Getting to Third Date (12 page)

But Richie had reminded me that I needed something to do this weekend. And if I used these tickets, I could do Richie and the theater department two favors. I could provide four people for the audience. And I could make Tyler—or the paper—spring for two more tickets. Minor revenge and minor reparation, at the same time.

He shook his head and left me with this parting shot. “Better the Band-Aid method, like you used with me—and you never know, you might be surprised. Mother Hubbard might have been right. Girls who like strawberry milk may charm a clueless crush, if they give it a chance.”

Strawberry milk. I looked into his eyes. Did he know I was Mother Hubbard? I'd forgotten I'd mentioned the strawberry milk in one of my very first columns. So, no stalker, just a secret admirer who liked girls who liked strawberry milk. Just Richie. He smiled at me, but I couldn't tell if he'd put two and two together and got Katelyn equals Mother Hubbard. I smiled back, and as he turned to walk away, I was almost tempted to ask. But if I did, then he would know. He was no dummy. And really, I wasn't the only girl on campus who liked strawberry milk.

The room felt about ten degrees cooler after he walked away, and I realized I'd been sweating. So had he, judging by the little stain on his shirt at the small of his back. Ain't misaimed love grand?

So maybe he knew my secret and maybe he didn't, but I definitely knew his. Although, come to think of it, if he'd come right out and told me he wanted to go out with me, was it a secret anymore? Not that I had time to worry about it. I still had to find Stephen. And I didn't have much time left.

I looked at the tickets in my hand. At least it turned out okay. He didn't hate me, and he knew I wasn't going to say yes. So he'd be better off finding a new lady to love him, I hoped—after all, he'd finally found the courage to let me know how he felt. But whether I would ask Tyler out? That was another matter. Fortunately, it was one I didn't need to worry about at the moment. I had a mission to accomplish.

I spent a second evening staking out the store at the student union and caught Stephen as he was picking up a big bag of barbecue potato chips and a liter of soda.

Happily, or not, he said yes. We were set to go out on Saturday night. Unless fate intervened and I found “the one” before then. Seriously, I think Mother Hubbard's writing about finding true love was the only way the campus was going to let her (me) out of this silly third-date challenge.

When I told Tyler he'd have to pay for two more tickets to the play, he just smiled and snagged two more from the paper's usual play reviewer. Cheapskate.

Turns out, she was happy to give them up because she hates Shakespeare and had planned to make up her review rather than sit through the play, so I didn't even have to feel guilty that we were using more free tickets.

I suppose I could be seen as taking Richie's suggestion that I use the tickets to ask Tyler out. After all, Tyler was coming to the play with me. Sure, he wasn't my date. And he was dating the girl he was crushing on big-time. I think Richie had meant me to ask him out separately, after the ouchy double date was history.

But I'm more like Tyler—a coward—than like Richie. The thought of asking Tyler out and hearing a no…there was no way I would take it as well as Richie had.

Besides, Tyler and I were going to the play together, sort of. So why did I waste more than a few minutes hoping that Richie wouldn't notice my foursome if he happened to glance out into the audience? I guess we cowards always think the brave will sneer instead of pity us for our lack of nerve.

Sophia was still unsuspecting of Tyler's ulterior motive for asking her to come to the play with us. She was a girl who tended to focus on her own motivations. Which happened to be finding out if her wide dating pool was still a little too shallow.

It was kind of fun to be getting ready for our evening at the same time. And a little intimidating. Not that she didn't try to help me highlight my good points. “Use the plum on your eyelid. It'll bring out your eyes.”

I examined the results in the mirror. “Isn't this too much drama?”

“Nope. Just the right amount of drama for a night of Shakespeare and romance.”

“If I want to start something romantic with Stephen, I think I'll have to use silver eye shadow. Not to mention silver blush. Come to think of it, I'd be better off just going straight for the silver face paint. He doesn't make time for anything but his robots.”

“Robots?” Her voice lifted and I remembered that Sophia liked to read science fiction for entertainment. To each her own, I guess. “That means he's smart.”

“He probably has an IQ in outer space. But he doesn't talk, so who could tell.”

“Smart guys are sometimes shy. Maybe he is just too overwhelmed by his feelings to show his heart to you.”

