My Heart Always Knew
A young American coed falls for a young Arab medical student. From the beginning it is love but Olympia is not as free as she needs to be to allow Anwar’s attentions toward her. There is a conflict within her family that makes accepting a new love difficult at first. Moses the neighbor across the street, and current boyfriend, uses any means to keep her by his side. But Anwar is a young man that knows what he wants and needs, and has no problems with going hard for it. After doing all he is duty bound to do for his family he has decided it is time to go for his own personal happiness. The one thing he must have is Olympia.
“Anwar! Open your eyes, sweetie!” He was breathing, thank God, but still not responding to me. “Anwar?” I hated to leave his side to call nine one one. “Yes, please! My husband… I think he just had a heart attack! We live at Delvin Drive East, the penthouse.” I tried to calm myself by breathing in deep breaths of air between words as I answered the dispatcher’s questions.
“Olympia…” His weakened voice turned me around. He was awake and trying to sit up. “Dearest?”
“I’m right here, darling. I’m on the phone.” The voice on the line assured me an ambulance was on the way. “Thank you. Thank you.” I dropped the phone and ran to my husband’s side on the floor. “No, honey. Stay still.” I cradled his head in my lap caressing his rough check. He hadn’t shaved for a couple of days. I wondered if he were starting another beard. “The ambulance is on the way.” I began to cry, as I was not sure if he was going to recover or have another attack.
“Pia, you must get dressed.”
“Anwar, I’m not going to leave you alone.” I didn’t care who saw my naked ass, if it meant my husband might take his last breath without me.
“Please. I’m not dying. Hurry now.” I did as he requested, after grabbing the slacks and pullover I discarded earlier in the day, carelessly tossing them into that awful mint green fainting chair my sister in law presented to me on my birthday. I had a feeling she recycled it from among the things in her attic from her younger days because it smelled faintly of mothballs. I never intended to faint on it. I stepped into my shoes and thought I should put pants and shirt on Anwar. Before I could start to dress him, he grabbed my hand and tried to pull himself up from the floor. I hurried to put a supportive arm around his middle and helped him to the bed. “Okay,” he let out a heavy sigh and lay back against the pillows. “Give me those pants.”
After he finished dressing himself, he lay back again, his hazel-eyed gaze remained on me. I began to feel like he was making a mental picture of me to keep in his heart forever. I lay down beside him, taking his hand and clutched it near my own rapidly beating heart. “I love you, Anwar. Always.”
“I know, dearest. Please, don’t be scared. I will not leave you tonight.”
“Is it your heart?”
“Are you scared?”
“What is to fear? You are with me.”
Our families lived directly across the street from each other, but his mother and mine never got along, mainly because his mother was known to claim other people’s children carried germs. So she was selective about who her children were allowed to play with. All through school, until junior year of high school, Moses treated me as if I were invisible. He’d ride his Trans Am full of kids right past me no matter how cold or wet the walk home. Then somehow, out the blue, suddenly he wanted to start walking across the street to offer me rides to school. He’d wait at my locker to see if I needed a ride home, or if I wanted to join him and the gang to hang out at the local burger joint. His treat of course. I habitually told him I did not need a ride or a free burger from him.
Then he had the nerve to start talking to my daddy about cars and fishing. Daddy went for it immediately, but I didn’t. I knew Moses was up to something. He wanted to date me after treating me like a complete nothing since we were five years old. I wasn’t interested, but Daddy thought I should be and pretty much insisted I stop being picky and learn how to get along with boys. Boys that had money and brand new cars. It didn’t hurt either that he was a celebrated jock. Football and golf. The boy was charmed as far as my daddy was concerned. He wanted me to be the girl Moses had on his arm at Homecoming and Senior Prom- and I was. If I’m honest, dating Moses wasn’t so bad. He was attentive and generous. Sometimes he was romantic too. I can’t say I fell for him or anything, but senior year was a blast because he told everyone I was his girlfriend. Even the cheerleaders acted like I was part of the in crowd.
Moses was the only boy I dated period. Even during my third term in college, I was still stuck with him, even saw myself with him until graduation. I preferred when he came over to make out rather than getting dressed to go with him and then end up meeting up with his crew. I wasn’t a party girl. Drinking until I was drunk enough to pee on myself was no turn on for me. Every now and then he made plans that didn’t include his friends and I appreciated it enough to join the party with his friends maybe once a month. It was important for him to show people I was still his girl. The problem I had most with Moses was that he still behaved as if he were in high school. Oh, and the fact that I didn’t really like him romantically much except for making out in my dorm when the coast was clear. He didn’t even care that I still wouldn’t have intercourse with him. I never understood why he kept dating a dud like me. I sure wasn’t trying to impress him any.
