Ross squirted the mousse in both hands and smoothed back his hair. Much better. He'd had three girls compliment his looks today. Three girls who didn't know he'd existed before he'd started going out with Rachel. Even though Ross hadn't orchestrated this plan to get popular, he had to admit that it was a nice fringe benefit. No one bothered him anymore. He could walk through the halls of Lincoln High without being called names or tripped.
"Ross, where are you headed off to looking so handsome?," his mother asked when he stepped into the living room. Ross was wearing a blue dress shirt with white pants and shoes. His slick backed hair completed the look. He was holding some flowers that he'd bought earlier that day. He wanted everything to be perfect because tonight something was happening that he had been looking forward to for a long time.
"He's going out with Rachel," Monica grinned. She was sitting at the coffee table playing Monopoly with their father. It was true. As part of the deal, Ross had negotiated two Saturday nights during the month that he and Rachel would spend together.
"Rachel Green? When did this happen?," his father asked, surprised.
"And that's not all," Monica added. "He's been sitting at the cafeteria table at lunch. The table they won't even let me anywhere near."
"Of course they won't let you near it. You're a nerd." Ross informed her heartlessly.
"It's like the Twilight Zone. I don't know what Rachel and all the others see in him all of a sudden. He's even ditched his old friends and only hangs around the popular crowd now," Monica went on. To Ross's relief, Rachel had apparently not told Monica about the deal. Ross and Monica had a fairly typical sibling relationship, and he'd never hear the end of it if she had this information to hold over him.
Ross started to protest Monica's words when his mother interrupted. "It doesn't surprise me a bit that the kids have finally come around to see what a wonderful boy our Ross is." She stopped for a second to straighten his collar.
"Aw, Mom." Ross was embarrassed. His parents always thought anything he did was just wonderful.
"Ross, before you go on this date, I think you and I had better have a little talk," his father said, the Monopoly game forgotten.
"Dad, no! We don't need to do that. I'm going to be late," Ross cried. His father meant well, but sometimes he was too blunt. It was mortifying the way he said certain things.
"Jack, not now," Mrs. Geller said.
"What? I just want to make sure he's prepared. Does he know what goes where?"
Ross headed out the door.
"Ross, wait!," his mother called. Ross paused in the threshold of the doorway.
"Be home by eleven. And take your father's car," she added, pressing the keys into his hand. Great. He wasn't sure if taking the pizzamobile was better than walking.
"And by the way, how are you enjoying your new model?"
In all the excitement of the past week, Ross had completely forgotten about the dinosaur model kit he was supposed to have bought.
"Just great, Mom. Thanks for the car!" He held up the keys and smiled.
Ross chugged down the street to Rachel's house. It was only three blocks away, but the station wagon was so broken down that little kids on bicycles were passing him. Every now and then he'd forget and lean on the horn.
By the time he reached Rachel's driveway, the car was making a rattling sound. It sputtered to a stop. Ross got out, reached in for the flowers and looked up at the second story window that was Rachel's bedroom. He saw the purple curtain part just a little and then close.
Ross had this date all planned out. He knew he was going to have to act fast if he stood any chance getting Rachel to fall for him, so he was pulling out all the stops. First, he had watched how the popular guys at school acted around girls. They weren't all nervous and shy like he was. They called the girls they liked "babe" and "honey." They drove shiny cars and took their dates to the most expensive restaurants. Even though he had very little money left after giving his life savings to Rachel, Ross was planning to take her to a fancy Italian place his parents always went to on their anniversary.
Rachel's younger sister Amy answered the door. She looked at Ross solemnly before saying. "My sister is waiting for you in her room. She wants to you come up as soon as possible."
"Wha-, sure," Ross said, confused. He had expected Rachel to answer the door. He followed Amy and Jill up to Rachel's room.
Ross knocked before entering. "You wanted to see me?" he asked hopefully as he opened the door.
Rachel was lying on her bed with her legs crossed filing her nails. She was wearing a pink nightgown. Her eyes were red-rimmed as if she'd been crying.
Rachel threw down the nail file. "Those brats. I told them to tell you I wasn't here." At that, Jill and Amy burst into laughter outside the door. Then they could hear their running feet pounding down the stairs.
"Why didn't you want me to know you were here? And why aren't you ready?" Ross asked. He wasn't going to be swayed by her tears this time. That was how he had gotten into this whole mess.
"Oh Ross, I just don't feel like going out." Rachel sat up in bed and turned away from him.
Ross set down the flowers on the vanity table. He was starting to get upset. "But it was part of the deal that we go out on dates!" he practically shouted. The most important part, really, though Rachel didn't know that.
"I know," Rachel said. She sighed. "I guess I do owe you an explanation. You know that guy I dated last year, Scott?"
Ross nodded. Big guy. Letter jacket. Not much upstairs.
"Well, he didn't call me all summer. I know I shouldn't have done it, but today I called him at his dorm. He answered, but when I started talking he hung up." Rachel's face scrunched up in pain as if she were reliving the event. It was obvious she wasn't used to getting rejected.
"Maybe something is wrong with the phone line." Without thinking about what he was doing, Ross sat next to Rachel on the bed. "That must be it."
"Maybe," Rachel was really crying now. "Do you really think that's it?" she looked up expectantly.
"Of course. I mean, of course this guy is thinking about you. How could he not? And if he doesn't call you, someone else will," Ross finished confidently.
