Sounds Good Ch. 05

But there were other features that stood out: her mouth was a bit wide, because the corners of her mouth seemed to go on and on. I actually looked it up; those grooves were called 'commissures'. Well, Ronnie had the longest oral 'commissures' I'd ever seen.

Her nose wasn't huge, but it was a bit too big for her face. On the plus side, Ronnie had lovely dark eyes, and long dark brown hair. But she wasn't what you'd call a 'classic beauty'.

The first few times I looked at Snogg's illustrations of her, I noticed these little flaws.

Then I began to wonder about them. Why had Snogg drawn her that way? He didn't make many mistakes, and he could certainly draw beautiful faces - as he had with all four of the other roommates.

The only conclusion I could come to was that Snogg had used photographs of models as the sources for his subjects. They were based on real people. And so was Ronnie - except that she wasn't a model.

That made Veronica much more interesting to me. After a very short time, I began to see her in another light. She looked ... different. I don't know how else to put it. It didn't take long, following her story, before I realized that I found Ronnie very attractive.

Very soon after that, I changed my mind again: Veronica could very well be a model, too. There was something about her ... her look was unique: part exotic, part unusual.

But all of my musings about her face came second, after I'd already discovered a very good reason to become fascinated with Ronnie: her voice.

Heather, as I've said, sounded like sunshine and open windows. Nalani was smooth, almost silky, with careful enunciation. Michelle's voice was warm and friendly; Laura could stop me in my tracks when she spoke her own name. La-ow-ra.

Ronnie's voice was a little deeper, rich and throaty. It took me a little longer to fully appreciate it. But I slowly began to prefer hearing her dialogue over everyone else's.

I can only compare it to music. Sometimes you hear a song for the first time, and it immediately appeals to you. A catchy tune, a beat, or a lyric that sticks out. Then, after hearing it 65 times, you don't really want to hear it again - yet the radio stations are still playing the shit out of it.

On the other hand, there's the song you hear without really noticing it. Back in our D&D days, Mike used to play a few of his favourite tunes in the background. After listening to one of them several times, I asked him who the band was.

He told me, and I promptly forgot.

The next time he played them, I asked again. Then I got him to email me several links to these groups. Most of them were what you would call acquired tastes. There are several artists like that: their music may not leap out at you right away, but once it sinks in, you're probably a fan for life.

That was how I stood with Ronnie. I found her more and more attractive every time I saw an illustration of her (even if I'd seen it three or four times before). And her voice grew on me, until I found it powerfully appealing.

Yes, I assigned her the role of the athlete, just to see what she looked like in a swimsuit. I was pleasantly surprised. She didn't 'rock' the bikini, but she definitely looked more feminine.

Then I started a new game, and made her the waitress. It was the role I associated with her, because she'd been that through four full games.

She began to grow on me, to the point where I thought about her all day. I had to replay every scene where she spoke, just to hear her voice repeat the words I'd already heard. I was becoming slightly obsessive.

I tried to discipline myself. No 'Bird in the Hand' in the afternoon. I had to wait until after dinner, just in case someone called with an IT issue. In the meantime, I assiduously monitored the IT tickets, to see if anyone in Personnel had a problem.

Mr. Barron's people would probably never have called me on their own. But when I got to see the tickets they submitted to their own IT department, I recognized some of their issues right away.

One of them only required a quick phone call. I talked the employee through her problem, and had it solved in under twenty minutes - and fifteen of those were spent trying to persuade her to let me help her.

Another was remarkably simple to address; the only difficulty was getting the employee to let me use the remote access. They simply weren't willing to grant it to me.

I had to call my mother in on that one. Fortunately, she and I worked in the same office - our house.

- "I can solve this for you." she said. "But let's try to fix it so that I won't have to do this again."

She got on the phone with Mr Barron. I don't know why Mom had so much pull, but she got Barron and the stubborn employee to sit in front of the computer screen, and grant me access.

As I solved the issue, I explained what I was doing over the phone. There were only a few simple steps.

- "That's it?" said Mr. Barron.

