I didn't believe him. Not totally.
I mean, what guy goes from horror to "I'm totally happy to do it"? It was so fake.
But then Neil gave me the most adorable smile, and all my concerns melted away. I rode that smile all the way through English class. Mr. Keating was very cool, very cool indeed, but if it hadn't been for that smile, I don't think I would have been in a good enough mood to last me the period.
As it were, however, the class was amazing. Everyone seemed so passionate, so full of life at the prospect of poetry and words and living deliberately and all that. Especially Neil and his friends, I couldn't help but notice. I could tell Neil was really into it. He smiled a lot more than in Latin or Trig and his eyes twinkled and his face lit up when we talked about Shakespeare.
Mr. Keating was hilarious as well. The boys seemed to really respond to him, which I thought was strange but cool at the same time.
I was back in my room by four o'clock. Science and history homework was done by five thirty, which left me half an hour to get ready for Neil coming over. Not that I was eager to see him, or anything, but I wanted to look… presentable. I hadn't gotten any English homework and I wasn't worried about Trig. I would start that after I had done Latin.
I took a shower and washed my hair. I put on a bit of mascara as well, even though I normally didn't wear makeup. The girls at my old school used to tell me that I looked better natural, but the girls there were always trying to tear each other down, so I never knew whether to believe them or not.
At six o'clock, my Latin notebook was open and the textbook had been marked with pieces of paper – which sections I didn't understand and which I was okay with. At 6:05, the books had been moved onto the bed. It didn't mean anything. It was just… more comfortable.
At 6:10, I remembered that his dorm was just across the hall from mine. He could at least tell me he couldn't make it, I thought.
At 6:15, I started my Trig.
I had never been stood up before, but then again, I had never been asked out before, so I'd never really gotten the opportunity. Not that this was a date or anything. But I figured it would feel the same – like you hadn't been a big enough priority for the person to come, or even call. Like you didn't matter.
Okay. Maybe I was overreacting. But still. I was a seventeen-year-old girl who had never been on a date with a guy, and was thrust into a school of all boys, and the first boy who had made plans to come to my room had ditched me.
The good mood I'd had all day vanished.
Six-Forty: Forty Minutes Late
Okay, so I was excited. I mean, I knew it wasn't a date or anything. I was just tutoring her. But still. This was the first time in a long time that I would be alone in a room with a girl. A really pretty girl as well.
This might turn into something more, I said to myself. I was hoping it would.
I put on some good clothes and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked nice and clean, I thought, which was good. I didn't want to look too nice, however. I didn't want to look like I cared too much.
Charlie had come into my room earlier and said that Jillian wanted me to come at seven, not six. I was kind of disappointed. For one thing, it meant that she wasn't really eager to see me. For another, it meant that she had come to Charlie before she came to me, like she didn't want to talk to me directly.
But still. If she was debating between me and Charlie, there was still plenty of time for me to sway her opinion toward me. Not that it was a competition or anything.
I was still five minutes early. I didn't want to seem like I was looking forward to it or anything, but I had nothing else to do… I walked across the hall and came to her room.
I knocked on her door.
"Who is it?" called a voice from inside. My heart pounded.
"Uh, Neil," I answered. "Sorry if you're not ready…"
There seemed to be a long pause, but maybe I was imagining it.
"Okay, uh, Neil, just give me a second." She sounded confused. There was a thud and the sound of a large object being moved across the floor. Another pause. She came to the door and unlocked it.
I stared at her. She was wearing the same thing as she had that day, but with a few tweaks. Her shirt was pulled tight against her skin and she wore her skirt up higher, to her waist, exposing more of her thighs. It looked as though she had tried to make her hair nice, but it had gotten messy again. I didn't mind.
She must have noticed me staring at her, because she blushed and turned away.
"So…" I said awkwardly. "Do you want to work on Latin?"
She looked at me in that special way again, but she wasn't smiling. She was genuinely confused.
"Sorry. I, uh, already finished it."
"But… I thought – I thought I was supposed to tutor you."
Scenes from every movie flashed into my head. The only thing ever keeping lovers apart was miscommunication. But I didn't know where it was here.
"You were," she said. I detected traces of anger in her voice. I didn't want her blowing up at me like she did at Mr. Jones. "But you were late."
"Seven o'clock," I said. "Charlie told me…" I stopped. Jillian looked at me, wonderingly, and I quickly explained to her what Charlie had told me.
"Oh, Neil," Charlie said, looking smug. "I talked to Jillian."
"Oh, really?" I asked.
"Yes. She said to tell you that she wants your little tutoring session moved to seven, not six."
"Did she say why?"
"I can't remember. I didn't pay too much attention. I was staring at her…"
I stopped there, but it was too late. Jillian looked embarrassed.
"I – uh, I never talked to Charlie. I don't even know who he is."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I had all these notes and things to help me… help you, I guess. I thought I was on time."
"Don't worry about it," she said. "It's okay. I got done with some other homework as well."
"So you finished Latin?"
She blushed. "Well, no, not really… I just said that so… I don't know."
I knew. It made perfect sense. I would have done the same thing.
"Listen, why don't I help you with Latin anyways? I'm sorry for ditching you – I mean, it must have felt that way to you, I guess, even though it wasn't intentional. But I could help you. Latin's pretty hard, you know, and…"
I was babbling. Jillian was looking at me, amused. I stopped.
"Well, if you really want to…" she smiled.
I was just about to say some funny, sweet, and witty comment when the dinner bell rang.
"Oh," I said. "I totally forgot about dinner."
Jillian seemed to find this hilarious. I laughed as well.
"Do you want to head down to dinner… with me?" I asked.
Jillian smiled, but it seemed kind of half-hearted. "What's wrong?" I asked.
"Oh, it's nothing." I raised my eyebrows. "I mean, I just – well, this will sound stupid, but I kind of made a promise to myself that I'd actually talk to people, and… well, I don't know. I'm not really looking forward to it." She blushed.
"Come on, Jillian," I told her. I put my hand over hers. She blushed even redder. My face felt warm. "There are a hundred guys out there who can't wait to meet you. To hear what you have to say, to see you, to see a real girl for once." She smiled. "Don't worry about this." She still looked unconvinced. "Here, how about this. You'll sit by me. I'll introduce you to my friends. They all live in this hall, so you'll essentially be meeting your neighbors – and your classmates."
She smiled again, warmer this time. I realized that I loved her smile. It was the smile that I could wake up in the morning to see.
"I can't wait," she said, and I believed her.