Chapter 2

"... to touch is to heal, to hurt is to steal, if you wanna kiss the sky you'd better learn how to kneel, on your knees boy..."

After the movie, she dropped me back at my place with a chaste kiss good night, and went home. We never did go anywhere to get better acquainted. As a result, I figured she found me boring, and I never thought anything would come of it. I suppose she expected me to try something in the theater -- we had been almost alone -- but I hadn't even tried to hold her hand. I think that I was a little intimidated by her. She was more forward than any other woman I had met, and that scared me.

I went to history class the next week, sat in my usual place, and waited to see if she would appear. Tuesday she didn't come to class but on Thursday, about thirty seconds before the lecture started, Kathy slammed down into the seat next to me. She gave me a half-assed smile, bent over to put her backpack down flashing me some cleavage in the process, and settled in for the lecture. She didn't say a word, or do any of her normal tricks during the lecture, much to my surprise (and dismay). At the end of the lecture, she asked me, "Would you be willing to come over and help me study for our next test? I got caught up in something Tuesday and couldn't make it to class."

"Sure, but our next test isn't for three weeks," once again she had me confused.

"I know, but I need to get those notes from you, and from some of the other lectures. A months worth of my notes got soaked on Tuesday and they are almost unreadable. I also did really bad on that first test and I need to pass this class. Besides, I'll cook you dinner. I mean it is the least I can do for you saving me from all those drunk fraternity boys last weekend."

"OK," I replied, " where and when."

"Friday, seven o'clock at my place. I live in the Sun Ring apartments off Franciscan, apartment 303. See ya then."

With that she was gone, and once again I was sprinting to my next class.

On Friday, I got cleaned up after my last class, and headed over to her apartment about six forty-five. I wanted to make sure I knew how to get there. The complex wasn't hard to find, and right at seven, I was ringing her doorbell. She answered wearing cut-off jeans -- cut very short and high on the leg -- and a white half shirt that didn't do much to contain her bouncing, braless bosoms.

"Hi, glad you found the place. Dinner is almost ready, but I really need to change. Help yourself, there's beer in the fridge, and I won't be a moment."

I wandered into the large apartment and closed the door behind me, as she strode down the short hallway, into the bedroom in the back. The apartment was modestly furnished. A small light blue love seat and matching easy chair dominated the living room, with a small glass-topped coffee table in front of the twenty-inch color television. There were two brown bookshelf units, both overflowing with books, sharing the wall with the door. To my right, a sliding glass door that led out onto a small balcony with two wooden folding chairs surrounding a small white glass-topped table, overlooking the back of the complex. She had a few matted prints on the wall behind the television., including a poster of Picasso's 'Don Quixote'.

I found the kitchen off to my left by following my nose. It was only separated from the living room by a small half wall. At least she has decent taste in beer, I thought, as I got a Corona out of the refrigerator. It smelled like she was baking chicken but before I could open the oven and look, she returned. "I hope you like chicken. I have this great recipe for tequila lime chicken that I wanted to try. While I get it out, would you get me a beer?"

It took several minutes for that to all sink in, much to Kathy's obvious delight. By the time I recovered, I suppose I must have looked rather foolish, the puddle of drool around my feet not helping. She had returned from her bedroom in a deep blue blouse with the top 3 buttons undone, denim mini-skirt (I told you that was all she had in her wardrobe), black stockings and sandles. Needless to say, I felt a bit underdressed in jeans and a three button white polo shirt.

As I reached in to the refrigerator to get her beer -- and cover my embarrassment -- she brushed up against me. I jumped a little, then realized that she was reaching down next to me into the well stocked liquor cabinet. She winked at me, pulled out a bottle of Jose Cuervo, two shot glasses, and a tub of marguerita salt. She set those on the counter and poured a shot of tequila into a bowl.

"Can you hand me the lime juice in the door and a lime from the crisper?"

I handed her the requested items, and watched in fascination as she mixed the lime juice in the tequila, added some oregano and garlic, and with a small brush basted the chicken. Then she proceeded to cut the lime into six pieces, salt the rims of the shot glasses, and fill them with tequila.

"Here's to the ancient Romans," she quipped as she handed me the shot with a slice of lime, " they really knew how to drink, just not what." Kathy promptly licked the salt, slammed the shot and sucked on her lime. I followed suit, making faces while the tequila went burning down my throat. I hadn't done a tequila shot since I was a freshman. I suppose that I looked kind of foolilsh, especially since I was still holding the beer I'd gotten out of the refrigerator for her.

Then she smiled and said, "I'll take that beer now."

I handed it to her.

"Dinner will take about ten to fifteen more minutes, so let's get set up on the coffee table."

"Do you always get this dressed up to study?" I sounded a bit strangled, but I had to say something.

"No, I just wanted to look nice for you, and not like some tramp running around in cut-offs without a bra on, not that you noticed that fact," she said with a wink, "Besides, this is comfortable for me. And if we decide to go out later, I'm already dressed." She reached into another cupboard and retrieved two beer steins. Squeezing a section of lime into each of them, she handed me one and poured her beer in. I did the same and followed her back into her living room. I got my notes out, and she did the same. I handed her the ones she was missing, and started going over them. We hadn't covered much ground when the buzzer rang to tell us dinner was ready. Kathy got up and went into the kitchen. She brought out the chicken and vegetables, and set them on the coffee table. I moved our notes and we ate in silence. She was an excellent cook, and I let her know. She blushed lightly, and said nothing. The longer the meal went on, the more uptight she seemed to get. As we finished, Kathy excused herself, and returned with the tequila, shot glasses and limes. We did another shot, then decided to get back to studying. I helped her clear the dishes, which she just put in the sink to soak, and we returned to the coffee table. After about thirty minutes of studying, Kathy wanted to take a break.

"Let's take a break, and do some more shots." With that she went back into the kitchen to get more limes. She returned momentarily with the limes cut up in a bowl. In retrospect, I suppose that the way she drank should have been a tip off to other problems she might have, but since I hadn't gotten laid in several weeks, I let it pass. Big mistake, lack of forethought will do that to you, but I had a feeling she was looking for some attention herself. Besides, the more she drank, the more relaxed she seemed to get.