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Getting Out

I was more F than A or C, but any way you look at it, I was an AFC. An Average Frustrated Chump. I had a crush on a girl named Renee, who lived on my floor in the dorm.

For weeks I lived in agony, wondering if she liked me. I'd make subtle hints and get back subtle responses which weren't nearly conclusive enough for me to do anything about it.

Things came to a head on Friday night. I had to ask her. Not in person, of course. On AIM.

Last Call

On Chasing Serendipity

Richard stood transfixed for a heartbeat, then wrenched his gaze to the side. His voice, commendably, was just shy of even. "Julia..- How are you?"

A turquoise shimmer, the click of heels against pavement. His eyes returned to the impeccably dressed woman after Ryan locked away the surprise he knew they'd shown. She moved closer and he made no move as a familiar perfume forced its way into his mind, listened closely as she spoke, "Richard, come on. It's not like we're just acquaintances."

They certainly weren't. He pushed off the wall and slid easily to stand before Julia with a lithe ease that very nearly concealed a stiffening of muscles, hand outstretched. Richard returned her regal stare. "Poor manners. It's good to see you."

She gave him a look, lowered her eyelids, raised her eyebrows, tilted her head, haughty as he remembered. Rolled her eyes without rolling her eyes. She moved forward, noting the minute recoil Richard made as he fought the urge to keep the distance. He could not refuse the implicit gesture, and raised his arms. Julia pressed against him. "We're not shaking hands. Really?"

She let go, though Richard noticed she remained standing intimately close. A light caress of his tie yanked his thoughts into the present. "You did great tonight. You and that professional. Her dress was pretty, wasn't it? She was... elegant."

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