Dallas (Time for Tammy #1) (5 page)

Kellen and Corrie ended up going to the University of Michigan, like half of our graduating class. I chose tiny Eckhart, not only for its marine biology program, but also because it was practically on the other side of the country from my twin and her boyfriend.

“Where are you going?” I asked. Instead of heading back to the dorm, Jane strolled toward the center of the complex.

“The computer lab. I’m going to settle this thing once and for all.”

I meekly followed her. She sat down and logged on. I didn’t even bother to ask what she was writing, but stood behind her so I could see the screen.

HEY.

I’M REALLY SORRY THAT WE DIDN’T MEET UP AT DINNER. I WAS ACTUALLY THERE BUT

Here she paused and looked over at me.

I DIDN’T GET A CHANCE TO TALK TO YOU. WE MET (SORT OF) LAST WEEK. I’M THE GIRL WHO WAS TOO LOUD AT LUNCH—THE RED-HAIRED ONE. MY NAME IS JANE.

She hit SEND and started to log off again when an e-mail popped up in her inbox from Nester Tsai.

“Is that him?” I asked. He must have been sitting right by the computer, checking to see why his secret admirer was a no-show.

She clicked to open the message. “See?” she said, sitting back satisfactorily and pointed to the screen.

I REMEMBER YOU. I’M SO GLAD YOU REMEMBER ME. MY NAME IS NESTER. WHAT IF WE MEET FOR DINNER TOMORROW AT 6?

TOMORROW AT 6 THEN, Jane typed back.

Chapter 4: A Horse of Course

N
ow that the Dadian—aka Nester—knew exactly who Jane was, there was no excuse for us to not meet for dinner. The next day, Jane and I repeated the previous day’s primping for hours beforehand. Linda also decided to join us at the last minute, although she didn’t bother to change out of her pink oversized Tinkerbell T-shirt and rolled-up khaki shorts.

This time when Nester entered the cafeteria, he waved to us and then sat down next to Jane after getting food. He acted much friendlier than his appearance and first impression would predict. He told us he expected Number Two and Two’s roommate, mentioning them both by name: Two’s name was actually Ian, and his roommate’s name was Dallas.

“Oh, I know Dallas,” Linda piped up. “He’s in my Heritage class.”

“Who’s Dallas again?” I asked.

“Him,” Nester said, indicating the blue-eyed boy who was now walking toward us.

The guy named Dallas sat down at the table, nodding at Linda as he said “Hi, Pam.”

Nester glared at him. “It’s not Pam, dumbass. It’s...” he turned toward my roommate.

“Linda,” she supplied.

“And this is Jane,” he said, gesturing toward her. “And this is...”

“Tammy,” Dallas said.

Whoa.
He can’t remember Linda’s name even though she’s in his class, so how did he know my name? We’ve never met before. I decided it must be because his roommate, Number Two/Ian, had already confessed his undying love toward me.

Dallas picked at the food on his tray in silence. His plate appeared to contain pepper strips from the salad bar with nothing else, not even lettuce. The glass sitting next to it held some sort of purple liquid. He didn’t say anything else, although I felt him glance in my direction at least once. He left after devouring a couple of peppers and draining his glass of purple juice.

Jane and I were engrossed in Nester’s conversation about playing basketball in Trinidad when I suddenly became aware of a tray being held in my peripheral vision. I looked up. Ian was standing there, seemingly bathed in a halo of light. He asked if he could sit down, in the seat next to Jane.

“No,” Nester said meanly. “You sit there,” and pointed to the end of the table, two chairs away from anyone else. Ian did as he was told.

Jane was digging in to her dessert when Ian finally spoke up. He asked her what kind of pie she was eating.

“It’s Boston Cream Pie,” she replied.

“Oh really? Are you from Boston?” he asked.

“No,” she replied slowly, enunciating every word as she glanced at me. “Rhode Island.”

“Oh.”

Jane gave me a muffled smile, and I could see she was thinking, “Is this guy for real?”

Okay, so he was dumb, but he was still cute.

Ian pointed to his disgusting pile of food. “This is a horseshoe. It’s what people from the Midwest eat.” The mess appeared to be cheese fries piled on top of a hamburger patty.

Now was my chance to finally speak up. “I’m from Michigan, and I’ve never seen that thing in my life,” I offered in my best flirtatious voice.

