All The Pretty Girls
Rating: G to PG-13-ish.
Some language.
Feedback:
Yes please,
dizzy198333@hotmail.com
Summary: An AU fic. Jessie and Katie never met
in high school, but are now both at college in the same year, studying the same
course.
PART 21
I never thought I'd see the day that I'd actually want to avoid
Jessie. She's my girlfriend. She's beautiful. She's funny.
She's cute. She's smart. How could I not want to see her? How
could I not want to talk to her? Hold her? Kiss her?
In any other circumstances, of course I'd want those things. But
not today. Not after what I've done. Slept with Sarah, and lied
about it.
Well not lied...omitted to tell Jessie the truth.
Okay, so I lied. Sue me.
So today I just can't bear the thought of seeing her. I feel so
guilty that I don't think I could look her in the face.
What's unfortunate, though, is that seeing her seems inevitable,
since she's in all of my classes and if I miss any more I'm sure to
fail. I have to show up, and thus will have to see her. And
probably Sarah as well. I feel doomed. I am doomed. If I can't be
with someone as perfect as Jessie and not screw it up, I am doomed
to be alone for all eternity. See, just the thought of being
without Jessie unleashes the drama queen within!
Obviously I have to come clean, tell Jessie the truth. But not
today, not in public, and I know that if I see her I won't be able
to hide my guilt from her. What I need is a quick fix, a way to
avoid her, just until the end of class. So in true Katie style I
decide to show up late, and sit at the back. That way I can
hopefully make my get away.
Good in theory.
Good in theory, if you're not an idiot who tends to trip over her
own feet almost daily.
I sneak in five minutes into the lecture. It's art history which I
actually enjoy, but the professor hates me. It's mutual. The way
he drones on in his monotone makes an okay subject totally boring.
"...so where modernism was a stark rejection of the past in response
to nineteenth century eclecticism..."
Yawn. Just show us some pretty pictures.
"...post-modernism does not deny our past, and uses lessons from
history to inform our thinking..."
I'm listening to him as I find a seat, I've managed to slip in the
back, unnoticed as yet, but the only seat available back here is in
the middle of a row. I groan internally and start to, as
unobtrusively as possible, climb around everyone to make it there.
As if that'd work! I make it about half way before I fall flat on
my face with a loud thud. Someone's sweater has managed to snake
it's way around my ankles as I made my way to my seat.
How embarrassing.
"Miss Singer, so nice you're here - I almost forgot what you looked
like," my professor smirks, as I pick myself up and brush myself
off, "Perhaps, since you are so informed on this topic - considering
you don't feel the need to come on time to class - you could
explain."
"Uh, explain what?" I stutter. Great. I don't need this shit.
"Explain how post-modernism differs from nineteenth century
eclecticism."
"Uh, I don't know...I guess uh...it's kinda like, uh..." I stutter,
trying desperately to remember some of the few chapters of reading
that I actually bothered to look at.
"Whenever you're ready, Miss Singer."
"Well I guess, uh, in the nineteenth century they just copied
stuff. They made their buildings look like classical and gothic
architecture, but with post-modernism they used the theoretical
framework behind the classical architecture, and interpreted it and
gave it a contemporary context," I state triumphantly. Hey, I
actually remembered something...maybe I should give that whole
studying thing a try.
My professor scowls, and gives faint praise, "Close enough. Take a
seat, Miss Singer."
I finally make it to my seat with a satisfied grin on my face. Take
that asshole. But my grin fades when I look up the front and see
Jessie smiling at me, looking proud of me. I smile back
unconvincingly as the guilt washes over me again, and I realise that
it'll be useless trying to slip away after class unnoticed now.
**********
After class Jessie bounds up behind me and wraps me tightly in her
arms, "It's a good thing you're so clever, otherwise he would have
picked on you for the rest of the semester," she coos, and traces
some soft kisses down the back of my neck, "Have you seen the way he
crucifies Josh?"
"No, 'cause I'm never in class," I state coolly, trying to
discourage her affections, I feel too guilty to enjoy her touch.
I shrug her off and wriggle out of her arms, turning to face her.
She looks a little hurt, so I smile reassuringly, "Sorry. It's
quite warm."
She looks as though she accepts this, and smiles at me, albeit a
little half heartedly. "So, what are you doing now?" she asks me,
trying to get this slow moving conversation off the ground.
"Uh, I have to go to the library...to study."
She raises her eyebrows in a way that says 'you? study?', and she
offers to come with me.
"Uh, no...I'm meeting some people from my econ study group, so I'd
better go by myself. I'll see you later though," I tell her giving
her a quick peck on the forehead.
"Katie..." she begins seriously as I begin to walk off.
"Yeah," I stop in my tracks and again turn to face her.
"Is something wrong?"
"What? No!" I assure her unconvincingly. "I just have a busy
afternoon, that's all." God I hate myself.
"Okay," she huffs, " I'll see you later."
And with that she was gone.
**********
The rest of the day passed uneventfully and I made it home without
seeing Jessie again. Which half of me was relieved about, but the
other half ached uncontrollably to be with her.
So it's understandable that when she showed up at my door I was all
at one pleased and apprehensive.
No, I'm lying. I was just plain terrified, because I knew what I
had to do.