Too Blind to See It!

"It's one O'clock in the morning Phoebe. What are you doing here?"

"I had Travis drop me off. You don't mind do you?"

"I was sleeping."

"And I want to sleep. It's perfect."

"Funny, you'll sleep in bed with me but not Travis."

"That would be too romantic. Besides if you’d see the things we did in that bed, you wouldn’t want to sleep there either," she said smiling up at me.

“Oh Pheebs. Fine go grab something to sleep in." I instructed, and she walked into my room.

"No! Not my Devil's t-shirt. Anything but my Devils t-shirt."

"But it's so soft and broke in." She was rubbing it against her cheek.

"Stop violating my t-shirt and pick another one. I've had that one since like junior high, and I love it." I crawled into bed and pulled the duvet over my head trying to hide from the light that Phoebe seemed to need to get ready. I heard her walk to the bathroom and come back into the room.

"I know you're not sleeping Jenna. You can't sleep if someone else is still up." She was right. It was a little problem I had, if someone in was awake, and I knew it, I had to be awake too.

"So go to sleep, so I can go to sleep," I called out from under the covers.

"I want to know how things went with Prince Charming tonight."

There was no use arguing with her at 1:00 in the morning. I was too tired to go on a tirade about how there was nothing between Zach and I. "It was fine," I called out to her.

"Fine, just fine. Did you use the condom?"

"Phoebe!" I sat up pulling the covers off of my face. "You put that damn condom in my purse. I knew it!"

"It was just a joke Jenna girl, don't get your ass all twisted."

"My ass is already twisted. I told Zach to grab my phone out of my purse, and he found it."

Phoebe covered her mouth laughing, but trying really hard not to piss me off. "Oh...I bet that was awkward. Look on the bright side, now he just thinks you practice safe sex."

"Oh no, it wasn't as simple as that. I went and told him I'm a virgin."

"YOU WHAT?"

"I know. Right? What was I thinking? And after I told him he kind of freaked."

"What do you mean?"

"He acted like a blubbering idiot all stuttering and stuff. It was like he couldn't believe it. He probably thinks I'm some kind of a freak."

"I don't think that's what he's thinking at all." Her eyes went to the ceiling like she had a very important piece of information that she was trying to keep from me.

"So are you going to explain what that means?" I asked as she crawled into bed and pulled the covers over her legs.

"Look some guys like girls like me. They get what they want; I get what I want. We go our separate ways. It's all good." I rolled my eyes at her. "Some guys want the chase of getting the girl to put out. They want the girl to give in but the effort is half the fun. That's not either of us. But some guys like women like you. They want what's never been touched. In some countries they sell girls like you for small fortunes."

"Pheebs! You make it sound so dirty." I tired and whiney.

"It's not dirty Jenna. It's just... you're like a prize, the ripest apple in the bunch. I always tease you about being perfect, but you really are. I'm actually kind of jealous."

"What? You are?"

"Sure, I mean I'm never going to make a guy a bumbling idiot over me. You, the choices you made, you have the power to do that to a man."

"Aww Phoebe," I said softly. It was the first time she'd ever complemented my life choices. "You do have the power to make a guy a bumbling idiot. I see it all the time."

She yawned and laid down. "That's completely different, I have the power to give him the best orgasm of his life which provokes a bit of speechlessness, but it’s not the same thing. Now go to sleep,” she instructed.

I laughed at her and got situated under the covers. Phoebe immediately snuggled up to me. "Why is that you cuddle with me, but never with guys?"

"I haven't found one I like as much as you yet."

"G-night Pheebs."

"Night Jenna."

****

"Damn girl, what are you doing up so early?"

"It's 9:00. It's not early, and I have to get ready for class."

"So throw on some sweats and close the curtains. I don't have to go to school."

"I'm having a bad hair day," I explained. "And I can't find anything to wear."

Phoebe pulled the duvet over her head. "Put your hair in a ponytail and put on that old Devils t-shirt you won't let me touch." Her words came muffled from under the covers.

"I CAN'T." The suggestion horrified me.

Phoebe sat up and rubbed her eyes. She struggled to focus and squinted at me. "What's your problem? You're low maintenance Jenna. You don't whine about your hair and your clothes." I couldn’t come right out and say it. I just stood there with a completely lost expression. "Jenna What?...Ohhhh." A light bulb went off. "You have a date. That's you're problem."

"It’s not a date," I replied trying to convince myself more than her. "It's just lunch."

"Right. You're standing there like deer in headlights looking in your closet, cuz you're secretly doing one of your professors… And you didn't tell me?"

"OK fine, it's a date. I know it's a date. I should just call him and cancel."

"NOooo," she shrieked and jumped from the bed. "You are not canceling. He may be my only ticket to meet Jordan. You are not canceling!"

