When It's Love

Christopher Booker, in his "Why We Tell Stories," lists seven basic story plots, and declares that all others are variations of the seven:

* Overcoming the Monster

* Rags to Riches

* The Quest

* Voyage and Return

* Rebirth

* Comedy

* Tragedy.

Don't know if I believe that, but it sounds reasonable. Certainly, there are favorite plot devices, and one of those is written endlessly: "Boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy finds girl again." There will be certain elements of those seven plot types in this story, especially the "boy meets girl..." one. If that seems like something you would enjoy, read on. If not, this would be a good time to click the back button. I am putting this in LW because the site moderator has ruled that fiancées count. If you have a problem with that, take it up with her, not me. If you complain in the comments after my warnings, I'll just delete that shit. Randi.

This is my entry in the "When A Man Loves a Woman" writing event. I must thank my team. Harddaysknight is my mentor and gives me critical review. My readers and editors are Cagivagurl, Hooked1957, SBrooks103x, Stev2244 and Hale1. I thank you all.

When she walked into the room, there was a momentary silence, a hiccup in the normally raucous din that was Professor Wade's class before he arrived. He was a huge hairy man, and although he was a great teacher, funny, kind, there was a certain "You don't want to fuck with this man" air about him. He wasn't there yet, and the basketball players at the back were talking to each other in their too loud tones, trying to impress their hommies and whatever girls thought they were hot.

When I looked around at the sudden hush, supposing Wade had come in, this was something different. She was tall, nearly six feet, I guessed, long dark hair with auburn tints that hung down past her butt in soft heavy waves. Her face could have easily launched the legendary thousand ships. Her jeans were strategically ripped, showing the smooth tanned skin of her legs inside. She had on a T-shirt that said "Thunderbolts and lightning, very, very frightening, me!" on the front. It was signed "Galileo," and had a picture of the astronomer on it.

I loved the shirt, and what was inside was spectacular. God, she was gorgeous. The jeans were filled out to perfection, too. She looked around the room, and one of the douchebags in the back shot off his mouth. "Hey, hotness, we got a chair back here."

The look she shot him froze him in mid-word, as it were, and she walked toward the front. Toward me! I always sat in the front so I wouldn't be distracted. The chair beside me was empty, and the goddess pulled off her backpack, set it carefully on the floor and sat down. As she moved past me, I caught a subtle wafting of her perfume.

It was Creed, Wind Flowers. I knew that scent because my sister wore it, and I knew how much it cost from buying gifts for Allie. She looked over at me and the dark tan of her complexion lit up in a brilliant, blinding smile.

"Hi, I'm Donovan," she said. "Don't call me Donna."

I tried to speak, but a really stupid sounding croak was all that emerged from my paralyzed vocal cords. She laughed.

I cleared my throat and tried again. "No, I won't," I said. "I'm Shaw. You can call me Shaw."

She laughed, stuck out her hand and long slender cool fingers clasped mine. I just couldn't believe how lucky my day had just become. Professor Wade came in just then, and she whispered, "Umm, Shaw, I'm gonna need that hand to take notes."

I suddenly realized I was still holding her hand, and it was hideously embarrassing, then suddenly hilarious as we laughed together. Wade shot us a look as he put down his bag. "You okay over there, Shaw?"

I calmed down. "Yeah, I'm good."

He looked at Donovan and did a double-take. "Yes, I can see that you are," he said.

He started his lecture and we had a little debate. It was a Western Civ class, and there was a dozen or so of us who had a blast in Wade's classes. To my surprise, Donovan joined right in, and she was quick! She knew what she thought and wasn't shy at all about saying it.

She used her iPad to take notes and I saw that she was recording the lecture. We were putting away our shit after class and she said, "Shaw, do you not take notes?"

"Umm... no, I listen."

"Never take notes?"

"No, I don't really need them, Donovan."

"What's your GPA?" she asked.

I laughed. "Gee, you sure ask a lot of questions, Donovan. Is there some reason you need to know my GPA?"

She blushed a little, and it did amazing things to her complexion. "Sorry, I just transferred here and I'm scouting for study buddies."

"It's 3.84," I said.

"What did you get the B in?" she asked.

It was my turn to be embarrassed. "Well, I hate to tell you, but it was Human Sexuality. How did you know it was just one?"