But yet, just three weeks before Thanksgiving, I found myself pinned beneath him in my dorm room on my bed, holding on to his bare shoulders. His erection felt good grinding into my pelvis as he sucked on my nipple.
“Baby, take off your panties. I feel like getting down on you now. He was well built. Tall and beefy with a barrel chest. He kept his head shaved as if ashamed of the blondish brown curls, which complimented his lightly brown complexion. Once stripped, he stood wide-legged over the bed groping and stroking himself rhythmically as he watched me pull my undies down my legs. I enjoyed the lasciviousness of it and smiled back at him. “Take off that bra too, babe. Let me see those twins.” I wore one of the snap front bras he gave me for my birthday. He was good about buying and surprising me with things he discovered I liked or wanted. Those were the times I felt guilty about not liking him the way a girlfriend should like her boyfriend.
“Moses, if you are going to do something, hurry up. You know Christy comes straight back to the dorm after the game.” Last thing I needed was for my roommate to catch a naked Moses with his head between my thighs again. He didn’t care, though it took me two days to even look Christy in the eye again.
“I just want to look at you. Put your hand on your belly and lay back with your other arm behind your head. Oh babe,” he moaned after I complied with his wishes. “Oh, my beautiful baby…” he continued his mantra, stroking himself faster. I watched him, remarking at how much pleasure he got from looking at me while blasting himself off. He bit his lip and put his head back and groaned so loud you’d think he was in pain. “Oh, baby that was… Ahhhhh…”
I looked at the clock. Unless the game was going into overtime, Christy was coming through the door in five minutes or less. I jumped from the bed and dashed into the bathroom to wet a washcloth with warm soapy water. When I returned, Moses was on his back on my bed. I hurried and freshened him up then got myself dressed. As usual he didn’t care if he was caught butt naked again. He moved around in slow motion.
“I swear, Moses. If you don’t get dressed before Christy opens that door.”
“Girl, relax.” He pulled his sweater down his belly and snatched his jeans from the floor. Frowning at me, he stepped into them and buttoned the crotch.
“I promised Christy I’d never subject her to that sight again.”
“Olympia…” He refrained from what he was about to say to sit on the bed to put on his boots.
Just in time because Christy’s key was rattling in the door. I ran back into the bathroom to run my fingers through my hair to fluff it back out on my shoulders. I heard Moses give her a gruff greeting as usual, Christy ignored him to go to the closet and take off her coat. She turned around glaring at me, wrinkling her nose like she could smell the sex we didn’t have.
“So, who won?” I asked, crossing the floor to stand next to Moses.
“Didn’t you hear the cannon?” Cannon fire signified the home team won the game.
“Oh yeah, I guess I did.” She took a can of disinfectant spray she kept on her study desk and gave the room a blanket of sterile pungency. She knew how much I hated that smell. Moses stared at her like she was nuts then looked at me. “Gee, Christy. Embarrass me some more, why don’t you?”
“You should be embarrassed, my friend.”
“Why? You’re the prude, not me,” I snapped.
“Tell her, baby.” Moses stood up and put an arm around me and kissed me slow and deep. Just for Christy’s benefit, of course. “Well,” he said, obviously satisfied with himself. “How about we go to my place while this room airs out?”
“No. I’m going to get some reading in tonight so I can have my weekend free for a change.”
“You sure? I hate to end a good time.”
“See you at breakfast?”
“Can’t promise but I’ll try.” I walked him to the door and kissed him lightly and said good night.
“What do you see in him?” Christy asked after I turned around. “You know he’s not faithful to you.”
“I’m not serious about him. So what do I care?”
“You’ve heard of HIV, haven’t you?”
“Have you heard of minding your own business?” I picked up my coat from the floor and pulled it on. “Want to walk down to Marco’s with me and get a slice?”
“He didn’t feed you?”
“Speaking of feeding,” I retorted, zipping up my coat while giving her tall, skinny body a going over. She was five ten and weighed a hundred and eight pounds. With her light complexion and long hair, she reminded me of Marilyn McCoo. I was shocked to find out from her little brother that the reason she was so skinny was because she ate as little as possible to remain healthy in order to have infrequent bowel movements. “Well, I’m going while people are moving about. I’ll probably call a cab to come home if I don’t meet up with somebody at the parlor.”