I shrugged. “Maybe. I guess that's why he's getting another chance. But I think you and Tyler will agree with me by the end of the date. And maybe things can get back to normal for Mother Hubbard—and me. You know, back when I didn't have to go out with a guy I'd already written off?”

Sophia sighed. “It is so hard to know another person, isn't it? Do you think it is really like Professor Golding says? All chemicals and pheromones? No hearts at all?”

“I hope not. Because some people have great chemistry in the beginning, but they don't have anything going in the heart department.” Like Blaine in charm mode.

“Yes. Chemistry is wonderful. But I believe in something more too. I just haven't found it yet.”

“Let me know if you do.”

She grinned. “Oh, don't worry, you'll know—if I find the one, I'm not waiting around to let someone else steal him.”

“Not exactly a feminist statement, Sophia!”

“Of course it is,” she replied smugly, adjusting her hair for maximum sexiness. “Women can have anything a man can—including someone to love and support them.” She checked herself in the mirror, more worried than I thought she had any right to be. “Do you think Tyler and I would be good together?”

I pretended to be checking myself out, although I already knew I was as good as I was going to get. I didn't want to meet her eye when I answered that question. “I don't know.”

She checked her teeth for lipstick. “I just don't see it. He is nice enough, and funny sometimes when he doesn't mean to be. So serious, though. I like a man who can laugh at himself.”

“Isn't that the point of giving someone a chance? Just in case you're missing something? For all you know, Tyler can laugh at himself.” I felt a little hypocritical, considering I'd just done this to Richie. But I consoled myself that that was different—I'd known Richie from kindergarten through high school. We'd studied together, sneaked each other chocolate during our SATs…if there'd been a spark there, I'd have known it.

“I suppose.” Sophia adjusted my hair for the third time. What was wrong with it? “Personally, I think you and he are a better match.”

That time I couldn't help looking at her. “So why did you say yes when he asked you out?”

“Because I like the idea of you going out with this last guy with a pair of chaperones, of course. Although I think you'd be better off taking more karate classes so you can make your
no
perfectly clear.”

“I'm already registered for next semester.” Sometimes I actually take the call the universe sends me. This one had been very clear: Not everyone is to be trusted.

Blaine probably wouldn't have pushed it, but no doubt there were guys who would have. One had even left comments on the blog to tell Mother Hubbard so. Something about the price of dinner. Professor Golding had blasted his Neanderthal attitudes in class for five minutes. She'd actually been shaking when she finished.

“Good. But I still think you should give it a try with Tyler.”

Fortunately, the knock on the door and the arrival of the person in question stopped that conversation cold.

He came in, all eyes on Sophia, of course. “Ready to go pick up Space Cadet from his dorm?”

“First you must tell us how beautiful we look.”

“You're gorgeous.”

“Now Katelyn.”

He looked at me. And took a second look. “Wow. You look even better than you did when you went out with Blaine.”

“Thanks.” I was sure that was supposed to be a compliment.

“Good thing we're going with you,” he said, making himself a couple with Sophia with his words. “Or Space Cadet might try to morph into Hands-On Guy.”

I thought of Stephen putting his arm around me. His hand on my knee. Nope. Not happening. I'd be lucky to get a peck on the cheek good night. So why did I agree to this again? Oh yeah, because I have a crush on the guy who is leading Sophia out the door. Her date.

Can you say weird? Then you have just a small idea of how I felt to be double-dating with Tyler, whom I had a crush on, to see a play featuring a guy who (I hope) just recently got over his crush on me. When you throw in that Tyler's date was the girl he was crushing on as well as my roommate—and she didn't view the evening as more than friends—and we're all going to see a university-level production of a lame Shakespeare comedy…Well. You have a really twisted sitcom episode.

Stephen had clearly taken his clothes out of the dryer sooner than usual. And he'd remembered to brush his hair (he had forgotten last time). So I was shocked when Sophia whispered, “Oh, he's a cutie.”

I gave her an
are you kidding me?
look, but she just laughed and started talking about robots. Stephen lit up at finding someone to talk to. But you know what? Even though he was talking to Sophia, he was looking at me. Yeah, I guess I could see why she'd thought he was cute—with a little work he might even make it to semi-hottie. But the question was, did I want to be the girl to do that work?