"I did the math," she said, then she burst into laughter. I joined her after a minute, then she tucked her hand into my arm and walked me out. "Stick with me, tiger," she said. "We'll work on that sexuality thing. I'm really good at it."

I could easily believe she was. She was the embodiment of sexuality, and sensuality, screaming out in foot-high neon letters, "I am a goddess."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Well, this is my last class," I said. "I was going over to the student union to play ping-pong. They have a table tennis tournament every semester, and I'm playing."

"Are you any good?" she asked.

"I haven't lost a game in seven years," I said. "Do you play?"

"I do," she said. "I've lost in the last seven years, though. Let's go. I'll be your cheering section."

On the way over I learned that her last name was Mace, that her father was some sort of big shot with the university, that he had an endowed chair in humanities and that they'd moved from San Diego, where she grew up.

"Have you lived here all your life?" she asked.

"All of it I remember," I told her. "I was born in Portland, but we moved here when I was like two. My dad works for Raytheon Missile Systems."

"What's your major?" she asked.

"It's electronic engineering. I have a minor in philosophy. Since my first dream of majoring in human sexuality has been shattered, engineering seemed like the only choice."

She laughed. "You have a great sense of humor," she said. She leaned in and whispered confidingly, "You're kinda hot, too."

I was struck dumb by that, and searched desperately for some witty remark. She saved me. "I'm a biochemistry major. I want to do drug research."

"Well, that does sound interesting, and I'm sure you'll be amazing at it," I said.

"Tell me about not taking notes."

"Well, I have a very good memory," I said. "I tried taking notes, but it just seemed to distract me from the lecture and I do better just listening. If there's something like lists or terms, I get those, but I kinda have my system down."

"Will you study with me?" she asked.

"I'll do anything with you you'll let me," I assured her.

She smiled adoringly up at me and I decided if she needed anyone killed, I was her hookup.

I knew the other players in the tournament pretty well. We all played together and joked around together. I think they were a little shocked when I came in with Donovan on my arm. I introduced her around and we played to get me warmed up.

She was a very good player. I figured she could beat most of the guys in the tournament. She used a shallow shakehand grip, and I used a penhold grip I had learned from a Chinese roommate I'd once had.

She got me sweating, and it was time for my first game. I won easily, and we got drinks and watched some of the other games. Celia Langford asked Donovan if she wanted to play a game, and I watched as Donovan demolished her.

I got a friend of mine, Curtis, in the second round and he was the second-best player in the tournament. It was a shame, really, because he probably would have made the final if he had been luckier in the draw.

It was close, as it always was when I played him, but I also won, as always.

The third game was pretty easy, and I won the $100 prize. Donovan came up, molded all that hotness against me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, now you can afford to take me out to dinner," she said.

"I would be happy to take the lady out to dinner," I said. "What time, and where would you like me to pick you up?"

She gave me her details and we agreed to eat at 7, which meant I'd be picking her up at 6:30. She kissed my cheek again and she was gone, the faint scent of the Wind Flowers the only reminder that she left behind.

I went home in a daze. I could think of nothing but that glorious woman, girl, enchantress. I had no idea why she'd chosen me, but she obviously had. I wasn't a total loser. I knew I looked okay and had never had any trouble getting dates. I was tall, so even as tall as she was, that wasn't going to be an issue. I worked out, and had since I was in the eighth grade. I lifted heavy, had some muscles going on and maybe she liked that. Whatever it was, I was seriously smitten and felt like the king of the world.

She had been gorgeous in her school clothes, but dressed to go out, she was just stunning. She had on a creamy tan sweater dress with both shoulders bare. It crossed on a line across her amazing breasts, sculpting her stunning body, showing off her round luscious ass. What an ass it was, too. God, it drove me mad, made me want to walk behind her just so I could watch it.

She knew what she looked like; she wasn't as conceited about it as most beautiful women of my acquaintance, but she showed what she had. I didn't know anyone who looked like she did, though.

I helped her in. I had one of the new Ford Broncos, the Black Diamond with the Sasquatch package, it was a little high and I got a good look at about a mile of tan muscular incredible legs. She got settled in, and I went around and climbed in. "Nice," she said. "Do you have a job, Shaw? How did you afford this?"

