Robin, Boy Virgin: Original Series

At lunch, ahhh, Cora sat next to me and Max and Clarissa were absent, so Minnie sat next to Harold. She was pretty aggressively bending his ear about theistic proofs still. But even though Harold is peaceful and quiet, you can tell he's a very active listener. He was hanging on Minnie's every word, even if he didn't agree with what she was saying.

Cora opened her huge bag of corn chips and put it in the middle of the table to share. The other two, bless their weird little hearts, didn't ask why Cora had a jumbo bag of corn chips. Harold isn't a corn chip fan, neither is Minnie apparently, and mostly Cora and I munched on her chips.

When lunch ended, Cora and I walked to Music Comp. She settled in her chair, criss-crossing her legs up on the chair and cradling her huge bag of chips in her lap. I sat down in my chair and picked up the guitar. I started playing the Tetris theme (you know, the video game where you have to twist different shaped blocks to fit as they fall down the screen) and that theme is, like, a Spanish national anthem. Cora laughed and put the chips up on top of the piano and wiped her hands clean against her palms.

"So did your mom like her gift?" Cora asked.

"Oh yeah she loved it. I gave you credit, don't worry," I said. Cora grinned and took another chip from the bag.

"... you know, I'm a little surprised you apologized to me this morning," Cora admitted thoughtfully and out of the blue. Oh, man, really? She thinks I'm a wimpy asshole? I mean, I kind of am, but still.

"I'm not that big of a jerk," I muttered in my defence. Cora surprised me by chuckling.

"No. I mean, I thought you were mad at me. I was all set to apologize to you," Cora said. What?? What for??

"What for?" I asked.

"Well, for, you know, my going on with Brandon. The douche puppy," Cora said. I scoffed, slightly disgusted with her.

"All you did was give some guy a chance. I was the one who was immature and got mad about it, fuck," I said, cringing at the memory.

"But you had a right to be mad. It wasn't... totally unfounded," She said, chuckling.

"Just a little," I said, rolling my eyes at myself. Cora held her thumb and index finger a tiny millimetre apart, agreeing. I smiled and played the guitar. Cora chuckled. She straightened her legs out, making them look long and gorgeous and crossed them again, keeping her foot on the ground.

"Anyway, I broke things off with Brandon," Cora told me.

Oh my God. I actually stopped playing the guitar and stared at her. My ears were ringing loudly with the Hallelujah chorus, I swear they were.

"Um, why?" I asked anti-climatically while the choir in my ears started in on some Church-y harmonies.

"Well, first of all, he's not my type," She said teasingly, fluttering her eyes at me. My heard raced in perfect synch with each flutter. Then Cora chuckled and reached in her chip bag to get more corn chips.

"And second, you know, you were right. I was thinking about what you said and... you were right," She said, going around in circles and laughing at herself. "Like, he is... a douche. Even when he's nice, he's just kind of a nice douche," She said. Oh, sweet Jesus.

"Although, you know, you were a little harsh on the CD. It's just music," Cora said. Ah! No, no, no.

"Cora. It's never just music," I preached. She looked at me and then shrugged one shoulder and giggled, nodding her head and agreeing with me.

"Anyway," She said while munching on her chips. "He also started getting all serious and, like, wanted to, you know, start being in a relationship and... I don't do that, really," Cora said, breathing a half smile.

Um. Hm. Very, very confusing. A tad problematic, maybe.

"What do you mean?" I asked, slightly suspicious. Cora criss-crossed her legs up on the chair again and put the corn chip bag in her lap.

"Well... I just... can't do relationships. It's not that I don't like them or anything like that..." Cora tried to explain, but sounded confused. "I just, I literally feel like I'm incapable of doing them. I have the commitment gene missing in my DNA," She said and chuckled. That sounded weird, but at the same time seemed kind of consistent with her personality. Hmmmmmrrrraaa.

Cora shook her head. "I'm... lame. And apparently very immature," She said, chuckling at herself. Those words made no sense. It was like she was holding up a bucket of blueberries and saying, "These berries right here? They are orange". And you're kind of left going like, "Um, noo, they're blue."

"You're not lame. You are cool and so mature it makes me sick sometimes," I said. Cora laughed at me.

"Uh huh. Yeah, you're crazy and... stupid," She giggled, not meaning it. But, yes. Yes, I am most definitely crazy and stupid. Cora looked at me, her eyes very kind and happy; to make sure I knew that she didn't mean what she had said. I knew. I stared into her blue eyes, attraction shivers going down my spine. Crazy-stupid attraction shivers.

Cora chuckled and stood up.

"Ok, I said we were having a party, so let's get it started," She said, walking over to the computer and giving my head a gentle scratch as she walked by. I smiled, instinctively ducking my head a little from the slightly demeaning gesture. But it felt really nice, to have her hand touching my hand.

And then Miley Cyrus's "Party in the USA" came out of the computer speakers like an airborne disease.

"AH!! Cora, no! My ears are going to fucking bleed! Turnitoff, turnitoff, turnitoff!" I pleaded, scrunching my shoulders up to my ears, my skin crawling. Cora was suddenly swaying her hips right in my eye line. It was almost completely distracting and fantastic enough to make the god awful sound not bother me. Almost.

"Please, turn it off!" I begged. Cora obliged. Saving me, thank you.

"You are the biggest music snob I have ever met. And I'm including myself in that," Cora giggled.

"You don't have to be a music snob to hate freaking Miley Cyrus. You just need a couple of the synapses in your brain firing effectively," I said cryptically. Cora burst out laughing and put on another song.

Ah, much better. Chuck Berry's Johnny B. Goode. Cora danced around in front of me, grabbed my wrist and pulled me to my feet. I tripped, all stiff, and put down the guitar hastily.

"Jive with me," She commanded. Alright, alright. Like I really needed to force myself to dance with the girl I love in our private practice room. Yeah it was a real tough-y. For the first time in my life, I was grateful they count square dancing as an athletic activity that should be taught in high school PE.

"I decided awhile ago that if I could marry a song, I'd marry this one," Cora said, grinning. Really? Odd song to commit yourself to.

"'Course being a commitment-phobe," Cora went on as I spun her into my chest. "I'm open to affairs," She said, her chuckling gorgeous voice right near my ear. Just the word 'affair' coming out of Cora's mouth made me giggle excitedly. I snorted loudly and chuckled as we kept dancing.