Ostracism Pt. 01

"That's just it, no. I mean, I thought that he might be interested, but last night, well, I was dressed as casually sexy as I could be, not flashy or anything, just a little bit less than I'd normally wear, and he still didn't give me the first clue that he'd be interested."

"Hey, maybe he really is gay. I know that he told you he was straight, but you're cute, and I guess you were dressed to tease, and it still didn't work? Sounds kind of gay to me."

"Maybe, I guess. Still, I've got to figure out how to tell him I have a date."

"Hey, if he won't man up and ask you out himself, you've just got to woman up and tell him someone else did."

"Woman up?" Mary Margaret giggled at that one. "Never heard it put that way."

"Well, maybe we ought to use that phrase a bit more often, and let people know that women can be strong, too."

It was almost eight o'clock, and Mary Margaret had been dreading this, but Sarah's expression 'woman up' kept running through her mind. She'd kept trying to think of an easy way to put this, but there was no easy way to tell the guy you'd been seeing, even if it was totally platonically, that you had a date with some other guy. Still, maybe if Danny felt a bit jealous, he'd get off his skinny ass and do something about it.

"Look, Danny," she began, "we're both pretty caught up, ahead even, and I won't be able to see you tomorrow evening, OK?" She swallowed hard, and then continued, "I've, uh, got a date tomorrow."

Danny just looked at her, with the deadpan expression he'd so thoroughly mastered. "Oh, OK. I know we need a break from this stuff."

They just stared at each other, Mary Margaret as deadpan as Danny, disappointed that he'd shown no emotion about her having a date, and he crestfallen that she was seeing some other guy. Doing their work - and, as diligently as they'd been working, both were expecting a 4.0 semester - it was easy enough for Danny to make some noises about heading back just half an hour later.

"He didn't even flinch," she complained to Sarah when she got back to her dorm room, "didn't act like he cared one bit."

"Well, if Danny doesn't care, and this Brandon really is interested, sounds like he's the one to be with."

"Wow, you look great!" Brandon was giving Mary Margaret the quick up-and-down in class this morning. It was a warmer than usual day for early December, and she'd ditched the jeans and worn a fairly short denim skirt to class. Paired with some almost-to-the-knee boots, it was a hot look, but tamed down with an ivory cable-knit sweater, warm enough that she hadn't needed a jacket. Her light brown hair framed her face, and the black-rimmed big librarian glasses set off a cute look. Even Sarah had been impressed this morning, when Mary Margaret had come up and changed into this outfit after her normal breakfast with Danny. Sarah had told her that she should have worn it to breakfast as well, to show Danny what he was missing.

Thing is, Brandon had come in with his right foot bandaged up, and using crutches.

"Brandon, what happened?" Her genuine look of concern just reeled Brandon in further, and he could feel himself getting a bit lost in all of that.

"Oh, it's not too bad. We were doing combatives in ROTC yesterday, and I got my ankle twisted under me pretty badly when I got knocked down hard. It's just a sprain, nothing that bad, but it'll get me out of running for a week."

"You run?" She wasn't really surprised, of course.

"Oh, yeah, everybody in ROTC has to run; a two-mile run is part of the Army PT test, and we take that once a month. To keep us in shape, we run five miles every Saturday. It's not too hard, but it's still not a lot of fun. Anyway, I usually run every day, just so that five miles on the weekend won't kill me. Thing is, I won't exactly be able to take you dancing after dinner tonight."

"Dancing? Really? Is there any place we could even go, since I'm not 21 yet?"

"Oh, crap, I didn't even think about that. I know this club we could have gone to, but they serve drinks, so I guess that you couldn't have gotten in."

"Well, is tonight still on? I mean, can you really stand up in the kitchen and cook with that ankle?"

"I've already gotten my groceries, and I'm sure I can tough it out."

"What if I come by early, and help you with the cooking?" Whoa, that question just stunned Brandon, and pleased him no end. He knew that he was smiling from ear-to-ear.

"I was going to suggest 7:30 as a good date time, but sure, early would be nice. My kitchen is pretty small, but it might be fun to cook together. How does six sound?"