- "Yes, Sir. That's it. Would you like me to show you again? Then, if this problem re-occurs - which it probably will - you'll be able to fix it on your own."

- "Yes, please." he said, very emphatically.

Obviously, Mr Barron knew the difference between buying a fish dinner and getting his own fishing rod.

Mom kissed me on the forehead.

- "I'm so proud of you." she said. "And not just because you're making me look good."

***

Ronnie worked Tuesday night to Saturday night; Sunday and Monday were her only days off. But she didn't start her shift until late in the afternoon. I began relentlessly stalking her, so that I would know where to find her.

I was surprised to discover that there was no distinct pattern. She might be at the cafe, sipping a latte, but she could just as easily be at the bakery. If she was at the University Library on Wednesday morning, there was absolutely no guarantee that she'd be there the following Wednesday.

When I saw her at the bakery, I chose to approach her.

- Hey, Ronnie.

- Oh - hey. No smile. No expression of interest. Snogg's render showed her busily studying the bakery's bill of fare - that is, looking away from me.

- Those buns look nice. Maybe I should get some for the apartment. No, it wasn't a double entendre. The bakery's buns probably looked and smelled great. Ronnie's buns were barely noticeable.

- Yeah, that would be great. she said. Total disinterest.

Is it any wonder that I was madly infatuated with her?

Just kidding. I knew that she was more difficult to approach. One morning, I saw her at the cafe. When I asked if she'd mind if I joined her, she waved a hand at the next chair.

We chatted. We had a conversation. And when it was over, I knew no more about her than I had when I walked in. She didn't volunteer to tell me her personal history (as Heather and Nalani had), nor did she seem very curious about me.

She was a mystery. An enigma. It didn't matter: every time I saw her face, every time I heard her voice, I was getting hooked just a little deeper.

Finally, I reached the point I'd been waiting for: according to the computer in my room, Ronnie had reached the stage where she was 'intrigued'.

I asked her to go to the cafe with me for lunch.

- My treat, of course.

- Sorry, Tristan. I've got a million things to do today before I go to work.

What? I was stunned. That's not supposed to happen. Is it?

I rolled back. There it was - no doubt about it. She'd turned me down. I was given some new dialogue options.

- I understand. How about tomorrow, then?

- Don't think I can tomorrow, either. Sorry.

There were no options for me after that. I couldn't quite believe what I'd heard - and read. I re-loaded to the last auto save (the game saved every day). Then I double-checked the computer inventory. Yes - Intrigued.

I approached Ronnie again. The first two lines were identical. A million things to do she said. So I chose another option in response.

- Well, what would be a good time for you?

- I'm really swamped for the next few days. Sorry.

Well, that was definite. Ronnie was saying 'no'. Loud and Clear. I didn't have the slightest idea what to do next. After thinking about it for a long time, and getting absolutely nowhere, I turned off the game, and played solitaire for an hour or so before going to bed.

***

I'm really swamped for the next few days, she'd said. Maybe that wasn't just an excuse. I re-loaded the game, went through that rejection one more time, and then ... I worked. My intention was just to make some money, and see what happened.

Of course, I must have checked Ronnie's status three times a day. Still 'Intrigued', for what that was worth.

Two days after turning me down, Ronnie came to see me.

- Hey, Tristan. You free on Sunday?

I had a couple of options. One was fairly pathetic. I chose a careful one.

- Maybe. Why?

- If you are, I thought we could go for lunch at the cafe, like you said.

My options were limited:

I don't think so. I'm swamped.

Why?

Are you sure, this time?

Sounds good.

The first response sounded snarky. The third was closest to what I wanted to say, except for those last two words, which made it sound slightly petulant. I definitely wanted to know 'Why?', but I had to hope that I'd find out later.

Why she would say 'No' when I asked, and then turn around and ask me out two days later? Ronnie was definitely more complicated than the other roommates. I was going to need patience to unravel her mystery - or mysteries.

Hah - Patience. Was the writer's pen-name a clue on how to play her game?

- Sounds good. I replied.