“You need to meet somebody,” Christy snorted as she walked up to lock the door behind me.
“From your lips to God’s ear,” I smirked, just to irk her. I didn’t attend church much and she usually treated me as though I had no relationship with God at all. I liked to remind her she as wrong once in a while.
The bell above the door alerted everyone someone else was joining the gathering. Several heads turned my way then turned back to their own business as I made my way deeper into the parlor hoping to find a free stool at the counter. There were two, I chose the one on the end nearest me. Before I claimed my seat, a tall young man placed his coat on it then sat down. The stool at the end was taken the same time by a couple. The guy let his girl have the seat while he stood near her side.
“Hey,” I demanded of the person that so rudely crossed in front of me to get to my stool first. “How are you going to just do that to a person?”
“Do what?” he asked and spun around on the stool.
“Cross in front of me like that!” Like he didn’t know.
“You know I was coming for this seat.”
“How would I know what your intentions were?”
“You saw me!”
“Verily, I did not.”
“Verily?” He must’ve thought talking like Jesus was going to get me out of his face. Then I realized he was a foreigner, a middle easterner, I heard some of them were rude and obnoxious and probably didn’t know it. So I decided to give him a courtesy pass and not be the loud Black chick going off on somebody over a stool. “Enjoy your seat, asshole,” I said for his ears only then turned to leave.
“I beg your pardon?” He was off the stool and in front of me. The center of his brow was creased. “What did you say to me?”
“I said, enjoy your seat, asshole.” What? He thought he could intimidate me with those light colored eyes or something?
“Is this how you talk to a strange man? Have you no upbringing?”
“Look, you. I was leaving. I don’t appreciate you getting in my way. You stole my seat, you’re one up on me, but don’t push it.” What I was going to do if he did push it, I had no idea.
“Excuse me? I did not push-”
“Will you please step aside?” He stared down at me seeming to think what he would do next. Okay, I regret calling a person an asshole to his face, but I was pissed and kind of cranky. I was often cranky, even as a kid. Maybe that was why I never went out of my way to meet people or put much effort into the few relationships I already had. I wasn’t proud of it or anything, it was just how I was back then. “Please, step aside,” I repeated.
“Please?” he said. “Then you do have manners.”
“Look, Sinbad. Maybe where you come from men think they can treat a woman like a child-”
“Well, that’s who you look like. That is if you tied a rag around your head and wore an earring and-” Dang, what was I saying? How could he look like a fictional character? He probably had no idea who Sinbad was anyway. “I’m out of here.” I walked around him and he followed me a few steps until I spun back around. For a second, it occurred to me I might’ve called the wrong man an asshole. “Why are you following me?”
“I’d like to offer you the chair. You clearly are in need of food. Otherwise, you would not be so full of the grumps.”
“If you mean grumpy. I- I suppose I am. But it’s not your fault. We went for the same stool and you won.” See? I could be magnanimous too.
“Please, let me offer the chair to you.” He headed back to the counter and indicated I should sit on his coat covering the stool. It looked expensive, real cashmere.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“I am insistent.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry, I called you an asshole.” I climbed on the stool after taking off my coat. Like a gentleman, he took and laid it on the counter. The waiter came by and asked for our orders. “I’d like a slice of the thick crust pizza supreme and a glass of beer.” I took out my ID to show the waiter I was indeed old enough to legally drink.
“Why don’t we share a pie and a pitcher?”
“Because I only brought enough to pay for-”
“No, I can’t let you pay for me. I don’t even know you.”
“My name is Anwar.” He gave the waiter the nod to place the order.
“Anwar,” I repeated. “That’s Arab?”
“I’m Olympia. I guess that’s Greek. Friends sometimes call me Pia”
“Do you go to the university?”
“Yes.” The waiter turned around to set two mugs of beer before us then sat down a full pitcher of beer. “Third year. What about you?”
“First term in medical school at University Hospital.”
“Oh really? Wow.” I turned my mug up and chugged about half of the beverage down. I was thirsty so I finished it off. Anwar leaned against the counter grinning at me, amused. His face had the outline of a full beard. I bet he had to shave twice a day. Anwar wore his sleeves rolled back and I noticed how thick the hair on his arms were, and I began to wonder how much hair covered the rest of his body. He seemed to be in great shape too. Not beefy like Moses though he did appear well cut.
