My friend assures me,
"It's all or nothing."
I am not worried I am not overly concerned
My friend implores me,
"For one time only, make an exception."
I am not worried
And damn it he was frustrated. He had spent hours poring over his law books for the finals. Yes, he had nearly aced it. He had no interruptions. No one called him, or came by to see him, that was, other than Charlie. But dear old Charlie had found that he was wrong about relationships being nothing but work. He had found himself a very nice red-head named Claire, and the two were practically inseparable. Charlie was a good guy, and he often invited Sandy along with the two of them, but Sandy figured that he was just better off alone. And so he was alone. And damn it he was frustrated.
He missed her, so damn much, it literally hurt him physically. He missed everything about her, and everything about himself when was with her. He was crazy about her, and as much as he thought that the work outweighed the love, he was ten times as wrong.
The phone rang. Five bucks it's Charlie. Sandy thought to himself.
"Hello?" he answered, after grabbing the receiver. He tried his best to sound somewhat enlightened.
"Hey dude. What's up. Finals are over… huh? HUH? Claire's gone for some function with her family and I thought you and I could have a guys weekend, get wasted, have a good time? What d'ya say?" Charlie reeled all in one breath.
"Umm how's Claire going to feel about that?" replied Sandy in a sensible tone.
"Who are you, my mother? It's not like either one of us is going to tell her. Besides, I'm worried about you. You are spending waayy to much time on school." Charlie coaxed.
"Charlie, first of all, it's school, that's the point of being here in the first place. Secondly, don't not tell your girlfriend. That's a set up for disaster. Believe me, I would know." Sandy argued.
"Ok, fine, you win. I just hate to see my best friend in pain. Don't say you aren't. Look, I know you tried just getting with other random girls and that didn't work, so why don't you just start looking for someone that you enjoy. Someone to spend time with, make you laugh, or here's an idea, someone you can make laugh. You're hilarious, and talented, Sandy. Please, just give it a shot. You may find that you may actually be happy and over her." Charlie pleaded.
"I just don't think I can do that. I'll talk to you later. Tell Claire I said hello." Sandy hung up the phone and clicked on the television. Because he was not about to make himself more depressed with daytime soaps. Coffee would be a good fix. He grabbed his worn wallet and threw on a semi-clean shirt and some tacky sandals.
Trampling down the stairs, he pushed his mop of hair away from his eyes, and pushed the door open. He squinted into the sunlight, a bit angry at the world he was stuck inside of. After walking around to the other side of the block and paying for his small coffee, and was on his way to turn around and drink it and WHAM. Something hit him, or rather, someone hit him. The girl of the story. A mess of long blond hair gasped and looked down at her cream colored, and now cream and brown splotted top.
"Oh, my, I- I'm so sorry, um I- here, let me help you, here…" he offered her a napkin.
"It's no problem…" she replied sarcastically annoyed.
"Do you want a sweatshirt or something?" Sandy offered politely.
"In the 95 degree weather? Thanks a bunch." the girl responded.
"How about a t-shirt or something?" he attempted a second time.
"I can walk all 8 blocks back to my apartment, and be nearly 30 minutes late for my job interview, it's no problem." she spilled out.
"I'm really sorry, is there anything I can do?" Sandy said, annoyed.
"I think you've done enough, thank you very much." the girl snapped, and then pulled her purse a little higher onto her shoulder. She brushed passed him, and down the street.
For the first time in a long time, Sandy found himself staring at a woman walking down the street-- from behind. She had great legs, accentuated by clicking designer heels and a professional skirt, but with a not-so-professional slit in the back. He watched the sway of her hips, a natural back and forth, while she tried to race along the side walk while getting rid of her coffee stain. His coffee stain. Sandy smiled to himself. That girl was kinda hot when she was mad.
He retreated up to his room, and the phone rang as soon as he got there.
"Hello?"
"Sanford. Party. You, me, tonight with plenty of girls to go around." Charlie blared into the phone.
"And Claire said what about this?"
"Well, I asked her," shocking Sandy thought to himself. "and she said that it was for a good cause" Great. Now I'm a cause. "and I guess she 'trusts' me or whatever so it's all good. I promise." Sandy snorted to himself.
"Fine. If you insist." he finally gave in.
"Fantastic! Great. Sandy, you won't regret it. I'll see you tonight."
"Bye." he hung up the phone and headed to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he saw how much older and aged he looked, even for a college kid. It was just the stress of law school, not loneliness, right?
"You have freaking frown lines dude." Charlie had told him once.
I have to try. Otherwise I will be an old cat man. That's even worse.
10:00 rolled around and the Sandy and Charlie were at the party. Charlie made a beeline for the keg and Sandy followed him, not really knowing anyone. A flock of girls followed Sandy.
A few hours later, Sandy had picked and weeded through the flock, tactfully getting rid of the annoying ditzy girls, the mean ones, the ones who immediately asked him upstairs, and narrowed his group of three or four to a few good conversationalists. Mind you, they were all very drunk.
All of a sudden, Carrie, a thin brunette with silky tan skin got up, and ran over to the door, hugging someone and squealing in excitement. The beautiful blond that Carrie released from her embrace was none other than the cream and brown splotted girl with the nice legs.
