Teach Me To Love

Chapter 6

Suzanne shuffled in bed, annoyed by the sound of her  phone ringing loudly at five am the next morning. She barely managed to resist the urge to reach for it and hurl it across the room. Her sentiments were shared by her none-too-happy roommates. They both rolled over, covered their heads with their pillows, and clamored, "Shut that damn thing up! Its early!"

The ringing continued, unperturbed by their protest. When Suzanne realised the caller was quite persistent; she waved her arms blindly in an effort to grab the phone. By some miracle with her eyes half closed she managed to retrieve the device and answered it.

"Hi, Anne. How are you?" a chirpy voice floated through the speakers.

"Its early," Suzanne grumbled.

"I know, I'm sorry. It was either now, or after eleven last night. I really wanted to talk to you," her mother related. "You didn't answer me the first time - how are you?"

"I'm trying, Mom. Trying to keep it together, trying to get triggers to remember things, trying against all odds to complete university," Suzanne answered truthfully.

"I believe you can do all those things, Anne," her mother encouraged.

"Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome, Sweetie. Are you sure you are going to be alright on campus? In the apartment?" she inquired worriedly.

"I will be fine. I have Allison and Kate in the apartment. They are countless guys on campus. What else do I need?" Suzanne asked humorlessly. The question stood in a short abyss of silence. They both knew knew the answer, yet neither dared to utter a word about it.

"You will find whatever else you need in time," her mother reassured.

"I love you, Mom," Suzanne said and smiled when her mother responded. It never got old to know how much people cared for her, no matter what life decided to throw her way. The brief exchange made her almost forget about waking before time. She began to prepare for her first day of academic work for the school year with new found strength, hope and motivation.

Suzanne went through the usual daily routine many of the other university students had: brush her teeth, showered, found an outfit for the day and packed the books she needed for her lectures. Then she did a few not many others did: she reviewed  her list of activities she needed for the day - highlighted the most important ones, and ensured that she placed the small sound recorder her mother bought her within easy reach in her bag.

After eating a small breakfast. Suzanne walked into the management room quite ahead of time. She took a seat in a corner close to the front. Which worked in her favor in more ways than one. Things were going her way for quite sometime and she was grateful that the day looked like it was going to be one of the rare good ones she had in a while.

One thing she had learned though, was that life chose one's happiest moments to throw its dark pebbles their way, for in an flash everything went downhill.

The instant Suzanne walked out of the room she knew something was wrong.

Very wrong.

There was no possible way she could have walked into a wall after just exiting the door. The events which preceded took place in only a few fleeting seconds there was no way to avoid it. She barely saw the outline of an individual before they crashed into her.

Suzanne didn't fall though.

Neither did her books, they were clutched tightly to her chest.

"I am so sorry, Suzanne, I didn't see you there before--"

The walking wall turned out to be Thomas. He began to give her a series of apologises. She would have too if she was him, because colliding into someone you fancy nearly knocking them over was definitely not a way to gain their esteem. Suzanne wasn't focusing much on his words though, because her gaze was strained down the corridor.

The recorder had slipped out of her pocket and skidded across the concreted floor. Only to stop at the feet of none other than the university's record holding womanizer. She watched horrified, as he bent down and picked it up.

"Its okay, Thomas," Suzanne said.

"Suzanne, I am really so--"

Suzanne didn't stay long enough to hear how sorry Thomas was. She knew it was an accident. Instead she rushed toward the unbelievably attractive male who held her recorder in his hands and tried to come up with a logical reason except for the obvious one why she had one with her.

"A sound recorder?" Lenard asked, as he examined the device.

"Yes and I would like to have it back now," Suzanne answered and stretched out her right hand to collect it.

"You will have it--" Lenard paused, "--when you agree to go out with me tonight," he finished with an impudent smile plastered on his face.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Suzanne said firmly.

"I don't see who wouldn't want to go out with me for dinner. I always give much more than you bargained for," Lenard said with haughtiness.

"I don't," Suzanne informed.

"Well then its still a win for me. I will get to listen to all the recordings you have here. And it surely seems like you have something to hide."

Suzanne's stomach clenched unpleasantly.

No.

He couldn't hear them. She had recordings of herself which would be definite giveaways.

No.

She couldn't go out with him.

Why?

He was Lenard Valentin. The name itself screamed trouble and walking one nightstand, but she had to choose one. It was either a secret that could tarnish her opportunity of getting what she wanted, or a date with him.

She decided her secret was more valuable. Going out with him couldn't be that bad right?

"Okay. We will go out and eat, nothing more," Suzanne gave in.

"I wonder what you have to hide so badly that made you agree to go out with me so easily?" Lenard inquired curiously.

"You should not be curious about things that don't concern you," Suzanne replied.

It was only later that day when she was back in her apartment Suzanne realized exactly what she had done. The night would have been quite an entertaining one had it been someone else going with him and she was a mere spectator.

All Suzanne could do was trust herself to remember to resist his efforts. That thought was not reassuring at all, not with her distorted memory.