Chapter Two
Margie spent ages getting ready the next day. She ran to her dorm room after classes and locked herself in the room for the preparation. Thankfully, Claire hadn’t appeared, so she had the room all to herself.
Her fiery red curls were shampooed, conditioned and tied into a high ponytail at the back of her head. She even found an old green silk scarf to tie around the ponytail. The color of the scarf matched her hazel eyes and the emerald green, freshly dry-cleaned sweater she had selected for the evening. For her usual pasty pale skin, she couldn’t do much: she was never good at makeup and usually never bothered with it. Her only resort was the light coral lipstick she found in Claire’s bag and she spent ages drawing it perfectly on her lips.
Her jeans were grey, and her shoes were the same canvas black ones she was wearing the previous day. She didn’t want Lance to think she had put in too much of an effort.
Just as she was about to leave, her usual denim backpack on her arm, Claire entered the room and stared at her for several seconds.
“You’re almost unrecognizable, Margie,” Claire said. The humor in her voice was distinctly missing.
“Thanks, I guess, Claire,” Margie said, pushing past her towards the door. They hadn’t spoken much since the previous night when she had stormed out of the room. She still couldn’t forgive Claire for not understanding how she felt about the whole thing.
“Best of luck anyway, I guess,” Claire said, still staring at her. She had clearly noticed the fact that Margie had borrowed her lipstick, but chose not to mention it.
“Thanks,” Margie said quickly, and shut the door behind her. She tried to maintain a steady pace as she walked down the corridors and out of the building. She didn’t want to rush, arrive too early and seem too enthusiastic.
Her heart was still racing and her palms were sweaty when she pushed open the doors of the library and went in. Mrs. Brown was in her usual position but was openly gawking at Lance, who was standing a few feet away from her, reading the titles of the books on the shelves nearby.
“Hey, you!” Lance greeted her with a wide smile, and to Margie’s horror, he approached her with open arms. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. He pulled her to him and her face was squashed against his chest. Margie shut her eyes for a second to breathe in the smell of him, a chemical mix of mint and lime.
“Hi,” he squeaked, blushing a bright red. She could sense Mrs. Brown’s eyes on her. In fact, there were several eyes on her, and especially on Lance. Nobody who was in the library at this hour, was the kind of person who knew Lance Healy personally, but everyone admired him from a distance. Margie suddenly felt like a celebrity, and she giggled.
“You made it,” she said, adjusting the strap of her bag as she led him towards an empty table. He followed her with his hands in his pockets. He was wearing a thin, black T-shirt and light, baggy jeans. His biceps were flexed, his washboard abs showed and the grin on his face was as charming as always.
“Of course I did. I know what’s good for me.” Lance laughed and pulled out a chair for her. Margie sat down and thanked him, blushing at the gesture. She couldn’t remember anybody ever pulling out a chair for her. He sat across from her, running his hands through his hair and looking directly at Margie, a laugh dancing in his eyes.
“So, where do we begin?” Margie asked, looking away from him in an effort to distract herself from his intense green eyes. She rummaged around in her bag until she found the book on basic theories that she was looking for.
“From the beginning, I suppose. You have no idea how behind I am on everything.” Lance’s expression dropped. He was serious and she could see the look of tension in his eyes.
“The thing is, my scholarship depends on it…” he started to explain, and Margie smiled.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain. I understand. You need to pass this test. I can help you with that.” She could feel her heart melting. All those things that Claire said, or implied…all the judgments every nerd might pass on Lance Healy, they were unfounded, because nobody really knew him. Margie could see him for the guy he really was, a talented rising footballer who liked to live life to the fullest. But like every student, he needed to pass his test. He was exactly like the rest of them. The crestfallen look in his eyes made him more human.
“Let’s start with the basic economic theories. We can go through some of them so that I understand what your understanding of the subject is.” Margie opened the book, her eyes running over the pages to find the ones she was looking for. She sensed that Lance was looking at her, and when she looked up she found him smiling gently at her.
“You’re a very nice person. Do you know that? I don’t even know you. I’m glad I met you, though,” he said softly, leaning in towards her. Margie blushed again. She hadn’t expected that from him. He was full of compliments, he had pulled out a chair for her and he looked like a Greek God. He was the ideal man.
Margie blushed and shook her head.
“This is nothing. It’s a good way for me to revise before the test,” she said, dropping her gaze back to the book again. It was too much to deal with. He was too perfect.