I was more than a little confused. Still - we were going on a date. Sort of.

I simply worked and slept for two days, until Sunday. Ronnie and I walked to the cafe. Snogg showed her wearing a rather plain grey dress. I didn't care: I only had eyes for her lovely face.

Patience gave me several conversation options. I backed up, and saved the game, in case I screwed up again. But there was one opening line that appealed to me.

- Can I ask you something, Ronnie?

- If you want.

- Why did you say no when I asked you out? You said that you were too busy - and yet ... here we are.

I heard Ronnie let out a deep breath.

- I'm sorry about that. When you asked ... I didn't know what to say. I wanted to, but I wasn't sure. I needed time to think. That's why I said 'No'.

- You weren't sure? But ... it's just lunch.

She laughed. Just lunch? I don't think so. How many of our roommates have you asked out to lunch? Or are you going to ask all of us, starting in reverse alphabetical order?

- No. Just you.

- Just me? Then it's not just a lunch, is it? It's a date.

- Well ... yes.

Snogg's picture of Ronnie was nothing short of masterful. It showed only her face, which I now considered very pretty. But it was her expression that fascinated me.

She was almost smiling - but not quite. It wasn't a smirk, or anything like that. Ronnie just looked like ... well, like someone who was enjoying the conversation.

- Can I ask you something? she began. Are you familiar with what was said about American soldiers in Europe after World War 2?

I did know that. I was able to select the correct answer.

- You mean the three things wrong with Yanks: 'They're overpaid, oversexed, and over here'?

She laughed. I forgot that one. No, I was thinking more about how American soldiers thought that European girls were 'fast'.

- Fast?

- Back home, a guy might get a goodnight kiss on the 2nd or 3rd date. A couple could progress to 'necking', but it might be months before they got to second base. American women were expected to be 'good' girls.

Whereas, European women were ready to have sex right after the first kiss.

- They were?

- Sounds fast, right? Slutty, even. But here's the thing: European girls thought that American soldiers were 'fast' - because they wanted to kiss on the first date. To them, kissing was something you did once you were sure that you wanted to go to bed with him.

- Ah. I get it. I understood the story, but not why Ronnie was telling it.

- I didn't want you to get the wrong idea. she explained. I said 'yes' to a guy once. He thought that by agreeing to go on a date, that I was also committing to have sex with him.

- I wasn't ...

- I know.

My first date was entirely unlike the dates with the other roommates. I had absolutely no idea where I stood with Ronnie.

- Thanks for the coffee. she said, afterwards. I had a good time.

And that was it. No sex scene of any kind. Not even a kiss.

And yet ... I had enjoyed the date, too. I reloaded and played it again, just to watch that expression on her face as I listened to her voice.

***

Heather and Nalani had pretty much told me everything I needed to know on our first date. Michelle and Laura had dropped plenty of clues even before we went out. Ronnie was different: she didn't come with a road map or guide book.

I didn't know whether to take Patience to task for making things so difficult, or to congratulate her for creating such an interesting character - and making it difficult.

In most dating sims, the girls are stereotypes at best, and cardboard cut-outs at worst. In some games, they're just attractive bimbos who will have sex with the main character no matter what he says or does.

It's about as challenging as spitting in the ocean. There's no sense of achievement whatsoever; you might as well skip the game and go straight to porn.

Other games are plagued with a mysterious path to success, where you have to be a perfect gentleman in the first 2 dialogues, and then an arrogant asshole in the next. There's no logic or pattern to these choices; trial and error is the only way forward - unless some kind soul has been good enough to compile a walkthrough.

There are similar games where the dialogue options may make sense, but you must be in exactly the right place at the right time to use them. How the hell am I supposed to know that I have to go to the bank at 2 p.m. on Tuesday to advance my romance?

A Bird in the Hand had none of these problems. The girls were easy to find, most of the time, thanks to the calendar. You could fail, but only by deliberately choosing the worst options, or by pursuing multiple relationships at once (with one exception, of course).

Basically, all you had to do was be a decent guy. Is that so hard?