Double-dating is interesting. You cut the work of conversation in half, but you add to the number of logistical decisions. We had a little awkward moment when we went to sit in the theater. Were we going to sit boy-girl-boy-girl, or were we going to sit boy-girl-girl-boy (no one even considered girl-boy-boy-girl)? Finally we decided that Sophia and I should be in the middle so we could whisper comments to each other and not annoy the guys.

When the house lights went down, signaling the beginning of the play, I couldn't help but feel relieved. No more conversation required. No more seeing Tyler looking at Sophia like he wanted to lick her from head to toe. Just a few more hours and a shared plate of nachos at the student union, and my third-date adventures would be over. For good.

Richie was Puck. Which was not as small a part as I'd remembered. I think he must have meant that his part was a small one as a joke because Puck was supposed to be a fairy and Richie was short enough to pull the role off.

But then, when Mr. Jamison made us read the play, I'd gotten so bored and confused that I'd resorted to a used CliffsNotes and a last-minute study session with my best friend, Claire—who loved Shakespeare and was now an English major at Penn State—to pass the unit exam.

At least tonight all I had to do was stay awake and remember to tell Richie that he was very good as the mischievous Puck. Through e-mail.

I think face-to-face would still be a little awkward. Maybe by next year we'd be able to share a glass of strawberry milk without feeling like we didn't know what to say. Maybe.

I had a chill down my spine when I realized what Richie had meant about the play being like my life. It was actually painful as I sat and watched all the characters longing for the wrong person and hurting the person who longed for them. Who knew that Shakespeare knew all about crushes gone wrong way back in the Dark Ages?

Don't know how I missed that part in high school. But then, I hadn't been open to the idea in tenth grade that David was the wrong guy. Or eleventh. Not until he asked me to the prom, actually. And by then high school was nearly over.

The play was a reflection of my life since I'd hit puberty. Lots of confusion and never knowing who was who. A little comedy, a little tragedy, and then a big bow at the end. The biggest difference I could see, besides the fact that I don't have to wear skirts that hit the ground, was that at the end of the play the women got roses, while at the end of college I would—I hoped—get a degree. Big whoop.

If human beings hadn't figured out a way around this crush thing in five hundred years, did that mean there was no cure except Shakespeare's magic? And maybe common sense. Although, come to think of it, Mother Hubbard's common-sense approach hadn't really helped me get over my crush on Tyler. By the end of the play I wanted the potion that Oberon, king of the fairies, finally sprinkled on the four lovers to rearrange them back into the right couples. Is that what it takes to cure the irrational attraction of crushes—a magic potion?

It had been sad to see the star-crossed lovers run amok, with Puck and the fairies playing them for fools.

Richie really knew what he was talking about—the characters were very much like us. Me. Tyler. Sophia. Stephen. Even Richie, though I think he may have finally escaped the curse of the unrequited crush. I hope. The only thing I couldn't figure out was whether Mother Hubbard was Puck, making things worse, or Oberon, who eventually straightens the whole mess out.

Okay. Maybe, just this once, the third time's the charm. Stephen turned out to be not only smart, but sexy in a shy wait-a-minute way. He also opened doors for me and made sure I got through before he followed me.

Maybe I was more relaxed because Tyler and Sophia had agreed to double-date and it didn't seem like such a lonely endeavor. Or maybe it was because the play had made me decide to take Mother Hubbard's advice—to forget about Tyler as anything but a friend, and really try to make a connection with Stephen. Common sense at its best.

I admit, I hadn't expected it to work so well. I'd figured I'd have to date a few more guys before I found one who could completely obliterate the crush I had on Tyler.

But what can I say? I noticed how Stephen paid attention to me and didn't forget I was his date, despite the fact that I was standing right beside Sophia. Which was neat. Then he asked me where I thought I'd be in ten years, and I looked past his wire-rimmed glasses into his eyes and…the buzz started, just like a switch had been flipped on inside me. Who'd have guessed?

Admittedly, Sophia had spent a lot of time drawing Stephen out, so even though I could see his good points, I wasn't the one encouraging him to explain where he thought the future of robotics would be in ten years over so-so Mexican food and drink (the student union has a food bar that manages a washed-out multiculturalism—blah Mexican, Chinese, and Greek kiosks, plus blah hamburgers and fries).

