The Girl Next Door

I got an apartment with my friend Dave that summer and worked three jobs while learning those first hard lessons of how to be an adult out in the real world. It's almost impossible to get a driver's license while you're still in foster care, but now I was able to complete that task and buy a rolling wreck for five-hundred dollars.

I was working better than eighty hours a week, so at least I had no opportunity to get myself in trouble with booze, drugs or women. As a matter of fact, I'd been so devoted to studying, football and working to save money for college, that I hadn't taken the time during high school to date. (Not having a car hadn't helped either.) I'd never even been to first base. But hey, that's what college was for, right?

That summer seemed to go on forever, but my first day of university classes did finally roll around. I'd gone through registration and bought my books and materials, cringing at the stupendous cost of such things. I'd also been forced to move from my cheap apartment into a smaller, more crowded, and far more expensive dorm room.

The dorms were required for freshmen not living at home, and my protestations that I had already proven that I was mature enough to continue living in an off-campus apartment fell on deaf ears. College was going to be even more expensive than I'd thought.

My first three courses that morning were Calculus, Physics and Chemistry, all of which looked to be fun, but challenging. My fourth class was English, a subject in which I'd consistently excelled, but ultimately found dreary. I had no ambitions to pursue any sort of career in which writing was a major part, and I figured that this course would be a yawn-fest.

Like a lot of general education courses, English 101 was a Monday/Wednesday/Friday class, held in one of the largest lecture halls on campus, requiring that the instructor use a microphone to be heard by the mass of students.

I'd taken a seat in the middle of the seventh row and had just pulled out a fresh notebook and pen when I saw her walk in. My jaw dropped and I couldn't help but stare. She had thick, shiny brunette hair, a cute and friendly-looking face, a saucy little butt in snug fitting jeans, and small but high and nicely rounded breasts under her form-fitting green sweater.

I'd never had a "love at first sight" reaction before, but I was definitely having one now. I'd always figured I was too smart to go totally head over heels for a girl just because of her looks, but damn, she was perfect. The thought went through my head that maybe I should have dated in high school. At least then I'd have had a clue on how to handle this situation.

I hoped that fate would have her come up and sit next to me, but fate is a fickle wench and my little cutie found a seat in the crowded front row, offset about three seats to my left. The seat next to her was open and I considered going down there and taking it, but that seemed a bit forward. Instead, I decided to just keep an eye on her while I tried to figure out a more nuanced approach.

Then the professor stepped up to the podium and I grudgingly decided to concentrate on the matter at hand.

Since this was college now, I was expecting a challenge, but I quickly realized by the way he was starting out that the expected level of competency from my fellow students was pretty low. I'd definitely be able to cruise to an easy A, so I tuned out my instructor and concentrated on my little second row vixen. I could see by the laborious notes she was taking that English probably didn't come as easily to her. Still, she was so perfectly built to my tastes...

"Oops," the teacher said, drawing my attention back from the brunette, "it looks like I left my transparencies in my office. I'll be back in two minutes." With that, he went out the door. Conversations started up all over the hall.

"Hey, you should stop drooling on your desk," a feminine voice said from my right.

"Huh?" I turned toward the owner of said voice. I'd been so preoccupied that I hadn't even seen her come in.

"You're going to make a lot of extra work for the janitor," she added.

The girl sitting next to me was tall, blond, blue eyed, stacked and gorgeous. She could have graced the cover of Maxim magazine. Beauty is a very subjective thing, though, and while most of the guys in the room would probably have considered giving up a testicle for the chance to spend some quality time with her, she was just about everything I wasn't looking for.

Somehow, from a young age, I'd always gravitated toward girls like the petite brunette in the second row. Maybe they seemed less intimidating, or maybe it was because there's some sort of Freudian thing that makes guys want a girl who reminds them of their mother. Whatever, the blond bombshell sitting next to me wasn't my cup of tea.

She had a friendly smile, though, and I could tell that she wasn't going to bust my chops too bad for staring at the brunette. Oddly, the fact that she was so hot made me more comfortable with her, because even if she'd been more to my taste, I wouldn't have had a chance with her anyway.

