the back of the Science building sign. He's supposed to be explaining this chemistry thing to me, but I can only take so much of it before my mind.
"Guess who's in town?" I ask, as I pass the chemistry book into his lap.
"I take it from that hint of hostility in your voice that it isn't John Mayer."
"Sophie Walker," I supply.
"Ahh," he nods, eyebrows raised in his I'm-laughing-on-the-inside way. "That's interesting."
"And guess," I continue importantly, "who she met in Europe."
"Oh please don't tell me it's Chase bloody Everhart."
"She wouldn't tell me a thing about him, and I was obviously interested," I complain, now that we've gotten to where I really wanted to get to.
"I'm sure you were," Christian says dryly. "Maybe she doesn't really know him." Christian is always trying to make excuses for people, like he automatically assumes everyone must be a nice person. It's kind of that innocent-until-proven-guilty thing.
"Well then she could've just said, 'Oh, well I barely met him. I don't really know,' and I wouldn't be so annoyed. She was obviously just trying to piss me off."
"Obviously," he rolls his eyes. "Why would Sophie Walker want to piss you off anyway?"
"How should I know? Obviously the girl's just got something against me."
"Right. I'm sure. Maybe she's just trying to help you overcome the unhealthy Chase Everhart obsession."
"It's not an unhealthy obsession," I grumble.
"What, it's a healthy one?" Christian asks, smiling down on me wryly.
I laugh in spite of myself. "No," I answer deliberately. "I mean, it's not an 'obsession.'"
"Uh-huh. Right," he shakes he head laughing at me. I screw up my face, pretending to be mad, and then start laughing to.
"Anyway," Christian continues, "I've got some news."
"Oh, please tell me it's good news."
"Well, it's news news." The way we're sitting one of my legs is stretched out on top of his, him using my shoulder as an elbow-rest, and he starts playing absent-mindedly with my hair as he says this. It's taken some effort to convince this school that Christian and I are not now, or ever planning on dating. No. I'm thinking this may be part of the problem.
"Shoot," I say.
"Elton's got a girlfriend."
"Ugg," I moan, leaning my head back against the wall. "Will I never stop hearing about Elton?"
"Probably not."
"What she like?" I ask.
"Oh," he laughs, "You're just gonna have to meat this girl. There's no describing her." Then, sliding the chemistry book back onto my lap he continues, "Come on, girl, what are we here to do?"
"Nooo!" I moan, leaning my forehead on his shoulder, in an exaggerated display of my despair.
"Excuse me, I'm sorry," said a voice from above, "do either of you, by any chance, know West Canin?"
At first I don't move from my half-on-top-of-Christian position, until I look up and see who it is that's addressing us. Then instantly I'm moving and straitening and standing and I'm saying, "Oh my God, you're Chase Everhart."