"No job," I said. "I had one all lined up, but my father got involved. I told you he works at Raytheon, and he's a big deal over there. He told me he wanted me to concentrate on my education and 'being a kid.' He offered me any car I wanted, within reason, and this was what I wanted. I like prowling around out in the desert, and this baby is the ticket. He also pays my rent and gives me spending money, again, within reason. I like this baby." I patted the dash.

"What about you?"

"Well, I don't actually have a 'job,' but I get paid."

"For?"

"I attend social functions with Dad. I'm kinda like the hostess, and they pay me well."

"Ah, does your mom not like schmoozing?"

"I have no idea," she said. "I haven't seen her in like 10 years."

"Oh... sorry. I guess I put my foot in it."

She laughed. "Not a deal. You couldn't know."

"My mom and dad are divorced," I said. "I lived with Mom until last year, but Dad is still around and I see a good bit of him. They kind of just drifted apart. They aren't like enemies, or anything."

"Where do you live now?" she asked.

"I have an apartment and a roommate. Keith is a computer geek. He's a good guy, just kinda awkward."

I knew she must live with her father, because I'd picked her up at a nice house, and it wasn't a place where a student would live by herself.

I took her to The Grill at Hacienda Del Sol. I had reservations and we were right on time. "Umm... Donovan, are you old enough for drinks?" I asked.

She giggled. "Yes, I'm 23. You?"

"Yeah, 24," I said.

The meal was great and the company was even better. I had to ask. "Donovan, are we just gonna be study buddies, or can I ask you out on dates? Do you have a boyfriend?"

She took my hand and squeezed it. "No boyfriend. Are you applying for the position?"

I laughed. "Hell yes. I mean, God, Donovan, who wouldn't?"

She smiled and blushed a little. "That's very sweet. I'd love to go on dates with you, and be study buddies, but I'm not ready to be like in a serious relationship, you know? I'm 23, I am going to finish my degree, apply to graduate school, start my career before I'm ready for anything like that. Do you understand that, I mean, are you cool with it?"

"I do," I said. "I kind of have the same plans."

When I took her home, I got the first kiss on my lips, the first taste of those lusciously plush sweet lips. I would remember it for the rest of my life, I was sure.

I saw her every Monday, Wednesday and Friday in Wade's class, and she always made it a point to sit with me. We met at my apartment to study on Thursdays, and we usually went on dates on Friday and Saturday nights.

She occasionally had some university function to attend with her father on one of the weekend nights. I wondered what those were like, but since I wasn't in that circle, I never knew. I met her father, and although I liked him well enough, and he seemed okay with me, I knew the first time I met him we were never going to be close.

He was one of those guys who were impressed with their own credentials, everyone had to call him Dr. Mace and he was pompous and pretentious. I constantly wondered how such a self-important ass ever raised a daughter like Donovan. She seemed to love him and got along with him, and he and I tolerated each other.

She was hard to read, sometimes. We spent quite a bit of time together, but I really knew very little about how she spent her time when we weren't together. That bothered me a little, but she was completely devoted to me when we were. She had a way about her when she focused on you that made you feel like you were the only person on earth.

There was very little talk between us about what, exactly, we were. Were we boyfriend and girlfriend? Were we just friends who hung out, or was there more? Everyone who knew us both seemed to be under the impression that we were a couple, but I wondered, so I brought it out in the open.

"Donovan, are you my girlfriend?" I asked one day in the car on the way home from a movie.

"Do you want me to be?" she asked.

"Am I nuts? Of course I do."

"Well, you do have to ask people if you want to know shit," she said.

"I think I just did."

"No, you didn't," she insisted. "You asked me if I am. If you want me to be your girlfriend, you have to ask me to be your girlfriend."

"Donovan, will you be my girlfriend?"

She slipped her hand into my free one. "I thought I already was," she said, shooting me a side-eye look.

"Oh, my God!" I had to laugh. "You are the most infuriating person!"

She giggled. "Yes. You know that's what a relationship is, right?"

"What?" I asked.

"When you're having a conversation and suddenly you find yourself sighing in regret. I mean, you still love them, and shit, but they just said something so bat-shit crazy that you regret you know them. Then they giggle like a crazed gremlin and think of the next totally weirded-out thing they're going to say when you finally come up with a clap back."