Rachel sighed and twirled a strand of hair around her finger. "Ross, you're a man...almost. Tell me, if you dated a girl for three and a half months and promised to write and call after you left for college, what reason would you have for not doing that?"
Ross had to think for a minute because her question was so jumbled and she was talking so quickly it was hard to understand.
"Well, for one thing I would never do that," he said carefully. "I mean, not call or write when I said I was going to. Maybe someone who acts like that doesn't deserve you." Ross shifted uncomfortably and averted his eyes from Rachel's. He was sure she was going to get mad at him and accuse him of making a pass at her.
But when Ross finally looked up, Rachel was gazing at him, a slight smile playing on her lips. The only sound in the room was the ticking of a clock. They stayed like that, just looking at each other, for several minutes.
Suddenly a sharp knock on the door shattered the stillness in the room. "Rachel, I've told you a million times we don't allow boys in the bedrooms with the doors closed in this house!"
It was Rachel's father. Ross jumped off the bed as the door swung open.
Rachel rolled her eyes. "Don't make such a big deal, Daddy. It's just Ross."
Just Ross. Of course her father didn't need to worry because nothing would ever happen with just Ross.
"Well, according to your sisters, you've got some hot and heavy romance going with this boy." More giggles in the background. "I want you dressed and the both of you out of this room." He walked away, but not before leaving the door ajar.
A few minutes later Ross and Rachel were sitting in the backyard in the lounge chairs by the pool. Even though it was unseasonably warm for late September, it was too cool to swim. And even though Rachel still wasn't in the mood to go out, she seemed to have changed her mind about fulfilling her contractual obligation to at least hang out with Ross tonight.
After several minutes of silence, Ross decided to make small talk. "So what about your college plans? Have you thought about it?"
"Not really," Rachel admitted. "I'm only in eleventh grade."
"The time goes by faster than you think," Ross warned. "When I was a junior I already new I was going to NYU."
"Yeah, but college is important to you. My parents think...Well, they're only paying for my college tuition because they think I'll find a smart man to marry that way."
"But is that what you want? I feel like I've been studying to be a paleontologist my whole life. Isn't there something like that you want to be?" Ross asked.
"Well, I mean, it's not like I'm a rocket scientist or something. I'm just a cheerleader. There's not much of a career in that."
"You can be anything you want to be," Ross said simply. From anyone else, it might've sounded like one of those public service announcements on Saturday morning TV, but Ross really believed what he was saying.
Rachel considered this for a moment. Then she stood up. "I'll be right back," she said in a soft voice. She returned a moment later holding a thick notebook.
She sat on the concrete ground at Ross's feet and paused. She looked hesitant. "I'm afraid you're going to laugh or think this is a really immature thing to do."
"Not if it's important to you I won't," Ross said seriously.
"Okay. These are just some looks I put together from different fashion magazines," Rachel opened the book to a page with a pasted together model in a bright red shirt and a plaid skirt. She flipped through several more pages. "See, shoulder pads are really in this season, but I don't think it's a trend that will last. They're pretty tacky." She looked up at Ross. "You're really not into this, are you?" she asked.
"It's...really not my thing," Ross stammered. He never thought very much about what he wore, but Rachel...she talked about clothes with a passion he'd never seen her express before. "Who's that?" he asked, pointing to a close up photograph of a girl who looked like Rachel, but not quite.
"Oh," Rachel seemed a little embarrassed. "That's me with Christie Brinkley's nose and Cindy Crawford's mouth. I'm getting a nose job as soon as I turn 18."
"You don't need to do that. Don't you pay attention on all those field trips we take to the Met? No artist wants to paint a picture of some girl with a boring, square nose. Look at Madame X, or Athena, or Modigliani's paintings. Those subjects had such a quiet dignity about them. They wouldn't have been as interesting with another nose." Ross's face lit up more and more as he talked.
Rachel smiled and shook her head. "So you really like museums and history and stuff, huh? How come?"
Ross shrugged, suddenly embarrassed. "Why do you like fashion?"
Rachel's eyes took on a dreamy look. "You can change who you are when you change your look. You can be whoever you want to be."
"Who are you, really?" The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them. Now she would probably laugh at him and tell all her friends what a dork he was. Who but Ross would sit around on a Saturday night asking questions like that?
But instead Rachel looked down at her crossed legs. Maybe she didn't know how to answer. It suddenly occurred to Ross that he really had no idea why he loved Rachel. He just did. Before today, he wouldn't have been able to come up with many good qualities that she possessed besides the fact that he was attracted to her. But right now, he had to at least try.
"You're loyal to your friends," Ross blurted out, thinking of Monica. "You have the ability to make most people like you. That," Ross admitted, "is a quality I would like to have. And I think you have the drive and determination to work in the fashion field someday if you really worked at it."
Rachel looked at him intently. "You really believe that, don't you?"
Ross returned her gaze. "Yes, I really do. Show me the rest of your book?" he asked.
Some time later Ross looked at his watch. It was already close to midnight. "Well, I'd better get going before my parents send someone over here. You know how they are."
"Do you really have to go?" Rachel found herself saying. She didn't know why. She'd been dreading this day all week.
"Yeah, I'd better," said Ross, walking backwards toward the side gate. He stumbled over his feet, nearly falling down. So much for his plan to be smooth. As they talked tonight, he had totally forgotten he was supposed to act cool. Now he only had one more date to try and make Rachel fall in love with him.
Thanks for reading!