“So, why are you out at night with barely enough money for a glass of beer and a slice of pizza?” He took the liberty and refilled my mug.
“I got hungry,” I said. “And my roommate just about worked my last nerve tonight. Instead of ordering in I came out.”
“On a Friday night, you are alone,” he observed.
I looked around. There was no girl glaring at us or any group of guys staring in our direction. “Aren’t you?”
“Then I guess, neither am I. Although, I didn’t come out looking for company.” The waiter returned with our pan of pizza and two plates. Anwar separated us each a slice. I hated he had to stand up while I sat on the stool. Besides, it was kind of awkward for conversation. I stood up to eat with him. “What country are you from,” I asked.
“I’m from Missouri.”
“Missouri?” He pronounced it as if he never heard of it before. “Aren’t there good universities in your home state?”
“Yes, but Missouri didn’t think I deserved a full scholarship. Even so, I preferred to stay closer to home, but my father insisted I get myself out into the world. What about you? Do you like being so far from home?”
“Alas, I do not.” He appeared sad for a quick moment. “It has been three years since I saw my mother. Father makes trips to New York twice a year. I manage to fly up to meet him.”
“Are you going back home after medical school?”
“I intend to remain here and work with my uncle. Can I ask you something?”
“Would you consider leaving your homeland for an opportunity?”
“For good? I don’t think so.”
“Not even for marriage? What if you and I fell in love and you knew in your heart there could never be a truer love between two people?”
“Wow.” I considered the question. I’d never experienced love between two people, but had a few ideas. “I don’t believe love conquers all, so the answer is no. I wouldn’t subject myself to a society that will undoubtedly treat me worse than my own country.”
“Well, that was quite blunt.”
“I admit, I don’t know much about your culture, but from the religious aspect, I can’t give up everything I know.”
“Actually, I was referring to your outlook on love.”
“Okay, let’s put this on the other foot,” I said. “If you truly loved me and the only way to have me is to stay in this country with me. Would you think I was worth all that sacrifice?”
“What?” I assumed men expected women to give up their names, their homes, and family to prove their devotion but weren’t so ready to do the same. Sure they’d work hard and fight a grizzly bear for the woman he loved, but give up everything he was born to?
“Love between two people is the rarest and most valuable jewel found in this vast multiverse.” True. I definitely went along with that. I took a big bite of my gooey triangle of pizza. “If my heart and soul are given to another,” Anwar went on while I chewed my mouthful. “I must stay with her to live.”
“Love is alchemy. Two people become the halves of one whole.”
“Are you for real?” I blurted. Men didn’t just stand there and start talking about love. He was trying to work me or something. Probably read that stuff about jewels and alchemy in The Worldwide Player’s Handbook. “You think people from different worlds can live together happily? And forever?”
“You don’t believe it has been done before?”
“I guess, I’m just speaking for myself then.”
“You would not date an Arab man?”
“Sure, I’d date anyone if I liked him, but I’m not going to let him put me through changes just to be with him.”
“Have you dated many American girls?”
“When I say American, I mean Black.”
“Yes. I’ve dated Black girls and I’ve Black friends and colleagues.”
“So, you like Black girls,” I said. “Now, that’s interesting.”
“That’s interesting, or am I interesting?”
“You obviously think you are,” I bluntly shared my observation. I could see why too. He was one sexy man! And giving me all his attention.
“You had me interested the moment you repeated I was an asshole.”
“You realize that makes you weird?” A handsome weirdo and kind of classy. He wore dark dress pants and a dark blue shirt that I suspected earlier in the day included a tie. On his wrist was a gold chain bracelet and no watch. A man with time to spare and nowhere to be? He sure seemed relaxed with me, and I was enjoying this chance meeting with him as well. Moses and I never spent time alone shooting the breeze. It was a party or messing around. Right now, we were in a crowded old time pizza parlor and I felt I was alone with Anwar. I was the center of his attention.
“You don’t have a boyfriend?”
“I have a friend from my hometown. We get together sometimes.”
“Not an official relationship?”
“I guess not,” I said and finished off my last beer for the night. After placing the mug on the countertop, I reached in my pants pocket and pulled a ten dollar bill.
“No, Pia. A man will not enjoy a woman’s company then allow her to pay for the privilege.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I am enjoying this time with you very much.” I know he knew I meant about me paying my share. He was openly flirting now. He’d moved closer when I reached into my pocket. “I wish you did not have to leave now.”