"Perfect! Just give me your address." But, just then, the professor started talking, so Brandon did things the practical way, and texted the address to her, hiding his phone behind the guy seated in front of him. Fortunately, Mary Margaret had her phone on vibrate, so it didn't ring; professors hate that!

They didn't have a lot of time after class, their usual one-hour break being shortened by the fact Brandon would be pretty hobbled getting to his next class. The building where he had his next class was uphill as well, making things even slower. Mary Margaret suggested, "Just sit right here," pointing to the same bench where they'd had their first lunch together, "and I'll bring you something from Hibachi Express."

"I just sprained my ankle, Mary Margaret, I'm not helpless, you know."

"I know you're not helpless, but sit there anyway. I'll be right back."

She practically ran across the street, and Brandon sat there, on the bench, watching her, enthralled. She was cute, no doubt about that, and she looked really nice in that skirt. Yeah, while her skirt was short, her legs were still mostly covered by those tall boots. Still, the overall look was casually sexy, without being too much. But now, she'd not only suggested coming over early to help with cooking dinner, but she was going to grab some lunch for him, and hadn't waited for him to pull out his wallet. She was trying to take care of him, as sweetly as any girl could, and as selflessly as any girl could.

Brandon knew women; with his looks, it was unavoidable, and plenty of girls came on to him. Not a lot of girls actually just asked him out, due to the still-existing societal expectation that men ask out women, not the other way around, but some had, and he knew that a lot more would have were it not for cultural mores. Heck, he was so good-looking that a couple of guys had asked him out, but that didn't do anything for him at all. At least he wasn't the type of man to get so offended that he responded with his fists.

He could tell that Mary Margaret liked his looks as well, but there was still something subtly different about her. It was as though she had an interesting combination of both shyness and open honesty. He hadn't had a date since high school where it hadn't wound up in bed on the first date, and yeah, he liked sex - who didn't? - but a lot of those experiences seemed to be, well, just not quite right, just not what he had always hoped he'd find in a woman.

It hadn't taken Mary Margaret long in Hibachi Express to get their lunch, but the pedestrian light at the intersection had just changed to let cars through as she got to the curb, so he could see here there, waiting not-all-that-patiently to get across. But if she was impatient, she was also smiling, not a huge ear-to-ear smile, but softly, subtly, just enough to see, just enough to let him know that she was quietly happy, the kind of smile you hope is on a girl's face when she doesn't think you're looking.

Finally, the light changed, and she was able to cross the street, walking toward him with a confident gait. What was it about her? When he stood to get out his wallet, she told him none of that, it was only fair, since he had paid for the food they were going to cook this evening, that she picked up lunch.

They ended their lunch a bit earlier, since it was going to take Brandon longer to get to his class at the Journalism Building. Hos normal walk would have taken him to this long, wide staircase across the street from the Funkhouser Building, but that might not be the wiser way to go while using crutches, so they had to take a longer way around, going up some slopes that still weren't that much fun to negotiate. Mary Margaret walked all the way with him, asking if there was anything he needed, and Brandon insuring her that everything was OK. By the time they got to his class, she had to hurry to make her own on time.

What was going on, she wondered. Hurrying on her way to her own class, Mary Margaret started to think that, all of a sudden, she was taking care of Brandon just the way she had been taking care of Danny. That thought kind of bothered her, and took a turn for the worse when she realized that she was taking care of these guys the way her mother would have.

Still, it was different. For Danny, she knew she had some real affection, and she felt a bit frustrated that he hadn't seemed to be returning that affection quite the way she wanted. She felt like she was being solidly friend-zoned there, even though she couldn't help thinking that somehow, some way, Danny might have liked her as more than a friend, even though he hadn't expressed it in any way.

With Brandon, there was no doubt he wasn't looking at her as just a friend. They'd shared a few kisses, but they were light ones, kisses full of promise, seductive rather than passionate, kisses which left her aching for more. He had been just slightly aggressive, not overwhelmingly so, but just enough to leave her feeling desired without being pushed. She liked that, liked it a lot. She knew, or at least she thought she knew, that she was safe with him, that he wouldn't push her farther than she wanted to go. But, deep down, she knew that she wanted to go as far as they could. He might not push her for sex this evening, and that bad ankle might be a problem if he did, but, deep down, she knew that she wanted to make love to him this evening.

