The Girl in the Boys' Dorms

Chapter Seventeen: Wilted lettuce and Bella stories... a perfect first date.

The Girl in the Boys' Dorms - Chapter Seventeen: Eggplant diamondbacks, wilted lettuce, and stories all about Bella... now that's what I call a perfect fake first date. Not.

You know, I never realized just how odd of a couple Chase and I made, until we were together, wearing clothes other than our usual school uniforms.

Chase, though not as suave and formal as Evan, looked like a model right out of an Abercrombie and Fitch catalogue. His dark jeans hung off his hips at the perfect angle, tight in all the right places; the moss green t-shirt he had chosen was barely visible between the unzipped sides of his white jacket, but still managed to compliment his tan skin and offset his emerald eyes; even his shoes were more stylish than mine, with green stripes across the white leather to match his clothes. His hair was the same, though, and that was something I could appreciate. It was nice to see that Chase wasn’t a mannequin stolen out of a department store display window, but that he was real - and the disheveled strands of his blond hair poking into his indifferent irises did the trick.

I, on the other hand, appeared a mess when compared to Chase’s designer, well-groomed form. As I stared at myself in the mirror, I regretted declining Bella’s offer of taking me shopping for new clothes to bring here with me. Before leaving for North Shore, she had said that she would drive us to the mall and help me pick out some cute things, but I had refused outright - after all, the idea of having to go on a pretend date with an extremely attractive boy who was also my roommate had never crossed my mind at the time. So now, here I was, sporting ripped, light blue jeans, beneath a hideous sweatshirt the color of eggplants. Because it was almost the middle of October, which meant, in New York, it wasn’t cold enough to snow, but that there was still a distinct chill in the air, I had been forced to dig out some sort of light coat from my bag. And that had left me with two options; either the heavy, padded winter coat that made me look like a walking snowman, or the sweatshirt I had gotten from my school last year, which had our mascot - a snake poised to attack, since we were the Nebraska High School Diamondbacks - plastered on the front. Well, after intensive deliberation, I had picked the latter.

Champions Since 2004: Diamondback Pride!

That was the logo printed in big, bold, silver letters on the front of the sweatshirt. Oh, what were we champions in? No, not football or baseball or any other normal sport. Our rodeo team was what seemed to bring in the most awards. Yes, my old high school, back in my home state of Nebraska, had a rodeo team.

But if anyone asked, I was going to tell them we were reigning champs in swimming. Because although the sport wasn’t too popular around here, it sounded much more impressive than saying that I had come from a school which had held the state title for cattle roping.

Taking a deep breath, I turned the knob of the bathroom door, bracing myself for Chase’s reaction. I knew he would fuss over my wardrobe choices and my battered Converse sneakers and the fact that my wavy black hair was tied up in a messy bun, with my bangs framing my makeup-less face. Promising myself that I wouldn’t be offended by his snide remarks, I squared my shoulders, and stepped outside.

Giving me a quick onceover, Chase looked directly into my eyes, his lips set in a grim line, and muttered, “You should’ve chosen the coat.”

But when I caught the corners of his mouth twitching with laughter, I felt myself smile, and my insides swelled with a kind of warmth that I hadn’t experienced around Chase before. It was refreshing to know that, even though he was often a hard shell of arrogance, he could still be normal every once in a while. Feeling suddenly more relaxed, I stuck my tongue out at him, pleased to see that rather than scolding me for my immaturity, Chase chuckled, and returned the gesture.