I turned to Pheebs showing her my sad face. "It's just. I don't date. Well, I don't date guys like that. He's attractive right? I mean you think he's good looking?"

"He's definitely Hot."

"Right and he's a hockey player. Hockey players don't date girls like me. They date girls like...like...Allison!"

Phoebe walked over and grabbed me into a hug and held me there soothing my nerves. "I'm dating a hockey player," she said.

I pulled away. "You and Travis are dating?" I asked in surprise with hopefulness spread across my face.

"Well we're screwing, but anyway he tells me I'm hot. He moans it actually, but my point is that I'm not like Allison. These tits are all mine, and I have a hockey player interested in me."

I rolled my eyes, she was practically proving my point for me.

Dating. Dating for me was difficult. I didn't want awkward get to know yous. I wanted instant chemistry and romance. I didn't want to worry if the guy would try to push me too far on each date. I wanted there to be immediate respect. I didn't want a nervous stomach. I wanted butterflies. I ask a lot. I know I do, and that's why I hardly ever date. Phoebe's right, I want perfection. I want Prince Charming. I want to know from the moment I see him that this is it, or at least could be it, before I waste my time like so many other girls. Dating the same guy for years only to find out he's a scumbag, I don't have time for that. I can have the love I want; I know I can. I've heard stories about it, and no, not just in princess movies. My dad fell in love with my mom the moment he saw her, said he couldn't take his eyes off of her. He knew right then that he'd marry her. My parents have been married 25 wonderful years and they still make out which makes me want to barf; yet I pray that I can have that someday too. I want that kind of love when I've been married for 25 years. I'm not going to find that kind of love in a bar or on a sweaty dance floor. Jumping into bed with someone is not going to get me that kind of love. I want to save that gift for the man I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. I want to be able to give that to him and when we are watching our grandchildren play in the yard, he'll look over at me and know he's the only man that ever touched me like that. I will belong completely to him.

I'm 21 and so far there are no signs that my Prince Charming exists, so I wrote a story about that him. In my story his name is Sidney, though I know that won't be the name of my Prince Charming, he is pretty amazing. The way he struggled to be with the woman he loved. Someone is going to love me like that some day, and I'm going to wait for him. In the mean time, I have a lunch date (yes I said date) with Marc Staal. So I ask myself as I cross the quad to our meeting place, is Marc Staal my Prince Charming (a name I’ve grown accustomed to thanks to Phoebe)? The most obvious answer is no, yet something is making me do this. Some part of me feels that I need to go on this date with him. Maybe it's my best friend's desire for his brother, but whatever the reason, I'm on my way to meet him.

I have nerves not butterflies as I caught him in my sights. He sat on a bench with a baseball cap pulled down tight over his eyes, playing with his phone. I wondered if I'd even recognize him without his Rangers jersey. I mean I'd only seen him in clothes once for like fifteen minutes, street clothes I mean. I’m glad I didn’t say that out loud, Phoebe would never let that go. Of course when I saw him I did recognize him, and as I came closer he looked up and saw me. His cheeks turned a little pink. I wondered if the sight of me is what caused it, though I am aware that red heads tend to get pink cheeks quite easily. He stood up to greet me with a friendly peck on the cheek. "Hi Jenna. Oh, I brought this for you," he said and picked a white rose up off of the bench and handed it to me. Now it was my turn to blush. How thoughtful of him, that was a good first step. He almost seemed a little shy about it waiting for my response. "That was very sweet Marc. Thanks."

"I bought you the rose because I didn't want there to be any confusion. I want this to be a date. I hope that's Ok."

My cheeks went from pink to a medium raspberry color. "So it's a lunch date?" he asked waiting for my agreement.

"It's a lunch date." I reply. I mean I'd already conceded that it was a date, what harm was there in admitting it to him.

"You have no idea how hard it was getting that for you."

Kind of an odd thing to say. "Ah, really?"

"Well see I went to the florist and I knew I wanted to get you flowers, first I didn't know what kind. So I had to decide between daises and lilies, carnations or mums." He had a big smile on his face and it made me laugh.

"Well I'm glad you didn't get me mums. Aren't they for funerals?" I asked.

"See, I didn't want to screw up. Your first impression may have been that I thought you were dead. I don't think you're dead, just so you know."

I laughed again. "OK thanks for that."

He continued on about the flowers. "So I chose roses, classy right?" He winked at me. "Then it was like how many do I get. A dozen. Half dozen. Half a half dozen. So I got you one, first date, One rose. I thought it made sense, but I don't want you to think I'm cheep or anything."

I laughed again and shook my head. "I don't think you're cheep. I promise."

