I'm Normally Perfect (re-upload)

Chapter Twelve

Next morning Alex arrived in an upbeat mood, 'Hey, you.'

'Hello.' I took a bag and handed one to her. 'Let's go.'

She looked at the duffel, 'Is this everything?'

'Yep. I took nearly everything last weekend.' I locked my door and turned my keys in at Mr Phipps' lodge. When we got to the car Robert was loitering near the passenger's side.

'Hey Cate. Hi, Professor Pristin.'

'Robert.' She went to her side and put my bag on the back seat.

When he didn't say anything I asked, 'Yes?'

'I wanted to wish you a good break and all that.' He checked over his shoulder, where Alex was watching over the roof of the car. He whispered, 'I'm going to miss you.'

I nodded, not knowing what to say, I wasn't going to miss him. 'All right. Well, I'll be back in a month. See you then.'

'All right.'

We stared at one another. 'You know, you standing in front of the passenger door is something of an impediment to my getting into the car.'

'Oh, sorry.' He stepped to one side and I opened the door and got in. Robert watched us until we were out of sight.

'So, what exactly did you two do last night?'

'Nothing. I don't know what that was about. What a freak.'

'That's a bit harsh, don't you think? Love makes people do weird things.' I groaned and she asked, 'You really don't believe he loves you?'

'No, I do not. Especially after last night.'

'What happened?'

'I was as cold as possible.'

'Why?'

'I don't know. I just didn't want him to think we were together. A couple or whatever.'

'Why would that be so terrible?'

'Because we're not. And I don't want him thinking things that aren't true. Guys tend to think you're theirs if you let them buy you dinner or something. He seemed put out that I wanted to pay for my own dinner. Why is that such an insult to their masculinity?'

'You paid for your own meal?'

'Yes.'

'If they want to pay then let them. You get a free meal and they feel like they've done their job as men.'

'They also expect things.'

'Oh, come on, Catherine.'

'They do. There's this unspoken...something that says, "I paid for dinner, you owe me". And there's a word for that: Prostitution. What's the difference?'

'Well...I suppose the difference is that a prostitute would be compelled by monetary gain, whereas you would do it because you wanted to.'

'I would? What if I didn't, but went along with it because of some societal pressure to be easy to get along with?'

'That's sad. And inexcusable for a man to make you feel that way. You shouldn't do something out of a sense of obligation, something that makes you feel uncomfortable.'

'That's my theory.'

We motored along. 'How, exactly, did you tell him you were uninterested in...' She cast about for an appropriate word.

'Smoochies?'

She laughed, 'Yes, smoochies. Which I think might be my new favourite word.'

'I just made sure there were five or six feet between us at all times and did the Ice Maiden thing for most of the evening. I honestly thought he wouldn't speak to me again, but there he was this morning.' I shook my head, 'I give up. I'll never understand them.'