Chapter 6: Caught in a Small Gail

Saturday after breakfast -- Larry came in very late and was still in a state of hungover sleep when I left -- I went back to the library and continued my research. I found some academic articles about how development of the psyche can be changed in subtle ways by events or attitudes of authority figures in childhood. It was still pretty general, but it was a start.

I located some references to memory formation and how they are stored, but it was mostly from a biochemical perspective, and I thought that wasn’t what I was looking for. I couldn’t understand it even if it was. But I noted it down anyway.

I spent a good part of the day there. When I’d get up to stretch my legs, stepping out onto the portico, I saw that the quad was filled with students playing, talking, reading, flirting. I cautioned myself not to become too dedicated to this research. I should do some goofing off, too.

I called it a day in the early afternoon and got a late lunch. Across the cafeteria I saw one of the girls who had been doing body shots at last week’s party, sitting with some friends. The middle of the afternoon and she looked hung over. I think she was going to be one of the ones who couldn’t learn to pace herself, and would probably be gone at the end of the semester or the end of the year.

I went back to the dorm where I found Larry lying on his bed reading.

“Hey, Tom. You took off early, man. You gotta stop all this studying in the library. You’re setting a bad example for the rest of us.”

“I don’t want to find myself so far behind that I can’t pull myself out. I promise I’ll take a break every so often.”

“Why don’t you come out with us tonight? Good party band at the Rathskellar, some drinks, maybe some hot women. Could be fun.”

“Maybe. I’m really not much of a drinker, but it might be good to get out of my rut. We’ll see.”

We both had dinner at the chuck wagon -- Larry’s new name for the cafeteria, which he thought was the cleverest idea he’d ever had -- and did some assigned reading till it was late enough that there would probably be an active scene.

The Rathskellar was a popular student bar a couple of blocks from campus. It drew a crowd from ------, as well as other local colleges, because their drinks were cheap and they usually had good bands. It was one of the places students went when they wanted to blow off steam and forget school for awhile.

The bouncers checked IDs, and those eighteen or older were admitted. We saw several disappointed high school students with fake IDs get turned away. They stamped our hands; it was twenty-one and above to get served hard liquor, but at eighteen we could drink beer. The type of stamp indicated what we could order.

We got beers and Larry ordered a plate of nachos for us. That’s one of the perks of having family money. I mean aside from the manservant at your beck and call. He had a comfortable allowance. I had to watch my money to make sure it lasted the month.

“A lot of women to choose from, Carter. Better make your choice before they’re all claimed.”

“I’m in no rush, Larry, it’s not a race. I’m just here to forget about books for awhile.”

“Getting laid will help you forget. That’s my advice.”

“And very sound advice it is. But still no rush.”

He didn’t look like he agreed. He waved across the room at an acquaintance. Then to me he said, “How ‘bout that one?”

He pointed at the dance floor, where a number of women were dancing with each other.

“You mean the brunette?” He nodded.

“She’s cute, but what’s your hurry? There might someone better looking on her way in right now. You should relax for a bit.”

“That’s easy for guys like you to say, Carter. Guys like me have to put in a lot more effort to convince women we’re worth talking to.”

“You shouldn’t try too hard, Larry, otherwise it feels like desperation to women. You should appear confident, like you’re just here to have a good time with friends, maybe meet some new people. Women are a lot more comfortable with that.”

“I dunno, Carter. Guys like me have to work harder at it.”

“You should give it a try, Larry. Don’t fall back on the old standbys, maybe try a new approach, see what happens.”

He looked unconvinced and finished his beer. “You want another?”

I still had half a mug, so shook my head no. He went off to the bar.

Across the room, which was becoming more crowded, a group of girls claimed a table and draped their coats on the chair backs. They talked animatedly among themselves and a couple pulled others toward the dance floor.

The band started a new tune, something with a good solid dance beat, and the girls started laughing and talking loudly as they danced. They looked like college girls everywhere, young, cute, out to have fun. They were all about the same size, except for one who was shorter, really quite petite.

What she lacked in height she made up for in joy, someone who was truly enjoying her friends and being where she was. Her face lit up with smiles at her friends. As she moved around the dance floor, she got a little closer so I could see her more clearly and I was taken aback. She was far better than cute, she was beautiful, with a nice round little butt. But the most remarkable thing was her chest, which looked like it was having trouble fitting onto her small frame.

She reminded me of someone I’d known in high school, Katy LaMonica, petite with an impressive chest and a surprising predilection for butt play. She’d also had a liking for bondage and pain, something I wasn’t really comfortable with.

But for now I was enjoying just watching her, immersing herself in the music, the dancing and being with her friends. She had what I would call auburn hair, that flashed red when the light caught it a certain way, and what I thought were green eyes; I was a little too far away to tell for certain. Watching her dance made me smile.

Larry came back with his fresh beer and saw me looking. “Oh-ho, Carter. So what was all that talk about biding your time, there might be someone better coming in the door?”

“I’m just having fun watching her dance, that’s all.”

He took my comments and added them to other fairy tales he’d heard.

“Okay, so I saw some friends from class coming in the door just now, they may join us in a while.”

I told him that was fine, and continued watching the show. I was starting to entertain some fantasies that involved me, her, and some baby oil.

But the song ended, and she rejoined her friends. Larry’s friends made their way over and I was introduced. They found some empty chairs and crammed themselves around our table, several conversations going on at once. I realized my mug was almost empty, so I swallowed the last of it and got up for a refill.

The bar was crowded, with people waiting to be served, so I joined the line. And in the crowd forming another line to my right I saw the tiny dancer. I’m just under six feet, but she looked like she might make five feet on a good day. And I wasn’t wrong, she was beautiful. Even waiting in a crowded line, she was smiling.

I couldn’t let the opportunity pass, so I linkcast her a feeling, “cute guy to your left, smart, sensitive, funny.” I could do that. I couldn’t “read” her until I had her attention, but I could transfer those impressions to her. She wouldn’t know which of the guys to her left she was getting this impression about, but once she started looking I could narrow it down for her.

I saw her catch herself, unsure of what had caught her attention. She looked around toward my side and I gave her a shy smile and another linkcast that said “nice guy.”

When I had her eye I said, “Maybe we should get two beers and avoid the rush at the bar.”

She smiled and said, “Good idea. ‘For a quart of Ale is a dish for a king.’”

“Wait, I know that. It’s ... That’s Shakespeare, right?”

She raised her empty mug to me in salute.