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I don’t even know her.”“Really? That’s good.”“Why is that good?”“Because I think you’re cute and I don’t like competition.”“Shit. You’re direct, aren’t you?”“Always have been, always will. And since we’re being direct, you should know I don’t plan to have sex until I’m married. So with that said, do you want to go out sometime?”With a smile, I said, “Sure.”“Good,” she said, popping the last french fry in her mouth and then wiped her hands and lips with her napkin. “How about tonight at seven. Meet me in Goods lobby, and don’t be late.”And with that, she picked up her empty tray and left without looking back. She had eaten three times the amount I had bought, and I still had half my hamburger left. I sat there trying to figure out when she had time to eat it all when she had done most of the talking.Then it hit me. I had agreed to go out on a date that night with her. I couldn’t believe it. In five minutes, I had gone from not knowing a single soul at the school to having a date with. I could feel the gentle curve of her cheek and the soft strength of her chin under the caress of my fingers. I could taste the sweetness of her kiss when our lips met. The memories of her so fresh, so painful. I remember the public her, the little black dress that had the men drooling, queuing up in a long line for a simple dance with my gorgeous wife, the smile that lit the room and infected everyone with a joy of life and a lust for living. I remembered the envy others directed toward me, for simply being with her and I felt the pride, pride for having had her choose me for her partner. The pain rolled through my soul as I recalled the private woman, the girl who so casually cuddled her nude body against mine, sending thrills through me, as she smiled that smile that turned my insides gushy and warm and so filled me with content. I could almost hear the giggles of adults at post sexual play, a gift shared between us, never to be again. The anguish overwhelmed me. I wanted her so..
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