But Ronnie demanded a little extra Patience, and a little more perseverance.

I asked her out a second time, suggesting a drink at the pub on Saturday evening - one of her nights off.

- Sure. she said. Sounds good.

Laura steered us to a good table, in a relatively quiet corner. We talked - mostly about me, as it turned out - until she surprised me with a question.

- Can I ask you something else?

- Be my guest.

- Why did you ask me out?

That's not such an easy question to answer, for a guy. Sometimes, the real answer isn't all that pretty:

Because your sister turned me down

Because I'm dying to get into your pants

Because I've already had sex with all of the other roommates - you're next!

Thankfully, those weren't the options that Patience provided. There were a few reasonable choices, even if they struck me as a bit too direct. But Ronnie seemed to prefer honest, no matter how blunt, so I gave it a go.

- Well, I'm attracted to you. (That sounded better to me than 'I find you interesting'.)

- Attracted?

Thankfully, Patience had added a little wrinkle to my next response. There was the usual list of options - but I could choose more than one.

I told Ronnie that she was unusual. That I found her very appealing. That I enjoyed spending time with her, and, finally, that I didn't know anyone quite like her.

I wish that I could've added one more truth: that I loved her voice. I made a note to suggest that to Patience.

- You seem to have given the matter quite a bit of thought.

- I think about you all the time.

There was another illustration of Ronnie, with that almost smile.

- That's a nice reason. she said. Did you know about the concert in the park next Sunday? Maybe we should go together.

- Sounds good to me. I answered, trying to play it cool.

We returned to the apartment after a couple of drinks. Ronnie stopped, just outside the door.

- Just so you know, Tristan - I'm not European.

Then she kissed me.

Nice illustration by Snogg. I went to bed happy.

***

The concert was no big deal. We sat on the grass together, listening to the music. Then there was a brief interlude.

To my surprise, Ronnie reached out and took my hand.

- I like being with you, too. she said.

She held my hand through the second half of the concert.

***

I composed another audio review. I knew that I wasn't very far from the end. By that point, I'd have seen virtually all of the content, and I could do a critique of the whole game. But I wanted to share my thoughts on Ronnie's story.

Snogg's work was great, as usual. But I praised Patience for creating a unique and memorable character, and for making Ronnie more of a challenge.

I also asked her to congratulate the voice actor playing Ronnie. No disrespect to the others, I said, but she has the most wonderful voice.

Then I returned to the game. I had the opportunity to ask Ronnie out again, but there was no new dialogue. Nothing changed, then, until the night of the Halloween party.

Ronnie went as a witch. She had the tall, pointed hat, and a black cloak. She'd made herself a horrible fake nose, with a pair of disgusting warts. She'd even blacked out a couple of her teeth.

- You look amazing. I told her.

Her only response was to cackle: Thank you, dearie.

Laura looked gruesome. Ronnie had aimed more at repellent. But I saw those familiar lips, with their extra-wide corners, and those dark eyes I'd come to know. To me, she looked fantastic. And, of course, there was her voice.

We danced, and I held her close.

She couldn't help but feel my reaction - just below my broad belt.

- Really? she whispered. You're turned on by this costume?

- Not the costume. What's under it. I replied. (And your voice, I wish I could have added.)

- Are you sure it isn't just the nose?

- Quite sure.

- Good. she said. Then she proceeded to grab a handful of my ass.

She kissed me. We made quite a mess of her fake nose; part of it stuck to my cheek.

When the party was over, Ronnie wanted to help clean up. I was certainly game to pitch in. But Michelle nixed that idea.

- Ronnie, you need to clean yourself up, first. We can get started while you take care of that nose - among other things.

I seconded the motion, so Ronnie went to the bathroom, while Michelle and I cleaned up the apartment.

- I'm really pleased for both of you. said Michelle. You two look great together.

That was nice to hear.

- Thank you.

- Ah - there's your witch. said Michelle, as Ronnie returned.

- You guys finished everything without me. she complained.

- You can clean the bathroom tomorrow. said Michelle. G'night, you two.