“You’re very kind,” he said, leaning in towards her again. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice you before.” His voice was still low and Margie looked up to meet his eyes. There was a twinkle in them, and he was grinning and looking at her the way she had always dreamed he would. She had never known that it could ever be a reality.
“It’s not that unbelievable. You’re Lance Healy. I’m sure there are other people you want to give your time to,” she said, biting down on her lip. She knew they were hidden by the bookshelves around them, but Margie wished they weren’t. She had a crazy urge for other people to witness the way he was talking to her and looking at her.
“I’ve been stupid. You’re smart, you’re beautiful and you have the kindest soul of anybody I’ve ever met.” With that, he sat back in his chair, like he had made some kind of important proclamation. Margie licked her lips, sighed deeply and looked back at the book. What was going on? Did Lance Healy seriously just call her beautiful? She wasn’t sure if this was some kind of elaborate dream.
“Thank you very much, Lance. We should start studying anyway,” she said, not able to look up and meet his eyes again. He was watching her, though.
“Yes, of course. Always on point, aren’t you?” he said with a laugh, and Margie flipped a few pages just to find something to occupy herself with. She could still smell him, he was that close.
“Before you begin, though, I was wondering what you’re doing tomorrow night.” He interrupted her just as she was about to read out something from the book. Margie jerked her head up to look at him in shock. Was he officially asking her out? This was too magical. Who knew that spending hours at the library would actually pay off!
“N…Nothing,” she mumbled, and Lance suddenly banged the table, although thankfully not too loudly.
“That’s settled then. You’re coming to my party.” He was smiling at her, watching her every move.
“Your party?” Margie squeaked. She could feel that nervous feeling rising in her stomach again.
“Yeah, it’s a frat party. I can bet you’ve never been to one before.” Lance laughed now and Margie blushed again. So he had already figured her out and labeled her as a nerd. He did think she was beautiful, though, so she had nothing to complain about.
“No, I haven’t. Okay, I’ll come,” Margie said, biting down on her lip.
Lance smiled at her and nodded.
“Of course you will. You have to. I want to get to know you better. The library is not the best atmosphere for that,” he said huskily, leaning in towards her again. Margie’s mind was racing already. What was she going to wear? What would Claire think of the latest development? How had this even happened?
She managed to chuckle, but her voice soon died down.
“Thanks again, Margie, for doing this for me. I hope you enjoy the party.” Lance winked at her again and Margie shook her head and smiled.
“Anyway, back to the book.” She smoothed the pages of the book and started reading from it. A lock of her red hair fell over her face and she tucked it behind her ear. She could sense that he was watching her as she read, and she grew even more conscious. How was she going to be able to seriously concentrate on tutoring him if he was going to stare at her that way?
His answers were short, not detailed enough and were missing large chunks of information. Margie knew they had a lot of work ahead of them, especially if she was going to be able to successfully prepare him for the test next week.
She wasn’t sure if she would manage that, but she was sure going to try. Lance Healy was trying to be a good student with her. He made notes, repeated her points verbatim and tried not to smile every time she tucked her hair behind her ears.
She knew they were flirting. He was watching her with his large green eyes and was trying to be as serious about learning for the test as he possibly could. But Margie felt a spark and he seemed to have felt it too.
Their fingers grazed on the table as she shut the book in front of her. It was eight, they had been in the library for three hours and she had given him some material to study by himself.
“So, same time in two days?” she asked, quickly pulling her fingers away from him.
“Sounds good. I’ll hopefully be better prepared for your quizzes by then. Although I can’t promise I’ll be doing a lot of studying tomorrow night,” Lance said, standing up and stretching his arms out. Margie put the books back into her bag and stood up herself, a smile lingering on her face. She didn’t want them to part, she knew she’d miss him. She’d had the most fun three hours with him than she had with anybody else in a very long time.
“Remember the party, Margie?” he asked suddenly, interrupting her thoughts.
“Tomorrow. Yes, I’ll be there.” She smiled at him as he began to walk away.
“Sorry, I have to rush off, Margie. Tomorrow at the Frat house, at nine. See you there,” he said, walking away swiftly.
Margie waved at him and smiled. She could feel her breath catching in her throat as she watched him leave the library, Mrs. Brown’s eyes following him out as he walked past her.
She couldn’t believe any of this had happened. Most of all, she couldn’t believe that she was so at ease with him now. Tomorrow night, she would be able to witness Lance Healy in his natural habitat.