"You are a nut," I said. "Something is seriously wrong with you. But since I'm holding you captive in the car, that gives me a chance to ask you again, do you want to be my girlfriend, Donovan?"

"Oh, yes, can I?"

I nodded. "It's official."

"What will we do now that it's official?" she asked.

"Anything we want," I said.

"Can I pick something?" she asked.

"Your wish is my command."

"Okay, how long have we known each other, Shaw?"

"Years," I said.

She laughed. "No, really."

"Hmm... four months and 19 days," I said.

"Wow, Shaw, impressive! You know to the day. I think that's long enough," she said. "I want to spend the night with you."

"Are you serious?"

She shot me one of her looks, one eyebrow raised. "Have you not even thought about it? Look at me. I'm cute!"

I had to laugh. "Yes, I know. You are way more than cute, Donovan. You're the hottest woman I've ever seen. Hell yes, I've thought about it. Christ, I think of little else. I just... I didn't know you would want to go there right now."

"Listen, clueless, what the fuck would I have to do? I spend most of my time with you. I make out with you every time you take me home. Jesus, Shaw, I rub my tiddies on you constantly and I was beginning to think you were gay."

I laughed. "Well, I'm not. I just... you're not like any other girl I've ever met, Donovan. I was going to wait however long it took. You're special to me and I didn't want to do anything to... pressure you or scare you off."

"Aww, that's so sweet," she said. "You aren't going to scare me off. I think you're special, too. That's why I want to spend the night with you. I think I love you, Shaw. I'm not a slut. I only make love to people I think there is a possibility of loving."

I was dumbstruck. Jesus! She thought she loved me? Well, I was certain I loved her, and I felt like the luckiest guy on the planet at that moment.

"Take me home," she said. "I gotta get my stuff and tell Dad."

That one threw me. "Really? You're going to tell him... you're spending the night with me?"

"No, not you, specifically, although he'll know. I'll be getting into your car. I'm a grown-ass woman. I don't need to tell him everything I'm doing, but I do need to tell him I won't be home. That's just respect."

"Yes, I agree," I said. "Is he going to be pissed at me?"

"I have no idea," she said. "I don't care, do you?"

"Well, I don't want to be kicked out of school or anything," I said.

She laughed. "He's not going to be that pissed. Forget about him."

I didn't want to go in and discover just how pissed off he was, so I stayed in the Bronco while she ran in. It took her about 15 minutes, and I got out my phone and put Van Halen's "When It's Love," on.

Donovan came out with her bag, threw it in the back seat and closed the door just as the synth opening ended, Eddie Van Halen kicked off the guitar and Sammy Hagar started singing.

"Oh, my God! This my jam," she said, reaching over and cranking the volume. We rocked along to that classic and she sang, her sweet little voice a perfect counterpoint. "Sing with me!" she demanded.

A singer, I was not, but I did my best. We pulled into the driveway and let the song play. She had tears in her eyes as it finished. "Shaw, this is our song," she said. "When it's love. Do you think it is? How do you know when it's love?"

"It's just something you feel together," I said.

She burst out laughing. "I guess that's the answer," she said. She leaned across and her huge eyes were so close it was hard to focus. "Do you feel it?" she whispered.

"I think I do." I slipped my fingers into the mane of her hair and kissed her. I let her out, grabbed her bag and we headed up. Keith was home, playing a game on the PS5. She squealed as she saw he was playing the new "Forespoken" game.

"How did you get this?" she asked.

"I have sources," he said. She sat down beside him and watched while I put her bag in my bedroom.

I opened two IPAs, and joined them. They had become buddies, and Keith had lost his usual paralysis around women with her. He actually talked to her, which was rare for him.

"I need to run to the grocery store," I said. "You wanna come, or stay, Donovan?"

"Stay," she said. "Keith might let me play."

"Oh, yeah. Let me clear this, then you can go," he said.

"You need anything, Keith?" I asked.

"Nah, I'm good."

I made my run, and when I got back Donovan was playing while he gave her instructions. I smiled and started dinner. I could hear them while I worked, squabbling like they were little kids about what they should do next.

I had it nearly finished when she came into the kitchen. "Smells yummy," she said. "What can I do?"

"Pour wine," I told her. "The bottle's over there breathing. Yell at Keith and tell him five minutes."