Can I Be Your Superman

Forgetfulness and Dates

Then, a horrifying thought entered my mind.  

  "Ian, how are we getting to your house?" I questioned hesitantly.  

  "My bike. How else?"  

  This was not going to go well.  

  @--)--- @--)--- @--)---    

"Ian, please, please, please let me get a pair of pants on...."  

  "No, why would I do that?"  

  "Think about it! We'll be travelling who knows how fast down a freaking highway, on a motorcycle, outside... and I'm going to be in the shortest miniskirt I have the misfortune of owning!"  

  Frowning for a moment, I saw Ian make the connection.  

  "Ah," he stated.  

  "Yeah, so can I go put pants on? Pleeease??" I begged, stretching out the 'e'.

    "No. You can, however, go put leggings on," Ian countered.

  Figuring it was the best deal I was going to be able to get, I ran back into my room and found a pair of black leggings. Bending over in front of the mirror to put them on, my boobs almost fell out of my shirt! I can't freaking wear this! I look like a little slut begging for... well, anything and everything that anyone would offer.   

  "Ugh," I thought. Disgusted with it, I took off my shirt and replaced it with on that was similar, but much, much less revealing.     

After putting on Rose's black high-heeled boots I had borrowed, I put my sweater back on and ran out the door to my room. Seeing Ian standing in the hallway, I walked over to him, nervous and hoping he wouldn't make the connection that I had been in my room for a few minutes to long.    

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Ian asked when I hesitated. "Let's go!"    

As we walked down the hallway, I couldn't help but look and see if Rose or someone was wandering the hallways. Thank goodness, the coast was clear. Especially since I told Rose, she could have her boots back.    

As we exited the apartment, there stood -looking sleek and fast- Ian's bike on the sidewalk.    

"Huh," I said, sarcastically. "I always thought it was illegal to park on a sidewalk. Apparently I was mistaken."  

  "Get on."  

  What is up with me today? I'm snarky, sarcastic.... I'm not scared, not really. What’s most surprising is that Ian is almost... bearable? I suppose that's the word. But why? Why am I acting so different? So carefree? What has gotten into me?  

  Suddenly, my thoughts were interrupted when Ian jump-started the motorcycle and took off at some very dangerous high speeds... carefully tilting my head, I caught a glimpse of the speedometer and immediately wished I hadn't.   

  Ian was travelling- and weaving illegally through traffic- at 160km/h.     

Well, if we crash, I'm not going to feel any pain when I die.     

Yet, with the knowledge of my almost imminent death, I felt strangely calm. As if no one could hurt me anyhow, even though I’m travelling fast enough to kill me in a car, and there are no seat belts on this dangerous machine of death.    

Soon enough, almost too soon, we reached Ian's house and I became nervous immediately. If he realizes that I changed my top, or that I’m not telling him what happened, he's not going to bepleased.    

Wow, I can't believe I got the crap kicked out of me only yesterday. Yesterday afternoon, but yesterday nonetheless. Tiem flies.... I wonder if I look as bad as I did when I walked into class.