"Sorry about that," I said. "I hope I didn't get any on you." I smiled back and pretended to wipe the desk with my sleeve.

She made a show of checking her clothes for wet spots, then looked back up at me. "So you fancy that skinny little thing in green down there?" Despite the words, her tone was light and non-judgmental.

I shrugged, which evidently told her all she needed to know.

"You're not her type," she warned.

"And how would you know that?"

"You're just looking at her. A guy who was her type would have taken that seat next to her and asked her out before class even started."

"And how would you know anything about her?"

"She was saving that seat for me. Angie lived next door to me the whole time I was growing up. She's also my best friend and dorm roommate."

"Oh," I said, taken aback. "What were the chances of that?"

"Better than you think, actually. When I walked in, I saw you staring at her, so I decided to come up here and have some fun with you."

I nodded. "I guess I must have been pretty obvious about it."

"Uh, yeah."

"So now that you've given me crap for ogling your best friend, are you going to go back down there, take your saved seat, and tell her that she has a pervert for a secret admirer?"

"No, I can keep a secret, and you don't seem too perverted. Besides, I kind of like the view from up here myself."

I could see her focusing on something down in front and it wasn't difficult to figure out what. As usual in a liberal arts class, the girls had filled most of the seats in the front rows. There was only one guy in that direction. At the moment he was turned toward us, talking to the short, chubby girl behind him, He was tall, ruggedly handsome, and in fifteen years you could have put a hat on him and he'd have been a dead ringer for the Marlboro Man. My blonde neighbor would look perfect on his arm. He was sitting two rows behind Angie.

"The guy in the black polo?"

"That's the one."

"You're kidding. That's Dirk. He's my roommate."

"No!" I could see the wheels turning, figuring the odds on that. They would have been astronomical. "Would you set me up with him?" she finally asked.

I shook my head. "Dirk only likes flat-chested Latinas."

I'd thought I had decent chops as an actor, but she saw right through me and gave me the crusties. "Okay," I admitted with a guilty smile. "I've never met the guy."

She giggled and gave my shoulder a gentle shove. "Jerk."

The professor cleared his throat and continued his lecture before I could reply.

I actually managed to pay a modicum of attention for the rest of the hour, not looking down too often at Angie. I noticed that Blondie had seemed to put Mister Studly on the back burner as well. Still, when class was over, we both tried to get to the front to at least get a closer look at our respective crushes. Unfortunately, the aisles filled quickly and they were long gone before we even got close.

"There's always Wednesday," I sighed as we walked out into the noonday sun.

"Yup," she said with a wink. "Maybe I'll see you then." She turned and headed for the parking lot.

"Bye..." I realized that I hadn't even gotten her name.

She was so not my type that it actually surprised me when I caught myself watching her as she walked away. She was wearing jeans that really showed off her curvaceous butt and hips. Her walk had that sway and wiggle that gets most guys turned on, but seemed faintly ridiculous to me. Still, I liked her sense of humor and she was easy to talk to. I could see us being friends.

By Wednesday I had worked up my courage and was ready to snag a seat next to Angie, but my previous class was a long walk away. By the time I arrived, both she and the Marlboro Man trainee had grabbed seats in the already full front row. Angie was evidently not going to save a seat for her roomie if Kim wasn't going to sit with her anyway.

I sighed and took my same seat in the seventh row, then watched as the buxom blonde walked in and saw the same thing I had. With resignation, she looked up at me. I was gratified to see at least a little bit of a smile on her face. I smiled too.

"Damn," she murmured by way of a greeting as she slid into the seat next to mine, "he's gonna get out the door before I can catch him again. My class before this is clear across campus and I can't get here any sooner. I think I'm gonna take an early restroom break today and ambush him as he comes out the door."

"I know a better way for you to meet him."

She peeled her eyes off the hunk and looked at me. "And that is?"

"He works at the university book store weekdays between 4:00 and 8:00. His name is Todd, by the way."

"You're not messing with me again, are you?"

"Nope."

"And just how did you find this out?"

"Well, it didn't take any great sleuthing on my part. I just went in to buy a pack of colored pencils and there he was, working the register. I saw his name tag and checked the work schedule on the bulletin board behind the counter."