“Horseshoe? You've never seen a horseshoe before?” Despite the fact that his mouth was full of the aforementioned French fries, I could detect the hint of a southern accent as he pointed at his food, his fingers covered in ketchup. My attempt to flirt apparently went over his tall frame.

He took a swig from his glass and swallowed audibly. “What part of Michigan are you from?”

“The suburbs.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m from down South.”

“I thought you said you were from Illinois. Illinois isn’t the South.”

“I’m from Southern Illinois,” he said, as if that explained everything.

Jane was giving him the once-over. “Are those…cowboy boots?” she asked distastefully, glancing down to his feet.

“Yep,” he said proudly, flexing his leg.

“Are you sure you’re from the Midwest?” I asked him redundantly. No one I knew ever wore cowboy boots.

“Born and raised,” he said, his mouth full again.

“So what is there to do in Southern Illinois?” Jane inquired.

“Sex and drugs,” Ian replied, as a half-chewed French-fry hung from his mouth.

“You do drugs?”

“Well, no.”

“So you had a lot of sex?” Jane asked with another glimpse in my direction. Ian, following her lead, also looked at me, causing my face to heat up as I avoided his eyes.

“Nah, not really,” Ian replied, turning back to his quickly receding horseshoe.

Well, I guess we at least have that in common.
Despite the fact that we both hailed from the same general area, it was starting to feel like we were worlds apart.

“I think I like him,” I confided to Jane on our walk home.

“Who? Garth Brooks? What an idiot!”

I shrugged, picturing those large brown eyes. “I thought he was cute. Maybe a little naíve, but I could get used to it. What about Nester?”

Jane shrugged. “He’s alright. But I’m not sure I want a boyfriend right off the bat. You know, I don’t want to commit right away.”

“I wouldn’t mind a boyfriend.”

“Well, if you like him that much, you should ask him out.” Jane declared.

“Yeah right.”

“Now!” she said, once again veering toward the computer lab instead of heading towards Gandhi.

“What will I say?”

“Honestly, Tammy, haven’t you ever asked a guy out before?”

“Of course.”
No.

She sat down at a computer and rocked the mouse back and forth so the screensaver paused. She pointed at the empty computer beside her, so I did the same. I logged into my e-mail and then stretched my fingers over the keyboard, searching for something to write.

“Look,” Jane said, gesturing toward a flyer hanging on the door of the computer lab. “You should invite him to that.”

“A comedienne?”

“Why not?”

Why not indeed?
I thought, quickly typing out the invitation as Jane leaned over me, staring at the computer monitor.

HEY,

IT’S TAMMY, THE GIRL FROM DINNER TONIGHT. I WAS WONDERING, IF YOU WEREN’T DOING ANYTHING, IF YOU’D LIKE TO GO SEE THE COMEDIENNE (I had to spell-check that one). IF YOU WANT TO, JUST STOP BY GANDHI TOMORROW NIGHT BEFORE 7 AND WE’LL GO.

IT WAS NICE MEETING YOU,

TAMMY

I tried to emulate Jane and didn’t even hesitate before clicking SEND.

“Do you think he knows it’s from you?” Jane asked.

I swiveled my head toward her. “You don’t think he knows it was me?” I turned back to the computer to try to retrieve my SENT mail.

“Tammy, relax, I’m kidding. You said your name like twelve times.”

I tried to keep my fingers from belying my
Holy- Shit-what-did-I-just-do?
internal reaction as I logged off. But now the invitation was out there, in cyber space, with my name on it multiple times and instantly delivered into Ian’s inbox.
I had asked a guy out!

I returned to the lab twice that night to nervously check for a reply. At 9:30 there was finally a message from him.

SOUNDS GREAT. I’LL SEE YOU AT 7.

IAN

And just like that I finally had my first date!

I had almost run out of clothes to wear, having previously worn my two best sundresses to our dinner meet-and-greets (or meet-and-not-greet as was the case the first night). I settled for a T-shirt and jeans in an attempt to look casual, but spent a few extra minutes on my make-up.

At 6:30, I parked my butt in my desk chair and stared out at the pathway between Delta and Alpha. A few stragglers walked across the quad, but other than that, the campus seemed empty. Another fifteen minutes went by. Jane walked in to check if he was there yet. I shook my head.

“It’s times like these when I wish I still drank,” she replied.