“Who said I was leaving?” I stuffed the bill back in my pocket then looked him right in those enticing hazel eyes. He stared back. I hoped he thought I was pretty. “I can stay another minute.”
“Only a minute?” He was so close now I heard the husky sound of his voice over the jukebox. “I’m glad we met tonight.”
“I’d like to see you again.”
“I come here a lot, so I’m sure-”
“I mean a date. Will you go out with me?”
“Um…” He moved in slowly, cradled my face in his palm then kissed me. Not just a smooch but a full blown kiss in a crowded establishment. For a few seconds, it was like we were the only two people alive. “That was nice,” I said after he released my lips. “Real nice.” He kissed me again. Short and sweet. “Why did you do that?” I wanted to sit down before my knees gave out. I felt like I’d been kissed for the very first time.
“In case, you decided not to see me again. I wanted to know what it is like to kiss you.”
“Was it what you expected?”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
“You didn’t kiss me back.”
“I don’t kiss men I just met.”
“If I kissed you again will you kiss me back?”
“Nope.” Wouldn’t you know it, he kissed me again anyway! “Okay.” I reached for my coat. “Enough of that.” I pulled on my coat and watched him like I expected him to jump my bones. “What is your last name?”
Anwar Faakhir. I could remember that. “My last name is Jennings.”
“Olympia Jennings, may I have your phone number?”
“Yes. Do you have a pen?”
“I should.” He grabbed his coat, from the inside breast pocket he pulled out a couple of cards. “This is my family’s business here in America. Would you write down your phone number?”
“Sure.” I read the card first. “Your family manufactures and trade in pharmaceuticals? That’s big business.” He didn’t comment as I wrote down my phone number. “Here.” He also took the pen and scribbled on the other card then handed it to me. “Are you really going to call me?”
“If I take too long, you may call me,” he answered with a smile I had to return.
I placed the card in my coat pocket then zipped it up to my neck. “Anwar, it was nice meeting you and thanks for feeding me.”
“I’d like to see you to your dorm.” He began pulling on his coat.
“Oh, that isn’t-” What was I saying? I’d love to be walked back safely to my dorm with a handsome young man. “All right, I’d appreciate it very much.”
The night had gotten colder. The brisk air was nice though and the sky was clear. I looked over at Anwar and wondered how much cold weather affected him being a person used to the arid climates. His coat was stylish but not very functional for the cold evening.
He took my hand and led me to his car in the parking lot. He pushed a button on his key ring and the doors opened like wings. I walked around the white and silver machine checking it out as if I knew anything about cars. It looked impressive and I knew that car cost more than my parent’s house was worth. I got inside and felt more like I was lying down than sitting. Anwar got in and we took off. He glanced at me briefly then kept his eyes on the street.
In the student parking lot he got out with me and walked me inside to the lobby. I stopped at the elevator to say good night. Seemed like all eyes were on us. I hoped he didn’t think it was a good idea to kiss me again with so many people milling about the lobby. And just my luck, from out of the elevator came Christy. I tried to ignore her and hoped she’d take the hint.
“Olympia?” She did a double take at Anwar. It was obvious he was with me as he stood so close. I knew she was thinking the worst about me seeing two men in one night. “I was about to go looking for you!”
“What for? You know where I went.”
“Doesn’t take this long to get a slice.”
“How would you know?” I gave her the eyes that I hoped conveyed I would choke her to death if she didn’t get out of my face. Then I remembered my manners. “Anwar, this is Christy, my roommate. Christy, this is Anwar.”
“Hello.” Christy offered him her hand. “Pleased to meet you. This girl never tells me anything. I had no idea she went out to meet someone.”
“That’s because you aren’t my mother.” What was she lingering around for? “Christy?”
“I’m trying to say good night.”
“Oh. I’m going to get a soda. I’ll see you upstairs then.”
“Cool.” I waited until she bounced her tall skinny butt into the lounge. “Anyway, thanks for seeing me back.”
“Thank you for allowing me the pleasure.”
“Your family is into more than pharmaceuticals, right?” After seeing that car, I knew his family was more than wealthy. They were probably fabulously rich. What was it with me attracting rich guys? Okay, just two. But it was two for two.
“We are also in the oil trade.” Great. He was filthy rich and Islamic. And he kissed me three times. “Why am I getting the impression that being rich is a strike against me? If you are having second thoughts about getting to know me, I understand.”