"Cheater! I am going to pay him a little visit this evening, though."

"Good luck."

"And now I owe you, uh..."

"I'm Connor."

"And I'm Kim."

"I know how you could repay that favor, Kim."

She rolled her eyes and gave me a look that said pale, freckled redheads weren't any more her taste than she was mine.

"No, not that," I said, blushing bright pink, as I was wont to do. I was too much of a gentleman to purposely imply such a transaction. "I was actually thinking you could set me up with Angie."

"Uh, I think I should warn you that Angie and I are opposites in outlook, behavior and personality at least as much as we're opposites in looks."

Wow, that was a lot of opposites. "I still want to meet her," I insisted.

"I'm telling you, she's not your type." She said that like it was a good thing.

"I'll take my chances."

She shrugged. "Okay, I'll see if she can do lunch with me after class on Friday. You can tag along."

"Deal."

Kim split off to hit the ladies room as we filed out and I wasn't even trying to catch up with Angie as I walked out of the building, but there she was, just outside the door. She was a good three feet off the ground with her legs wrapped around the waist of a guy who must have been at least a foot taller than me – and double my weight if he was an ounce. He looked like he could play nose tackle on the football team.

She was kissing him in a way that earns a movie an automatic PG-13 rating, and the meaty hand supporting her was kneading her butt cheek. My eyes got wide when I realized that his other hand was mauling one of her little breasts.

Though I was woefully inexperienced with women, I didn't consider myself a prude, but I was shocked at her behavior, making out like that in public. After two days of fantasizing, my mental picture of who Angie was had been totally blown away.

I kept my disappointment to myself and locked my eyes front and center as I calmly walked right past them, but I couldn't help overhear his deep, booming voice ask her a question.

"Ever fuck an offensive lineman in a men's room stall?"

I gulped as she giggled. "No, just a quarterback and a couple of defensive ends."

"Well you're about to," he said. I would have thought they were just joking around if I hadn't looked back and seen him throw her over his shoulder and carry her squealing back into the building. She was obviously enjoying herself.

I was surprised at how much it hurt to have been so wrong about Angie, but Kim had been right, I wasn't her type. And that was a good thing.

On Friday I didn't even bother checking to see where Angie was sitting, automatically taking my seat in the seventh row. Kim joined me a couple of minutes later. It didn't escape my notice that she wasn't gazing at Todd, either.

"Hey you," I said, genuinely happy to see her.

"Hey yourself," she said, returning my smile.

"So how'd it go with Todd?"

"Oh, he's a wonderful guy. Smart, attractive, friendly, unattached, and he's an accounting major like me."

"Hey, sounds about perfect."

"Sure, except that he's gay."

"Gay?"

"Yup. He was pretty up front about it. Evidently he gets propositioned by girls on a regular basis."

"Gee, I'm sorry. Who'da thunk it?"

"I wouldn't have guessed it either."

"Well, It's still too bad that it didn't work out."

"Not a big deal. Are you ready to meet Angie? She's doing lunch with me."

"About that..."

"Yes?"

"I don't think she's really my type."

"Told you so, but why the sudden revelation?"

I told Kim what I'd seen. "You know, that kind of surprises me," she said thoughtfully.

"Really?"

"Yeah, Angie was a grade ahead of me growing up, so this is her second freshman year. To hear her talk about it, I'd have thought she'd already slept with half of the offensive line. You'd have to figure that at least one of those had been in a men's room stall."

I sniggered.

Kim giggled at my reaction. "Sorry," she said with a cute smile, "but I call 'em how I see 'em. She's my best friend, but I don't condone that kind of behavior."

"So you're not planning on sleeping with the other half of the offensive line?"

"Nope. I'll leave them for her."

I kept half an ear tuned to the droning professor while I did my Calculus homework and Kim studied an accounting text. Meanwhile, most of our fellow students were taking notes on basic parts of English that I thought they really should have picked up by the fifth grade. This class was going to be a waste, but it wasn't one you could test out of.

Afterward, per their agreement, Kim led the way down to the front of the classroom to hook up with Angie for lunch. I noted that the little brunette looked even better up close. Despite knowing that she really wasn't my type, I could feel a disturbance in my shorts.