At 6:50. I started walking out of the dorm every couple minutes to make sure he wasn’t coming from the other direction. The outside doors are locked at night, but each has a keypad. Every dorm in the complex has the same code, and most people just ask someone in the computer lab what the code is. But if no one was around, Ian wouldn’t be able to get in the dorm. So I wanted to make sure he wasn’t standing outside, locked out.

He wasn’t. Seven o’clock came and went; Ian didn’t show.

“You should call him,” Jane said when she came in again a few minutes later.

I diligently found the Freshmen Directory and looked up his number. I grabbed the portable phone off Linda’s bed and hit the power button. But then I lost my nerve. I turned the phone off and tossed it back on the bed. “Whatever. I’m over it.”

“Are you ready to go?” Jane asked Linda. She grabbed a sweater and her key. The two of them were almost out of the door when I called for them to wait up for me. Maybe Ian and I had got our e-mail wires crossed, and he would be at the theater already, with a seat saved just for me.

He didn’t appear there either.

Afterward, I waited outside our dorm on the picnic tables, in hopeless anticipation that he’d come by with an apology. Around midnight, I finally realized I had been stood up on what should have been my first date.

“Typical,” I thought. I finally worked up the courage to ask out a guy, and then he didn’t show. To top it off, I had spotted my former roommate, LaVerne at the comedienne, sitting next to Eric.

I stared at my Mark Hamill poster as I got undressed. Linda and I had the habit of facing the opposite directions when we changed clothes, although I didn’t have to be self-conscious right then, as she was already in bed. It seemed like Mark’s grin was slightly leering tonight.
If only Mark could step off my closet door, we could go to all the comediennes we wanted to. He could give me my first kiss and I wouldn’t have to feel so naíve and scared anymore.
But Mark remained, as ever, motionless, the leering grin unwavering.

I checked my e-mail regularly the next few days, expecting an apology to appear in my inbox. Every day when I would arrive at the dorm with still no e-mail, Jane would give Ian a new nickname. First it was “Puss n’ Boots,” than “Dumb,” followed by “Dumber,” and then, after a week with no apology, Number Two officially became “Sonofabitch.”

The nicknames only cheered me up temporarily.

Finally Jane declared, “Tammy, you do realize he’s just a piece of Number Two, right?”

“You mean, I didn’t get a piece of Number Two?”

“No.” She rolled her eyes at Linda. “Like, a piece of shit from the middle of nowhere Illinois. So what if he’s a basketball player? He’s as dumb as a box of rocks. I mean, c’mon. You’re better than him.”

“Yeah, but he still stood me up. And I’ve never been stood up before.”

“If it bothers you this much you should just go over to his dorm room and talk to him. Like, shoot the shit. Number Two style,” Jane grinned as she lifted her chin at Linda, who hid a smile behind her hand.

“Yeah, because confronting him worked so well for me before.” I sat back in my chair and folded my arms over my chest.

“Well, you should do something to figure this out.”

“Right.” I was too afraid to tell Jane I just didn’t
talk to
guys. Especially not guys that obviously didn’t want to talk to me. Why else would he have stood me up? But then, if he didn’t want to go with me, why would he write me back that he did? He could have just ignored me or politely brushed me off. Why would he say yes and then not show?

Why?
Why
? WHY?

After mulling it over the next weekend, I realized I really did want an explanation, if only to heal my bruised ego. Maybe one of his teammates had a basketball emergency.

I spent all day Sunday working up the courage to go to the Delta complex and knock on Ian’s door.

“I wish you drank,” Jane told me in the early evening. “I’d totally offer you a shot right now.”

“I’m ready anyway,” I told her and my roommate.

“It’s now or never,” Linda said. She didn’t know how right she was.

“Cheers,” I replied. I didn’t even bother to check my hair in the mirror before leaving.

I started off merely wanting to get an answer, but on the way over, I began to get mad. Really mad. How dare he stand me up and then not even bother to offer me an excuse? I marched over to Delta’s computer lab and got the code for the complex. I steeled myself to punch the code into Ibsen’s door and enter the dorm. I remembered from before that Ian’s room was the first one on the right. I banged on the door before I could psyche myself out and leave.

His roommate, Dallas, answered.

“Where’s Ian?” I demanded, ready to barge into their room.

Dallas didn’t even flinch at the loudness of my voice or my brash attitude. “He isn’t here, Tammy.”