Four people out on a double date aren't absolutely safe, especially when two of the guys are really cute and one of the girls is hot. But we best-friend types know all about double-dating with hotties. We're not expected to carry the conversation. But it was nice, sitting there, watching Sophia crack Stephen's shy shell open like he was a nut and she was a nutcracker (which she has been called before, but in another context).

Stephen surprised me, though, as he happily answered Sophia's questions while we chowed down on nachos until there was just a smear of cheese left on the plate. Evidently he'd been reading Mother Hubbard's blog. Which was why he'd not only brushed his hair, but also picked out clean, unwrinkled clothes. After all, a clean guy gets more cuddle time, as the girls on the blog made clear.

Stephen was trying hard to get a clue. And the girls of the world had Mother Hubbbard to thank for that. And Mother Hubbard, via me, was very glad that someone was hearing what she was saying and making positive changes instead of snarky comments.

So, who was I to turn down a trip to Stephen's lab to see his robot?

“You will?” He seemed as surprised as he was pleased. He curved a smile that made the dimple in his chin stand out. Excellent.

“Sounds like fun.” I love dimples almost as much as I love guys who don't take my affection for granted. The evening was bound to get better once it was just the two of us in a dimly lit lab, I could feel it down to my toes.

And then Tyler kicked me under the table.

“Excuse me.” I shifted out of his reach and glared at him.

He was trying to send me some message with his eyes. What, I couldn't tell. “I thought you said you had a test Monday that you needed to study for tomorrow?” His eyebrows wiggled up and down like they'd come alive and were about to eat his face.

Oh. Memory jogged. In point of fact, I had not said that I had a test to study for. I had said that if the evening with Stephen was dragging on, I would use that excuse to end it. “I'm all studied out. I can take some time to see a robot.”

“I, too, would like to see a robot.” Sophia smiled at Stephen.

Who smiled back. “Great. We can all go.” Why couldn't he make it clear he wanted to ditch them? To be fair, I couldn't figure out how to do it either, and they were my friends. I suppose I could chalk that up to yet another bad point about double-dating.

I tried the ladies' room maneuver with Sophia. But she didn't get my
let's talk
signal and just said she didn't have to go. Tyler looked as unhappy as I felt, but I knew he wasn't going to go home until Sophia did.

So, rather than the intimate, low-light lab “moment” for two, we had a high-light mega lecture moment for four. I have to admit, I hadn't appreciated how smart Stephen was until I saw his robot. It looked human. Really. Well, in a plastic sort of way. But still, better than the talking robots at Disney World. It moved smoothly and even replied independently depending on what Stephen asked, in a very limited way—although he planned much more as soon as he got the algorithm perfected. Whatever that meant.

For the first time I could understand why Stephen was so caught up in robotics. His project was cool. A life-size, lifelike robot that could answer questions.

Granted, at the moment she could only answer “I'm fine” to a question of “How are you?” and yes or no to whether she was cold (apparently she had a temperature sensor in her skin).

Even Tyler thought it was cool and asked a million questions. He said he'd written an article on the robot project his freshman year, when Jezzy was just a gleam in Professor Jernigan's eye and newly funded with a grant from the government.

I'd begun to think any alone time at all would have to wait for the next date. Date four! Wow, what a concept. There'd been so many times when I didn't think I'd ever get to date three, never mind want a fourth or fifth.

I guess thinking that there was a future to take care of little things like private time without a nosy friend and a sexy roommate was a good thing.

But I still wanted to get rid of said friend—and especially said roommate, who just happened to be an art major with a secret passion for robot design. Normally, I think that's cool. But not tonight when she could actually understand what Stephen was talking about enough to ask intelligent questions (mine had consisted of why they had made her eyes blue and her hair blond, and Stephen hadn't even known the answer to that because it had been someone else on the team who made those calls). Give me another year or two and I'd have enough real engineering courses to understand. But Sophia went straight for the aesthetics of creating a humanlike robot and she didn't seem to need any engineering classes to get what he was doing. Beauty and brains in one package. How could a girl get so lucky?

Of course, if I wanted to be selfish, I could just ask, how could a girl (me) get so unlucky?

Then I remembered something. When I'd been worried about this double date (I had been convinced that Stephen would be more boring than an evening of playing solitaire with fifty cards), Sophia had suggested that, just in case I was wrong, we should agree on a signal for her to take Tyler and leave Stephen and me alone.

