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I made myself presentable and re-entered the party. My feller was still in his group drinking, while you've been sinking that pint mate, I thought, your girlfriend been royally fuck by some stranger, right here in the garden. I look around to see if I could find my mystery lover. No one caught my eye, or looked like a likely candidate. Eventually my guy was ready to take me home and did me a favour by pushing his cock into me. For a change, I quite enjoyed it, only because I was replaying, in my mind, the events of earlier. Next morning I got up late, my guy already left to play football. I picked up my party clothes from the pile on the floor, as I did so a small white card fell out. I picked it up, on it was printed a mobile phone number, no name or address just a phone number. It must be my mysterious lover; he had left me his calling card. What to do, do I ring him. Don't be fucking stupid girl, of course you fucking ring him; with shaking fingers I punch in the number."Yes," his. “I’m pretending to teach Twentieth Century American Literature while disguising the fact that I’m doing basic language development for Adult ESL students.”“So you’re playing a game?”“That pretty well sums it up,” she laughed. “They really don’t know anything at this level.”“That’s why they come to your classes,” I admonished. She’d used the same line on me the day we met.“Touché. I admit to being almost as human as you.” We laughed. “So would you like to have dinner tomorrow after work? Cali’s in dress rehearsal. I’d love company.” Her voice sounded hesitant—a little shy. I smiled.“Ms. Marx, are you asking me on a date?”“I guess so,” she said. “Damn it! Don’t make this any harder than it is.”“Andi, I would love to have dinner with you. Anytime. I really can’t wait to see you.”“Really?”“Really.”“Well, I’d better get to class, and you’d better get into cyberspace. Don’t forget an oxygen tank!”“I’ll see you tomorrow night. ‘Bye.”“‘Bye.” I bit my tongue as we disconnected. I’d almost said.
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