Chapter Five
Margie was in the library an hour in advance the next day. She sat with the pile of books in front of her, her arms placed neatly on the table, her legs crossed and an uncharacteristically wide smile on her face. She could barely believe what a good mood she was in, but it wasn’t that unbelievable. She had been in the arms of Lance Healy the previous night, and he had been inside her. She had a good reason to be happy.
Mrs. Brown was throwing her looks, Margie was aware of that, but she only had a smile to give to Mrs. Brown today. Nothing could bring her down. She wondered what Lance would be wearing, what he would say to her, whether he’d kiss her on the cheek or give her a hug when he walked in. She couldn’t get that scent of him out of her mind.
After an hour and a half of waiting, Margie glanced at her wrist watch again. He hadn’t been late last time. What was holding him up?
She opened one of the books, thinking it was perhaps a good idea to chart out a study plan for the day.
That took half an hour. By this time, Lance was over an hour late and Margie could feel her heart beginning to palpitate. Had he forgotten? Was he ashamed of himself? Did he not like her anymore?
Margie glanced at her watch again. Then she stood up and walked over to the water fountain. Another fifteen minutes crept by. She ran a hand through her red curls, which she had tied in a loose, low ponytail today. She decided to give him another half an hour.
Eventually, after she had waited for three hours by herself, Margie realized it was time to give up. She collected her books into her bag again, let out a deep breath and made her way out of the library. Where on Earth could he have been? She knew how worried he was about the upcoming test. Why would he miss a free tutorial with her?
Without giving it much thought Margie started walking towards the frat house. She realized she didn’t know all that much about Lance, other than what everyone else knew about him. Was she just one of the crowd? Nonetheless, the frat house was going to be the best bet to find him, because she didn’t even have his number.
Margie felt immediately self-conscious as she approached the frat house. A couple of frat guys were hanging around outside, sitting on wooden boxes and lawn chairs, drinking beers. The guy, Bryan, who had tried to feel her up the previous night was there too. He saw her walking up to them but turned his face away, leaning in towards the guy sitting next to him to whisper in his ear. Margie could feel her neck growing red.
“Hi,” she eventually said, coming to a stop at the bottom of the steps. She was clutching the straps of the backpack on her back and tried to keep her body as still as possible, to appear confident.
“Yes?” One of the guys asked, while some of the others sniggered. She didn’t know what they were laughing at, but it made her blush even more. These were Lance’s friends, these were the people he connected with as human beings. Margie could feel a searing pain of regret coursing up her spine. How badly had she misjudged Lance?
“Is Lance around?” Margie asked, trying to make her voice as casual as possible. Some of them sniggered again and this time, Bryan actually laughed a little.
“What do you want with Lance?” the same guy asked, and Margie licked her lips.
“I was supposed to tutor him today,” Margie replied, and nearly all of them broke into a loud laugh in unison.
“Lance has a tutor?” Bryan remarked, and some other guy slapped his knee and bent over in laughter. Margie could feel her palms growing sweaty. What was going on? She wanted to ask what was so funny.
“So is he in?” Margie made her voice louder to be heard through the incessant laughter.
“Wow. Lance must be really desperate,” Bryan said, and they all erupted in laughter again. Margie could feel hot tears pricking the backs of her eyelids. What had she done to deserve this?
“Cut it out, guys! Hi, Margie.” Lance appeared through the door. The girl who had been straddling him by the pool the previous night was behind him now. Her long, dark hair reached her waist, and her short, denim hot pants made her legs look endless. The girl turned to the other guys sitting outside and exchanged smiles with them.
“Hi,” Margie said, looking up at Lance with widened, desperate eyes. He was her hero again.
“Shit. I completely forgot about our session today. Sorry, Margie. Did I make you wait?” Lance asked, looking genuinely sorry. He came down the steps and hurried towards her.
Margie breathed in deeply and licked her lips. She was just glad to see him.
“Yeah. I waited for a few hours for you in the library,” Margie whispered as he came close. She didn’t want any of the others to overhear their conversation.
“I’m so sorry, Margie. How will I ever make it up to you?” Lance pouted, childish and said. Margie broke into a smile. He was so charming, so handsome, that she couldn’t help herself.
“Have you been studying, at least?” she asked him, shaking her head, and Lance nodded.
“I spent the whole morning studying the books. I’m ready for another quiz.” Lance smiled and Margie’s heart melted again. Just the sight of his plump pink lips and those sparkling green eyes made her happy. She couldn’t get the image of how he had looked the previous night out of her head.
“Good. I also wanted to talk to you,” Margie said, still in a whisper, and Lance leaned in closer to her.