"Wow," Angie said to Kim as we walked up, "this professor is great. I never understood that stuff before."

"Yeah," Kim said, "I never knew the difference between a verb and an adverb either."

"Cut the bullshit," Angie said while she rolled her eyes. "Not all of us can be fucking geniuses."

"Look Angie," Kim continued, seemingly unperturbed by her friend's foul mouth, "Connor here has asked me to lunch. You mind if I take a rain check?"

Angie seemed to notice me for the first time, but I could tell that my face would be lost to her as soon as we parted. "Uh, no, that's fine," she said.

"See you tonight then."

As we walked out, Kim apologized. "Sorry I used you to lie to her, but I don't want to distract Angie from studying if I can avoid it. The last thing she needs is a third freshmen year and that was the easiest way to cut her loose from our lunch date."

"I don't mind at all. It would be weird sitting across the table from her, thinking about her having sex on a toilet with a guy who barely fits through the stall's doorway."

"Thanks for that image, Connor," she said with a grimace and a cute little giggle.

"Don't mention it. Look Kim, I actually wouldn't mind doing lunch with you, if that's okay? We can study while we eat if you want."

"Sure, as long as it's Dutch."

We grabbed a couple of burgers at the Student Union and managed to snag a table for two. Neither of us felt the need to study during lunch after all, having just done an hour of homework during class. Instead, we spent the time getting to know each other.

Kim had grown up in Peoria, a small Illinois town about three hours away. She had a ton of family there. Parents, grandparents, great grandparents, aunts, uncles, and more cousins than she could shake a stick at. Not to mention her parents and five older brothers. I envied her that.

Kim's goal was to be a CPA, a mind-numbingly boring career in my opinion, but she insisted that after learning how to do the books for her dad's plumbing business, she'd found that she really enjoyed working with columns of figures.

"I like the program here," she said between bites. "They gave me a decent scholarship too. My college fund should cover most of my expenses and I've already found a job teaching a couple of afternoon yoga classes at a local health club."

"Yoga? How did you learn to do that?" The image of a stacked plumber's daughter from Peoria teaching yoga just didn't compute.

"My mom is totally into that kind of thing. My dad caused quite a stir when he brought her home from Berkeley in '69. She really had to tone down the hippy stuff around her in-laws, but she's had me doing yoga since I was three."

"Wow," I murmured. This girl was full of surprises.

"So now that you know all about me, tell me about yourself, Connor."

So I related how I'd lived the first ten years of my life in a nice, middle-class Chicago suburb as the only child of wonderful and loving parents. I'd been a pretty typical kid. I got good grades, liked sports, rode bikes with my friends, and had a dog who slept on my bed every night.

"Sounds pretty nice," she said. It did.

But then I had to tell her about the accident. I kept it as clean and antiseptic as possible, but her eyes got wide and her hand came across the table to hold mine as I related the tale. Per my vow, I didn't tell her about my last words with my father.

"So I was in five different foster homes, in and around Chicago, for the next eight years," I finished.

"You didn't have any relatives to take you in?" I could understand her incredulity, since she'd evidently been surrounded by herds of family for her whole life.

I shook my head. "My folks both came up in the foster care system themselves. As a matter of fact, they always said that what drew them together was that they were the only foster kids in their senior class. They were able to understand each other on that level better than anyone else ever could."

"What about your dog? What happened to him?"

Gulp. "Pets aren't allowed to go with kids into foster care. They told me Boomer went to the shelter, but I was never able to find out if he got a new home or if he was put down." I did my best not to show the pain.

It should have been a small thing, compared to losing my parents, but it gnawed at me. I'd been in diapers when we got Boomer and he'd always been my constant companion and best friend. I never even got to say goodbye to him, and the poor old guy would have had no idea why he'd been taken away from his people and his home.

Kim was obviously feeling some of my pain. "Wow, that whole thing is so sad," she said, wiping a tear.

I realized that my story had been a major downer for what was supposed to have been a light and casual lunch, so I put on a smile, which was made much easier by the fact that I was sitting across the table from such a gorgeous girl.