Make love? That was insane; even though he'd been in the same class with her all semester, they'd really only just met this week! They'd had three lunches together, and had a few quick kisses, but that was it; tonight would be their first actual date, and she was already thinking about sleeping with him? She'd never slept with a guy on the first date! Of course, the few times she had slept with a guy hadn't been all that great, kind of nice, a little bit of fun, but still never living up to what she hoped they'd be.

Yet, with Brandon? Mary Margaret had no way of knowing, but he just looked like sex with him would be wonderful. That didn't really make much sense, since she had no way of knowing, but she had a deeply seated feeling that making love with Brandon would be absolutely wonderful.

Mary Margaret didn't get much out of class; her mind was half on the course, and half on Brandon. As the class was being dismissed, she got out her phone and texted Brandon:

I'm done for the day. Do you need help getting home?

Oh, gosh, that was forward, she thought. She didn't want to seem desperate or anything.

No, I can take the Lextran bus, from the stop in front of ChemPhys bldg.

Well, that was good, he had a way home. But she quickly added.

Be right there, walk you to the bus stop

Mary Margaret hurried over to the J Building, where Brandon was getting out of class. She thought that he'd appreciate this, and had a smile inwardly as well as outwardly. She'd have gone home with him, but was thinking that might be too forward. Brandon was smiling as he was waiting for her in front of the building.

It wasn't that long a walk to the bus stop, and really, Brandon didn't need any help. His ankle was still tender, of course, but he could have made it easily enough. Still, it was nice having her just with him, ready to help if he did need it. He did have to cross the street, to catch the northbound Rose Street bus, but there was a crosswalk between the Chemistry/Physics Building and Maxwell Place, the house where the university president lived.

Mary Margaret stayed at the bus stop with Brandon, waiting until his bus arrived. Normally, he just walked to school, because he didn't live that far away, but he didn't want to hobble all the way up to High Street. With Brandon's constant reassurances, she decided to just head back to her dorm rather than go to his apartment.

Danny was really messed up in the head this morning. He'd had his usual breakfast with Mary Margaret, and she was dressed the same way she always was. But when she'd headed back up to her room, a bit early, he'd noticed, and wondered what was going on. Sitting out in front, he spotted her a few minutes later, having quickly changed from her jeans to a skirt and boots. Yeah, maybe she had spilled something on her jeans at breakfast, not that he'd noticed, but face it, she'd probably changed for whoever the asshole she was dating was. Black thoughts kept roiling around his brain.

Still, it was his own damned fault! He didn't want her to get hurt by dating the fag whore, and look where it had gotten him. He could have made a move, done something to let her know he was interested, especially the other night, when she was dressed so fetchingly. He thought that maybe she'd dressed like that to entice him, but he hadn't had the damned balls to do anything about it.

Well, to Hell with her! She'd been nice enough to him, but now she was seeing some guy.

Thing is, Danny couldn't shake the fact that it was his own fault. He'd had opportunities to let Mary Margaret know that he was interested in her as more than just a friend, and he'd wasted them. He knew that he'd been kind of distant to her this morning at breakfast, trying to let her know that he wasn't happy that she had a date, but he still hadn't said anything.

Damn it, he was going to have to let her know how he felt. Danny knew, it was time to man up! Of course, he wouldn't see her until breakfast tomorrow.

Mary Margaret was letting the shampoo run down her body, as she rinsed it out of her hair. Yeah, she'd showered this morning, but with a date coming up, another shower, to be squeaky clean, was a good idea. Some conditioner, to make her hair shine and easier to brush out, and that would look good. Shaving her legs and pits, make them baby smooth, had to do that!

She wondered, not for the first time, whether she should shave off her pubes. As nearly as she could tell from the showers here, most of the girls were shaved bald, or with nothing more than a "landing strip," to entice the guys, and apparently guys liked that. But she'd never tried that, other than shaping up her bikini line to make sure nothing showed outside of her bathing suit. With a hot guy like Brandon, if things did go that far, would he be expecting it, would every other girl he'd ever taken to bed have been shaved?

Well, heck, she didn't really want to do that. Maybe it would make her look too eager, if it got that far, too slutty. Maybe if she didn't shave them off, and she was the only girl he dated who didn't, it would make her stand out.