“You do?” Why did his eyes get so big? He was bluffing me? “I’m not so sure we have anything in common, now that I think about it. I’m sorry.”
“No, I- I understand. Good night.”
Christy passed him coming back from the lounge and tried to catch his eye, but Anwar’s eyes were focused on the exit. Poor guy, I felt like I led him on up to the last minute then closed shop. Which is exactly what I done.
Christy finally came back into our room after I showered and climbed under the covers of my twin bed. About two hours ago, I’d been rolling around with Moses thinking I was having a good time. After talking to a man who was actually talking to me, I finally saw what Christy in her prudish judgmental style was trying to tell me. I’d sold myself cheap to Moses since high school.
I turned over after I heard Christy settle on her own bed. She enjoyed reading comic books. Archie, and Betty and Veronica, especially. Seemed most of us had one foot into adulthood and the other in high school in some form or another.
“You going to read those again?”
“These are new,” Christy answered and tossed an Archie Andrews Where Are You Digest across the space between us. The spine landed on my nose and hurt. “Oops! I’m sorry.”
“You better be,” I grumbled. “Shoot me a Betty and Veronica,” I demanded. “I don’t like Little Archie.”
“That’s not Little Archie.”
“Yeah, but it might as well be as every other story is Little Archie. Shucks, I’d rather read Jughead Jones.”
“I don’t care for Jughead.”
“Because he’s gay?” I teased.
“He’s not gay. And I’m not that ignorant.” Christy flipped through her digest for a couple of pages before she let it slip from her fingers. Gazing at me was more important it seemed. “Hey,” she said. “What’s up with you and that guy?”
“Nothing’s up. I just met him tonight.”
“You like him?”
“He’s all right.”
“Arab,” I corrected then looked at her. “And a practicing Muslim.”
“Oh my.” Then, “Are you going to see him again?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I figured you shot him down. I don’t get you, Olympia. You date a no good like Moses and let him do whatever he wants to you, but a decent looking guy shows interests and you don’t want to see him again. What’s that about?”
“Okay, number one. Where do you get off calling Moses a no good? Two, he doesn’t do whatever he wants. Three, he does whatever I want him to do to me. That includes tasting my pussy because I love it.”
“If you knew how gross that looks.”
“I don’t care how it looks. If feels wonderful.”
“Is that all that matters to you? Feeling good for a few minutes? Where’s your self-respect?”
“What’s it to you, Christy? I don’t bug you about abstaining from sex. We’re both grown and free to make our own choices.”
“What’s that guy’s name again?”
“Anwar,” I said.
“So what’s wrong with him?”
“Probably nothing. I don’t think I should get involved with a foreigner. Next year I’m graduating and starting my life. My real life, Christy. Not this life under my folks and living in dorms with strangers that are more in my business than my own sisters.”
“What about Moses? Is he going to be part of your real life?”
“Then why not drop him and give somebody else a chance? Somebody that will treat you like a lady and not a slut.”
“All right, Christy. You better think about watching your mouth.” That was it, I was done with that girl. I took her precious comic book and slung it against the bathroom door. I glared back at her and hoped she had something else to say. She didn’t so I turned over giving her my back. It was still early just past eight o’clock. As I lay in bed, ignoring my roommate, it occurred to me sleep wasn’t going to come soon because I knew I had done Anwar wrong. I should’ve paid for my own food and left. If I had acted prudently, he never would have thought about kissing me. I rolled over to my back and let out a breath.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“I made a mistake tonight, Christy.”
“What did you do?”
“I led him on. I did like him though.”
“Okay, you thought you liked him then thought better of it. It’s better than getting involved and then finding out your heart isn’t in it.”
“He seemed so disappointed.”
“Seems like you are too. And he sure is handsome.”
“Nice too. He’s different than anybody I ever met.”
“He’s a foreigner, of course, he’s different.” All of a sudden, Christy was in a good mood. “He acted like a gentleman too.”
“He uses words like verily and alas.”
“Is he a student?”
“At University Hospital. Second year of med school. He’s going to work with his uncle here in the States if he doesn’t go back home.”
“Either way, he has a few more years in the US. If that’s a concern.”
I hadn’t thought of beyond the following year when I graduated. I was leaving to see the world. I didn’t want or need emotional attachment holding me down. I’d be free as a bird sailing high into the wide sky.