"Phew. So I had it narrowed down to one rose, but then the lady asked what color. They had pink ones, she said that meant friendship. I'm not really going for friendship here Jenna, not that you'd make a bad friend or anything." I laughed again. "Red. Red means love. Even I know that. Not that I don't maybe want to fall in love with you. I mean someday a loooong time from now. Like way in the future, but we're not there yet. Get my meaning?"

"I do," I said giggling.

"She tried to talk me into yellow, saying it meant joy, but I swear I read someplace that yellow roses stood for jealousy. If you read that too, I wouldn't want you to think I was jealous. That would just be weird."

I shook my head at him and his rambling. "I never heard that, but it's good to know I guess."

"So I was left with white."

"What does white mean?"

"Innocence." He cocked his head and looked into my eyes. "I don't know. It just seemed fitting somehow."

Suddenly it wasn't funny, it was sweet and thoughtful, and it made me gush a little. The simple gesture and explanation made me melt. As funny as all that was, he'd actually taken the time to think about what flower he'd give me and what it meant. Last time I got flowers from a guy of any kind was my corsage from Senior prom. Marc had no idea how fitting that single white rose actually was. "Thank you Marc." There was a pause for a moment before I spoke a again. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure anything."

"Do you always talk this much?"

Now it was his turn to laugh. "Can I be honest with you?" I nodded. "I'm a little nervous. I mean your Jenna, and you agreed to go out with me."

"What do you mean I'm Jenna. Of course I'm Jenna."

"It's just you're Parise's Jenna. The way Z talks about you; it's Jenna this and Jenna that. It's like he's dating you and not Allison." Zach talks about me to his friends? I needed that to sink in.

"Excuse me for saying this," he continued, "but I don't know what he sees in her."

I like this guy already.

"A couple of us guys thought he'd made you up, until I finally got to meet you. Trust me, he made it perfectly clear that you were off limits. “

“He said that?” I asked.

“Yeah. Are you sure the two of you don’t have something going on?”

It was an innocent question, meant as teasing, but it horrified and saddened me at the same time. I would never cheat on someone and I would never cheat with someone, yet thoughts of being with Zach or not being with him, which was actually the case, made me long for what I would never have.

“There is nothing going on with us except simple friendship.” I sighed knowing there never would be. “So Zach made me off limits, but you still called?”

Marc’s cheeks reddened slightly. “I knew Zach was going to be pissed, but I told him he can’t have a girlfriend and an incredibly hot best friend and keep you both to himself. It just not fair. He tried to claim rules of the locker room, but I told him that only applies to girlfriends. He can keep that girlfriend of his. But you…” He winked at me. “It just wouldn’t be fair to keep you locked away from the world. Well, at least from me.” His smile grew into a smirk. “I don’t want to talk about Parise. I want to get to know you. Shall we?”

He put his arm out for me to take, and I did. I was still nervous, but with his sense of humor and honesty I knew we’d have a good time. One thing he said struck a cord with me, not talking about Zach was probably a good idea. The less time I spent with Zach on my mind, the better it was for my heart.

****

I made my way home contemplating my date with Marc.
I pulled out my mental checklist for my Prince Charming. Awkward get to know yous? – Nope, Marc made me laugh all through lunch, and we talked like we’d know each other for years. Chemistry? – I blushed my way through our time together with all the sweet things he said. Romance? – Well what’s more romantic than the rose, the rose that took him half an hour to decide on at the local florist? Respect? – Walking back to the quad, Marc slid his hand in mine. He looked at me for approval, which I gave him with a small smile, and he gave my hand a little squeeze. There was no pressure, it was pretty great. Butterflies? I let out a sigh. 4 outta 5 isn’t bad.

I just really want butterflies. It was only one date right? Butterflies could come on a next date or the third, that is if Marc called. Wait, next date? Third date? I smiled yeah, maybe. If he called.

****

I heard two distinct voices as I made my way through the door of my apartment. The combination of the two sent my mind reeling. No way anything good could come from this pair.

“JENNA!” Phoebe squealed as she made her way across the floor to wrap me in a hug. Looking over her shoulder, my eyes connected with the boy who sat on my couch.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have a lingerie shop to run?” I said it jokingly, but she knew perfectly well I was serious.

“Abigail’s running the shop. I needed to be here for you. I want to know everything about your date?” She grabbed my purse and opened it.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Looking to see if you used the condom.”

“Stop it Phoebe.” I rolled my eyes and turned to Zach. “And you? What are you doing here?” What I really wanted to know was why he was here and not home with Allison.

“Just need to make sure Marc was a gentleman.”

“I promise he was.”