“About umm…last night.” She was struggling with the words. She could smell him again, and she wanted to touch him. Lance reached out and touched her arm suddenly. She thought her knees were going to buckle and she’d fall. Just that had such a huge physical impact on her. She bit down on her lip and looked up at him longingly.
“Last night was great, Margie. Yes, we should talk about it. I have a big game tomorrow. Should we meet the day after? I promise I’ll study more. Those books are really helpful. Thanks.” Lance’s hand was still on her arm and he was gently stroking her skin. She could feel the goosebumps on her flesh and she hung her head down to hide her blushing cheeks.
“Best of luck for the game, Lance. Yes, let's meet the day after, then,” she said, her head still hanging low.
“Lance?” the dark-haired girl, who was still on the porch of the house, called out to him. Margie and he both looked over.
“Are you coming or what? We have to go now!” The girl said, flinging her long, black hair over her shoulder. Her hands were on her hips.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Lance called back, and the girl rolled her eyes.
“Who is she?” Margie asked before she could stop herself.
“Chloe? She’s one of our cheerleaders. You haven’t met her before?” Lance turned back to Chloe, casually unaware of the rage building up in Margie.
“Why? Are you jealous of her?” Lance asked in a conspiratorial whisper and then broke into laughter. Margie smiled weakly, aware of how close Lance was to detecting the truth.
“Chloe has a loud bark but she rarely bites.” Lance turned to Chloe to throw her a look and then turned to Margie again.
“I was just wondering who she was,” Margie said, trying to smile again. Lance wasn’t touching her anymore and all she wanted was to throw her arms around him and hug him tightly. She knew, however, that that would be the worst mistake she could make in front of all these people.
“Anyway, yeah, we’re heading over to the gym together. Need to get a sweat going tonight before the game. Did you want to come?” Lance asked. He had a casual grin on his face and Margie considered it. Her heart was already beating fast because he had even offered. An image of herself on a treadmill popped up, her sweaty self, her red curls soaked in sweat and the panting and the exhaustion. Chloe, on the other hand, of course would look flawless during the whole thing.
“No, I need to head back. Got some chores to do,” Margie said, deciding immediately that she didn’t want Lance to see her that way.
“Cool. I’ll see you day after then. At the library? I’m looking forward to our little talk,” Lance said, patting her quickly on her arm before turning on his heel immediately and rushing back towards the house.
Margie breathed in deeply and then turned to leave. She thought she heard a loud giggle from Chloe and then Bryan laugh, but she didn’t turn to check. She didn’t care anymore. Lance was all that mattered and Lance was a gentleman, a kind and thoughtful person, the complete opposite of the general perception that people had of him.
She took her time in walking back to the dorm. She wanted to savor the past few moments of looking into his eyes, his hands on her arms and that bright smile. She wanted to think about him by herself.
Claire was in the room when Margie entered.
“So…how did it go?” Claire asked, looking up from the book she was reading.
“With Lance? Oh, he was busy so we rescheduled,” Margie said quickly, making sure that her face was hidden from Claire the whole time that she spoke.
“Are you serious? Did you wait for him or something?” Claire put down the book with a thump on the bed and sat up straight.
“Just for a bit.” Margie busied herself with emptying her bag. She had already given a few of the books to Lance the last time they met at the library, so she didn’t have that many left to revise for the test.
“What does that mean? How long did you wait? And how did he reschedule it?” Claire had gotten off her bed now and was standing behind Margie with her hands on her hips. Margie didn’t answer immediately, already regretting that she’d told Claire anything.
“He did eventually turn up at the library, about half an hour late, and said that he wanted to reschedule for the day after tomorrow.” Margie turned to look at her friend finally, crossing her arms over her chest. This was Claire’s reaction, and she didn’t even know what happened with him after the party! She didn’t even know that Margie wasn’t a virgin anymore.
Claire sighed and continued to glare at her.
“What is wrong with you, Claire? Why are you so upset with me?” She threw the words at Claire, believing she had the advantage now. Now that she had lied to Claire about what really happened.
“I just don’t trust him, that’s all,” Claire said softly, calming her voice down a little.
“You don’t know what he’s really like. He’s sweet. He’s a nice guy,” Margie carried on, with the same, offended voice. Claire was looking at her sharply.
“And you think you know him? After you met him, what, three times?” Claire asked with a huff, and Margie rolled her eyes.
“Whatever, Claire. I know him better than you do, so I’m in a better position to pass judgments on him. Anyway, why am I arguing about this with you?” Margie threw her hands up in the air, turned around and fell on the bed.
“Whatever,” Claire said too, and returned to her bed to read her book.
Margie turned to face the wall, and an immediate smile spread across her face. She could think of him in peace again.