That's what I get for being so sure of myself that I didn't even bother to remember the signal until it was almost too late. I was supposed to say, “Sophia, did you turn off the coffeemaker in our room?”

Which I did.

Sophia, who was examining the schematic of Stephen's robot, didn't even look up. “It has an auto timer, don't worry about it, Katelyn.”

Great. Why even suggest a signal if you were going to ignore it? Of course, I could tell by the way she was hunched over the schematic that she had forgotten the signal just like I had. Next time the signal would have to be something she couldn't possibly overlook. No. Strike that. Next time there would be no double date. No Sophia in the lab talking robotese with my date, leaving her date to fume—at me, of course, because darling Sophia could do no wrong. Guys!

The only good thing was that Stephen was talking to Sophia, but he was clearly looking at me. Me. The best friend. The not-so-hottie. It felt amazingly great.

I tried, last-ditch effort, to talk Tyler into getting Sophia out of there. After all, he had asked her because he wanted to go out with her, not just to protect me. “Don't you want to walk Sophia home alone?”

“Well, yeah.” Funny how Stephen's interest still couldn't quite erase my chagrin that Tyler had a crush on Sophia. “But it doesn't look like she's ready to leave. I think she's going to make him take Jezzy apart and put her back together again.”

“Yeah. I didn't know there was anyone else besides Stephen so into robots.”

He looked at me for a second, and I knew he'd heard the distinct lack of enthusiasm in my voice. “Why did you come to see the lab if you're not that into robots?”

“I think I'm into Stephen.” I felt funny saying it out loud. But I thought if I did—to Tyler, especially—it would make my resolution to move on even firmer than it already was.

“You do?” He looked at Stephen with an unhappy frown. I recognized that look—he was trying to figure out why both Sophia and I were paying more attention to Stephen than to him.

I felt annoyed that Tyler wasn't happy for me. Sure, he didn't know that I'd decided to get over my crush on him and move on to Stephen. But still. I'd expect him to be happy for me—or at least happy that his Mother Hubbard challenge had landed him a big win for his point of view. “Isn't that exactly what you wanted to happen? For me to find a guy I liked on the third date when I'd previously written him off by the second?”

“I guess. But I didn't think Sophia—” He broke off, and glanced over at the two robotophiles. He shrugged.

“I know. Sucks to have your date pay more attention to someone else.” Boy, did I know. Story of my life. “I wish I could think of a reason for you two to go home and leave me alone with Stephen.”

“Maybe it's better this way, considering what happened last time.” He didn't sound all that happy about it, but it was nice that he remembered the reason we'd double-dated in the first place.

“That was Blaine. This is Stephen. He hasn't even tried to kiss me yet, never mind pin me up against a bench so I can't move.”

Tyler looked at me again. Really looked at me. It was beginning to be a habit. I still felt the buzz, but I ignored it. He grinned in that best-friend conspirator way, when you've just confessed something he can tease you with forever. “He just hasn't had the chance.”

I laughed too. “Not all guys are like Blaine. And I don't think Stephen is like that.”

We looked at Sophia and Stephen, who had taken Jezzy's face off. Tyler sighed. “It's not going to happen tonight. For either of us, unless we come up with something brilliant.”

“So think of something.”

“Like what?”

“I don't know, you're the creative one; you came up with the Mother Hubbard challenge, after all.”

In the end it was the smart one—Stephen—who thought of something. Just as we reached the dorm and stopped for that awkward game of will we kiss or not, he said, in front of everyone (talk about courage), “I had a great time tonight, Katelyn. Would you like to go to a movie next Saturday?”

Life. Sometimes it is
very
sweet.

Just so you know, we didn't kiss, but I swear he was just about to get up the nerve when Sophia grabbed my hand and pulled me into the dorm behind her, calling a very cheerful “Ciao!”

I broke away, but it was too late; the guys had turned around and started walking away. There was no graceful way to recover the kiss moment.

I took my annoyance out on Sophia. “Hey! Why'd you do that? He was going to kiss me. I know he was.”

“Well, I didn't want to give Tyler any ideas.”

“You didn't have a good time?” Okay. So why did that make me feel good when I'd already decided to move on from Tyler? Because I'm an emotional roller coaster. Just like everyone else on this campus.