Page 21 of First Impressions Series

The more I thought about it, though, the more I thought he probably treated me differently than the girls he usually hooked up with because he didn’t see me in that way. I was more of a friend or maybe even like one of the guys, although I wasn’t much of a Tom-boy by any means.

Who knows? I just knew that things were a lot different than I thought they would be, despite not being aware of any pre-made expectations of how this all would go.

That night, I dressed down in a comfortable pair of jeans, a white, fitted, Coca-Cola T-shirt, and some mismatched ankle socks. My hair was pulled back in a messy bun. I wanted to be as casual as possible.

I decided to make dinner for Clara and me, a chicken stir fry with a side of jasmine rice, and we ate it in the kitchen with some fancy chopsticks I had found in an Asian food store a while back. We were getting really good with those chopsticks.

I finally decided to tell Clara about Dylan, more out of necessity than because I wanted to, since it was pretty likely she would see him when he knocked on our door tonight. I didn’t want to give her the opportunity to get the wrong idea about Dylan and me. I almost had to cover my ears when she squealed in delight.

“Dylan freaking Porter? Marzia Benagli, are you kidding me? When did this happen? How did this happen? Has he kissed you yet? I mean, how are those amazing lips? I’ve heard he has magic lips. Is it true?” Clara was obviously overreacting. So much for not getting the wrong idea.

“No, Clara, seriously, it’s not like that. This is really a sort of school project. Like a case study type of thing that he’s helping me with. I just happen to be helping him in the process. It’s like a mutual benefit kind of thing,” I tried to explain.

The look on Clara’s face told me she was not buying it.

“You don’t have to believe me. Just don’t be all gawky and make things awkward when he gets here, okay?” I pleaded with her. “Please just be cool.”

“Okay, okay. Geez. I’ll try to make myself scarce. I was thinking about going over to the Book Shelf to see who was there tonight anyway,” Clara said.

“Where is Cason tonight?” I asked.

“I don’t know. He said he had some work to do out of town this week and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. I don’t mind, though. It gives me some time to hang out with some other friends I haven’t seen in a while. I’ll meet up with Cason tomorrow night when he gets back into town.” Clara wasn’t quite ready to give up her promiscuous lifestyle just yet, apparently, even if she did have it pretty bad for Cason.

At about eight-thirty p.m., there was a knock on the door. Dylan had arrived. I let him in, took his jacket, and showed him to the sofa to sit while I offered him a drink. I was having a glass of wine, but luckily we had some beer in the fridge, since that was Clara’s preference.

Dylan thanked me for the beer, took his jacket off, and got comfortable. He seemed to feel at ease here, which I liked.

Clara came in and I introduced her to Dylan.

“Hi, Dylan, it’s so nice to meet you. I hope you two have fun tonight. I was just heading out, but I look forward to seeing you again soon. We’ll have to all hang out sometime, like a double date or something.” Clara really needed to work on her subtlety.

I watched Dylan to see his reaction, expecting him to protest in some way, but he didn’t. He just gave Clara an award-winning smile and told her he looked forward to it.

“Sorry about that,” I apologized as soon as Clara left the apartment. “So how was your game last week?”

I turned on a Netflix movie but turned the volume down, more for some background noise than anything else.

“It was great if you don’t consider that we lost by two points. It was a close game, though, and we played hard. We played a good team.”

“I’m glad to see you’re such a good sport about it.”

I thought it was pretty telling that he was so positive about the other team winning even after his own team lost the game. Most guys would have talked crap, but that didn’t seem to be Dylan’s style. I had to admit, I liked that about him.

If I was being honest, there was a lot I already liked about him. Now it was time to learn more.

“So tell me about you. Where are you from? Tell me about your family,” I said, getting us started.

“Well, I’m originally from Houston, but we moved to Tennessee for a while after my mother died when I was two. My older brother, Devin, and I were raised by my dad.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry about your mom. Did your dad ever remarry?” I asked.

“No, he really never settled down with any one person after my mom. I guess you could say he played the field a lot after that. I don’t think he really ever got over my mom, so it was almost like he tried to fill the void she left by dating one woman after another.”

Interesting, I thought. This could go a long way toward explaining his attitude toward women.

“Do you remember your mother at all?” I made sure to use the same word he used, mother instead of mom.

“No, not really. Sometimes I dream about her, but I don’t know if they are memories, or just things my mind makes up to fill in the gaps, you know? I was so young when she died. My brother remembers her a lot better than I do.”

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