Sandy's jaw dropped open, he got up from the couch, marched over to her, offering her a drink, acting much more debonair than he had that afternoon, and offered her a drink. She gladly accepted, and the two went off to a secluded corner of the room and began having a deep conversation about their pasts and families that got only got deeper with each trip to the keg. Eventually they stopped talking and started making out.
God Cohen, shut up, get that stupid voice out of your head, yeah like she's going to be interested in the depressedlaw studentwho spilled coffee all over her.
No, in reality, his jaw just dropped open.
Carrie dragged the girl over to the couch. Seeing no way to compete with the look Sandy was giving this girl, given her radiant beauty, all of the girls got up and split for separate areas of the room. Sandy hardly even noticed, Carrie, however did.
"Hi, Kirsten Nichol." the blond offered a hand to Sandy. He didn't respond right away. She obviously didn't recognize him as the guy that spilled coffee on her. That had to have been her, right?
"Uhh, Hi, Sandy Cohen, here sit? If you want? Did you get a drink, here I'll--"
"Thanks. Here," she said, grabbing drinks out of a random drunk person's hands, handing one plastic red cup to Sandy. She took a delicate sip, and tried her hardest to ingest with minimal looks of disgust, the concoction in her cup. She hiccoughed a bit. Sandy just shook his head and laughed. "So. Tell me about yourself." she continued shrewdly.
"Well, I'm twenty-two, I'm in my first year of law school, I was Danny in Berkeley's Grease the past semester…" he started listing off.
Damnit why is this so hard. She's hot. I can't believe she doesn't remember me from today. Crazy… God, I'm not ready for this. Screw Charlie and his big ideas. He's probably off getting laid somewhere. Poor Claire. God, there's a beautiful woman sitting right in front of me. Shit, she just did the hair twirl. What do I do now? I can't even speak. Damnit usually when I see a girl this beautiful I can't shut up. Now when I really could use that I just sit here like a mute. Cohen shut up in your head. Talk. Think suave, debonair, be cool…
"That's not what I meant." Kirsten responded. She put her hand on his knee, and scooted closer forward towards him. Sandy felt every nerve in his entire body stand on end.
"Well I'm Jewish, my dad walked out on us when I was like nine.. My mom is a total nut. She's a workaholic, she's a social worker back in the Bronx, I've got a brother and a sister. Moved to Berkeley when I was sixteen, I'm still getting over a long relationship, and I hate pickles. Oh, I love surfing. I picked that up when I moved here. Something about getting your ass kicked and your mouth all salty by mother nature…" Kirsten let out a small giggle. She smiled at him and pushed a strand of hair away from her face.
Carrie knew that Kirsten wanted to be set up with someone, well Exhibit A sits right in front of you! Sandy seemed like a nice guy. He was a bit crazy when it came to speaking in run-on sentences, but she guessed that it was part of his charm. She wanted more than anything for Kirsten to fall for someone like that.
Someone completely opposite of her.
It wasn't that Kirsten wasn't charming, it was just that at first she was a refined beauty sitting by herself in the corner of the room. Being her best friend, she knew that the unleashed Kirsten was nothing of the sort. In addition to having quite a hollow leg, she was hyper when she was happy.
She had a great laugh when someone told a joke that was really making her laugh. She was Caleb Nichol's daughter. She had grown up with a tough exterior, and she only showed her vulnerable side to those that she completely trusted.
And of course, she was beautiful. Her glassy blue eyes seemed to hold a secret that Kirsten didn't really understand herself. Her golden blond hair reeled attention from anyone. Her button nose was slender, and sat symmetrically above cherry lips that curled mischievously to uncover smooth shiny teeth. Her voice was calm, rather soothing and angelic. She had a small, but perfectly proportionate and goddess-like figure. Her stride was elegant, and was irrepressibly classy. Her beauty was the first noticeable thing that made her attractive.
Yes, Sandy seemed like a great guy. He was charming, but he was gentlemanly, and not an overly self-confident individual, which actually struck her as a sign of maturity. The lines around his eyes told her had known a lot of different things in his life time. Someone who knew the world would want to protect a girl like Kirsten from it. She had decided to get up from her seat on the couch so that she could give possibly the best relationship ever a chance to unfold. It seemed to be working. She turned around, and they were gone.
"So why did you want to come outside?" Sandy asked a sweatshirt-clad Kirsten.
"Well it got kind of hot in there… and I just felt like taking a walk under the stars…" she looked up at the sky. She threw her arms out and spun herself around, throwing her blond head back in a laugh. Suddenly she let out a random sneeze. She fell to the ground in an infectious laughter, followed by Sandy. Her laugh was nearly musical.
He was laying next to her on the grass when the sprinklers came on. Immediately she shrieked and got up as quickly as possible. Too late, she was already wet.
Sandy didn't move. He just lay there, watching her freak out, and found himself laughing at her.
She offered him a hand to help him up. He gladly accepted and stood up, his 6'2" towering over her 5'6".
She placed her hands on his broad chest and he clasped her small hands and held them close to him. They went in together, and their first kiss ensued. And damn, he was beginning not to be so frustrated.
Wrap her up in a package of lies
Send her off to a coconut island
I am not worried I am not overly concerned with the status of my emotions
"Oh," she says, "you're changing."
But we're always changing
It does not bother me to say this isn't love
Because if you don't want to talk about it then it isn't love
And I guess I'm going to have to live with that
But I'm sure there's something in a shade of grey,
Something in between,
And I can always change my name
If that's what you mean