“Your neighbor over there, and I have a little bet going.” Phoebe said slyly. Her eyebrows were held high in anticipation. “Prince Charming says you’re a one and done. There won’t be a second date. But I say, the Staals are all alike, he may not be Jordan, but you’re gonna want more of that. So spill it…”

“Phoebe! Stop.”

“Just answer the question,” she commanded.

“What was the question again?”

“Is there going to be a second date?”

I shut my eyes and tried not to be obvious. I couldn’t fight the small smile the crept to the corners of my mouth.

“Pay up Parise!” Phoebe announced turning to Zach.

“Oh no. No way. I want to hear her say it.”

“Jenna?” Phoebe pleaded.

“Fine. If he asks I’ll go out with him again. If he asks.”

“Yes!” she exclaimed and collected what looked like fifty bucks from Zach who looked more defeated than he should have over fifty bucks.

Phoebe’s phone rang, and she stepped into the kitchen leaving me alone with Zach.

I plopped down beside him on the couch. “What’s the matter Zach? I didn’t realize you were such a sore loser.”

“I’m not. It’s fifty bucks, whatever. So you had fun, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I said softly looking away from him.

“And Marc was a gentleman?”

I giggled at Zach sounding like an overprotective brother. “Of course. Did you think he wouldn’t be?”

“Did he kiss you? Because it was your first date, and I wouldn’t want him to push you. You know what I mean.”

“Zach,” I protested, partially because it was none of his business and partially because he wouldn’t care if it wasn’t for that piece of personal information he found out the night before.

“Did he kiss you? It’s a simple question,” he asked again not accepting my denial of info.

“Double or nothing on the kiss Parise. What do you say?” Phoebe made her presence obvious.

“No. No more betting on me,” I demanded.

“Ok then just tell us. Did he kiss you? I bet he’s a good kisser. You know what they say about good kissers right Prince Charming?” Phoebe directed her question toward Zach who just shook his head. “If a man knows his way around a kiss, he knows his way around…”

“PHOEBE!” I made a mental note to tell her not to do this to me in front of Zach.

“What I was going to say dance floor. He knows his way around the dance floor.” Zach let out a laugh, and that’s when Jenna let him have it. “What Parise? Are you a good dancer? I bet you are with those sick hockey moves. I bet you could show Jenna all kinds of moves.

Zach turned three shades of red, and I decided to rescue him. “Leave him alone Phoebe. He hasn’t known you as long as me. You are going to scar him.” I turned toward Zach. “And you, if you are going to hang out here you’re going to have to get used to her sex talk. I’ve tried getting rid of her for years, but she’s not having it.”

“He doesn’t have to put up with my sex talk, cuz I’m outta here.” She grabbed her shiny purple biker jacket from the chair.“ Abigail’s having problems at the shop. I need to get back there. Something about a tranny trying to exchange a rubber corset. I don’t know.” She walked toward the door. “You should know you’re not getting off that easy Snow White. I’m coming back so you can give me all the juicy details. Does Marc Staal play tonsil hockey as well as he plays ice hockey? I will wait and see. But you Prince Charming, you keep your hands off of her. She’s taken.”

“I’m not taken!” I protested. “It was one date.”

“Oh then by all means feel her up then. She could probably use a good thrill.” And with that, Phoebe closed the door and was gone, leaving us in an awkward moment and my mind relishing the idea of him doing dirty things with his hands. I finally blinked the thoughts away in time for him to continue his interrogation.

“You can’t avoid the question Jenna. Did he kiss you?”

“No. No he didn’t kiss me? Why are you so concerned about it? I don’t want you to treat me any different just because you know my secret.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know my secret, the whole never having had sex thing. Don’t be different with me now. I’m the same person I was before.”

Before I’d even realized it he’d scooped me up and pulled me over right next to him on the couch. His arms held me, and he kissed the top of my head. I tried to make the butterflies stop, reminding them that I’d seen Marc this afternoon and that was a more appropriate time, but they didn’t listen.

“Is that what you think? That I’m treating you differently?” His lips were still touching my head, as he spoke. “It’s just you’re Jenna, my Jenna and…”

I wanted to know. I wanted to know the rest. His Jenna? Marc said it earlier too. There was no time to ask as he was cut off mid sentence by the loud knock on the door and that screechy voice asking, “Jenna, it’s Allison. Is my Zachy in there?”

I jumped to the far end of the couch out of Zach’s grip and now that his arms weren’t around me I realized how good it felt to be in them. Zach’s eyes connected with mine, and I would have given anything to have been able to read his mind at that second. One thing I was sure of, he was not happy that she was at the door. I made my way to door feeling Zach’s eyes on me. As the door came open, Allison and her three inch heels and airbrush make-up and skin tight hot pants walked right past me to her boyfriend.

“Zach. I missed you,” she squealed like a wild pig.