I'm Normally Perfect (re-upload)

Chapter Six

When I awoke the morning of our lunch it was still dark out. I groped for my glasses—nine thirty. Thunder rumbled and the quad looked like a marsh. Not exactly what I had in mind for our first official day together. I went with black jeans and a dark green turtleneck and did my hair in the most complicated braided bun I could manage. Some deliberation later, I applied mascara and a light tint of lipstick my mother'd given me before dropping me off at the airport, 'Ya have t' give them somethin' to look at, or why else will any boys take an interest in ya?'

I'd placed the containers at the back of my desk drawer where they lay forgotten until a nerve-induced cleaning jag the previous evening. I got the mascara in place easily enough (though must say the instrument intended to curl lashes is not for amateurs), but the lip colour was another issue altogether. The problem was less to do with the actual tube and more to do with my lips: I don't have any. After much applying and removing and reapplying I was unsure if I had any on or if the rubbing had merely had a darkening effect.

There was a knock at the door and I checked the clock, ten forty-five. She was early. My stomach butterflies fluttered into full force. I checked my reflection again, took a deep breath and tried to modulate my tone to somewhere lower than adolescent. 'Yes?'

Babs poked her pigtailed head with its obligatory beam in, 'Are you decent?' Her face fell as she registered my entirely decent state, 'Wowwee.' She pushed the door open; she was still in her pyjamas. They were pink with bunnies on. 'Don't you look...nice? Whatcha up to? Gotta date?' She drew the word "date" out.

I grunted, 'No. Just having lunch with someone.' I tried for haughty, 'Not that it is any of your concern,' and patted the underside of my bun twice.

A knowing look came across her face, 'Well, you're pretty done up for "just lunch"?' She did the accompanying quote hand gestures. I hate when people do that.

I returned to the mirror and pretended to scrutinise my make-up in the hope that she'd leave. 'Yes, well, one does want to look one's best.'

'Is this a recent revelation?'

I turned to confront her, but before I could speak Alex appeared in the doorway, 'Hello. Less than ideal weather, I'm afraid.' She noticed Babs, 'I hope I'm not interrupting anything.'

I smiled and waved her in, 'Not at all, please come in. This is Barbara Peterson, my neighbour across the hall. Babs, this is Professor Pristin.'

Alex nodded. Babs seemed confused, 'Hiya?'

Alex gave her the once-over then asked pleasantly, 'It is nice at the weekends, not to have to worry over one's appearance, isn't it?' She turned, 'I hope you've a mac. It's wretched out.'

I pulled on my raincoat, 'Should I bring a bumbershoot?'

'I haven't a clue what that is.' She smiled when I showed her. 'We do call them umbrellas, you know.'

'I know, I just like saying "bumbershoot" it sounds like something you'd find in Narnia or through the looking glass or something.' Alex laughed.

Babs looked from one of us to the other, 'Better get back to my books, see you later?' She turned to Alex, 'Nice to meet you?'

Alex asked seriously, 'Was it?'

'Uh, yes?'

Alex gave a small smile and watched Babs wander off before addressing me, 'I can't understand why you don't enjoy spending time with your fellow students.'

I retrieved my bag. 'It's a mystery.'

Outside, Alex held her umbrella over us. 'Where did you learn that word?'