Crap! All of these thoughts, and every one of them was focused as though she was sure they'd wind up in bed tonight, and she never went to bed with a guy on the first date. She was a good girl, she wasn't 'easy,' but, damn, he was just so sexy, so good-looking.

Nope! She wasn't going to shave them off. Mary Margaret didn't know whether Brandon would like that or not - though, to hear the other girls talk, all the guys liked that - but she was going to be herself, and not some frat fantasy girl. If things went that way, and Brandon didn't like it, well, that was his problem, and there was always Danny.

At least, there was always Danny if he'd man up and make a move. Her dressing down for him the other night was as much of a move as she felt comfortable in making - after all, it was the man's place to ask a woman out, wasn't it? - and if he wasn't going to be a bit more aggressive, he wasn't really worth it, was he?

Back in her dorm room, it was time to pick out 'date' clothes. Sarah walked in, just as Mary Margaret was pulling on her jeans. "What, your date cancel?"

"No, why?"

"Well, you wore that short skirt today, but covering up for a date?" Sarah had a devilish grin on her face.

"OK, I get it. Anyway, Brandon sprained his ankle really badly, and can barely walk, on crutches, so I'm going early. He was going to cook us dinner, but now I'm going to help with the cooking and stuff. I don't know how much help he's going to need, but maybe a miniskirt doesn't help with things. I figured jeans, my tennis shoes, and a nice shirt would be good enough, clean and workable."

"You going to sleep with him tonight?" Sarah was egging things on.

"You know I don't sleep with guys on the first date! And, yeah, he's really cute and all, and maybe I'd be tempted, but I'm certainly not planning on it."

"Yeah, uh huh, right, that was why you asked me if I had any condoms last night."

"Well, look at you, coming home all walk-of-shame time."

"Sarah, it's not the walk of shame. Nothing happened."

"What, you're coming back at noon, and nothing happened? You didn't spend the night at Brandon's place?"

"Well, yeah, I did, but nothing happened."

"What, you got too drunk and spent the night on the couch?"

"Well, no, not drunk, and I didn't spend the night on the couch."

"So, you did sleep with him, or what, he spent the night on the couch? You'd better spill your guts, girl."

Mary Margaret knew that she'd get this inquisition; when Sarah wanted to know something, she didn't let up. "OK, well, it was nice. I got over to his place around six, and he was just getting stuff out to cook. He already had some bread cut for a bit of bruschetta, and made that up quickly, just to tide us over while we cooked." Sarah could see it; her roommate was smiling. "Anyway, he had this artichoke risotto, and we made it together. Of course, he had to show me every step of the way, because I've never even seen this stuff before, but it was wonderful. He had an antipasto salad to go with it, which was pretty good.

"Anyway, it took almost two hours to prepare, but it was fabulous. Even better, well, he has a kind of small kitchen, and we had to stand side-by-side to work on this together, and we were really close, you know, personal space close, and it was so much fun. Anyway, he had a couple of bottles of pinot grigio, this Italian white wine, and it was perfect.

"I guess that it was around eight when we finally got to eat, and it was great, but it was just so cool that we'd made it together. We talked and talked and talked, and he was just so nice."

"Yeah, but was he trying to get you into bed?" Sarah was getting impatient to get to the real meat of the story!

"You know, if he was, he was being really subtle about it, but whatever he was doing, I was really turned on. Still, I was really trying to hold off on that, and I did."

"But you spent the night?"

"Yeah, that was the weird part. I finally stood up, from where we'd been sitting on the couch, just talking and listening to music - he's got this old ragtime collection - and said that I'd have to head back home. He didn't look disappointed at all, and was talking about getting together again.

"Anyway, he walked me to the door, then started walking me downstairs, when he tripped on that stupid ankle of his, and really hurt himself. He had to show me he was a man, and hobbled back to his feet, and I made him go right back up to his apartment. He was in a lot of pain from that, and I just took care of him, you know? I unwrapped his ankle, put some ice on it, and then rewrapped it after that. He had some Advil to take, which ought to help. Anyway, I wasn't going to leave him on his own, and I told him to grab his pajamas, when he told me he just slept in his boxers. So, we both got him stripped down to his boxers, and I helped him into bed.