That Stupid Little L-Word:

Chapter Thirty Three:

My grip on the Styrofoam cups in my hands tightens, and I eye her warily, "What do you want?"

Bimbo looks like she's just been spat out of hell. Her dull and now dish-water colored hair is curled around the crown of her head in the form of a messy bun, pinned into place by a few sparkly bobby pins. She wears a baggy pair of faded gray sweatpants, and a stained t-shirt to match. She scratches at her forehead and frowns at me. 

"This is going to sound really bitchy, so I want to apologize first," she starts, only adding to my confusion, "I want to apologize for everything. For being such a bitch to you, and for embarrassing you in art class. I'm sorry. I was just upset and bitter." 

I press my lips into a firm line and choose to remain silent. 

She sucks in a deep breath, "And I'm sorry for what I'm about to say." 

She pauses. Her eyes are glued to my face, as if waiting for me to veto her the right to speak, and when I arch an eyebrow,  she continues. "I think you should dump Seth." 

"Huh?"

"I wasn't completely crazy in art that day when I said that Seth was going to ruin you. He will. I've known him for years now, and I dated him for almost two," she rushes to get all the words out, and fumbles over a few. "I know him better then anybody. He's controlling, and arrogant, and-"

I shake my head, cutting her off, "Stop. Right there, just stop." I scowl at her and shift my weight around so it's not focused on my wounded leg. "Seth is nothing like that. At least, he doesn't treat me like that. I would appreciate it if you didn't insult him in front of me." 

"Sorry," Bimbo stops herself mid eye roll, and lets out a sigh, "Look. I was just like you when I first started dating him. He changes. Take it from someone who learned it the hard way." 

"Thanks for warning me," I suppress my frown. 

"Are you going to dump him?" she cocks her head to the side like a dog waiting for a treat, and I let my frown break through. 

"Of course not," I turn my back to her and start walking back to the football field. She doesn't try to stop me again. Blue-Eyes is sitting on the bench, surrounded by some of his teammates, screaming at the top of his lungs as the rest of his teammates scramble to get the ball across the field. I approach him from behind and knee him in the back lightly to get his attention. 

"Oh hey," he whirls around and beams when I realizes that it's just me. He stands and takes one of the drinks from me. He climbs over the bench and smiles warmly down at me, cheeks bright red from all the excitement. "Do you want to go sit in the bleachers?" 

"Sure," I shrug and smile. 

Someone scores a touchdown behind us, and the crowds erupt into an ear-splitting mixture of cheers and boos. I can't even distinguish which side is the disappointed side. He leads me over to the bleachers and, thanks to my cast/brace, several people slide over so we can sit on the first row and don't have to climb. I sip on my soda as the game progresses, and lose my boyfriend to the magical ways of high school football. I make sure to stand when he stands, and scream unintelligible words when his excited shouts blast my eardrums. But I have no idea what's going on. 

We end up winning forty-seven to fifteen, and when the final buzzer screeches across the field to announce the end of the game, everyone around me jumps to their feet. Blue-Eyes races to celebrate with his buddies --complete with tackle-like hugs and the ritual slapping-of-the-ass. 

I just kind of watch from the sidelines and finish off the last of my soda. When the excitement dies down, Blue-Eyes returns to my side, grinning widely, "Do you want to go to an after party?" 

A grimace flashes across my features before I can stop it. His smile fades a bit, but then returns full-force. "Or we could go." 

"Sorry," I smile at him apologetically, "I'm just not used to so much excitement. I don't really come to these kinds of things often." 

"It's fine," he laughs and grabs my elbow, carefully leading me through the crowds toward the courtyard. I keep an eye out for Bimbo as we pass through; I somewhat expect her to pop out at us, and try to convince us to break up or something like that. But she doesn't, and we make it to his car in one solid piece. 

I climb into the passenger side seat and click my seat belt into place. As I settle back into my seat, I realize that someone is watching me. "What?" I ask as I glance toward my boyfriend. 

He grins, "Nothing, sorry. I was just thinking about how beautiful you look tonight." 

I snort. Beautiful is not a term I would ever use to describe myself --especially not when I've been sitting outside in the horrible humid heat for the last four hours. 

Blue-Eyes leans over and presses his lips to my cheek. "I mean it," he whispers, and his hand touches my knee. I flush a bright red color and then he trails small kisses across my jaw, toward my lips. Our lips meet; the sensation bubbling in the pit of my stomach is warm and fluttery, like butterflies. 

A knock raps against the passenger window, and we break apart. 

Embarrassment plagues my cheeks as Blue-Eyes leans back in his seat and presses a button on the panel beside him, lowering the window. One of the campus advisers scowls at us, "No fornicating on school property." 

"Sorry," Blue-Eyes chirps happily, and the campus adviser backs away. He folds his arms across his chest and glares at us through the windshield. I rub at my cheeks and Blue-Eyes rolls the window back up. He wiggles his fingers in a mimicking wave as he backs out of the parking spot and speeds toward the road. 

"We weren't fornicating," I mutter defensively. I'd never gotten in serious trouble for PDA before, and the campus adviser looks ready to arrest us.

"Not yet," I hear Blue-Eyes mumble. 

"What?" My eyes grow wide, and I shoot him a sideways glance. 

The car rolls out of the parking lot, and Blue-Eyes glances at me from the corners of his eyes. His eyebrows furrow, and then his gaze returns to the road. He shrugs slightly, "What? It's true." 

"No it's not," I scowl. "It's not that easy to get into my pants." 

"We've been dating for a month now." 

"And your point?" 

He glances at me again, and then the car makes a sharp turn into a nearby shopping center. I glance out the window and watch as he parks the car. Blue-Eyes turns to face me again, his eyes narrowed, "How long exactly do you plan to make me wait?" 

I glare at him and cross my arms, "Does it matter? You're my boyfriend, you shouldn't be in this just for the sex. And if that's seriously all that you're here for," My jaw clenches as waves of hurt slam into me. Tears prickle at the corners of my eyes as I force the rest of the words to come out, "Then we can just end things right here." 

His expression softens immediately. "I didn't mean it like that Al," his head tilts to the side and he reminds me of a wounded puppy. "Of course I'm not dating you just for the sex."

"Then just be aware that I like to take things slow," I say curtly as I shift my gaze out the window, still not entirely convinced. "You could be waiting for a couple more months." 

"I'm willing to wait," he grumbles and backs the car out of the parking spot, "Even if you give me blue-balls in the process." 

I shoot him a sideways glance, lips pressing into a firm line. He ignores me. I roll my eyes and return my gaze toward the scenery flashing by through the window. 

He's just being a big baby.