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.When things went bad it always seemed the girl had to make the changes while the guy went happily skipping down the road of life.I thought Stina must have gone to sleep when I heard a little voice again.“He should have anyway.”I was totally confused.“He who should have done what anyway?”“Your brother.He should have pulverized the scumbag.”“I told you, it wouldn’t have solved anything and could have gotten Jason kicked off the team.”“Yeah, but it sure would have felt good,” said my loyal friend.“Yeah, it sure would have,” I giggled.“Anyway, I left there older and wiser.”I heard someone walking down the hall bouncing a ball.Volleyball girls must still be up.Stina sighed.“I hope someday I can trust again.”“Me too,” I whispered.In my mind I no longer saw the scum from OU when I thought of trust, instead a pair of green eyes over a beautiful smile.“Me too.”-30-You Don’t Bring Me FlowersTwo days I could handle.Three, getting stressed.But by day four and no Al sightings or communication I was having major withdrawals.It was time to give up.Non-gay Al Dansby was obviously hooked-up with SW (aka skank woman, aka Thing One, aka Taylor.) I mean why not? She was what guys wanted, tall, beautiful and willing.“No word today?” Stina asked at dinner.One look from me told her the answer.We were getting almost as scary as the K’s at non-verbal communication.“Doesn’t the guy ever eat? We’ve been staked out here in the cafeteria for days spending over an hour at every meal and he hasn’t come through.”“We are not staked out.I just eat slow,” I said, in denial.Honest truth—I hadn’t eaten much all week.Slow or fast.I just played with my food, looking for his golden brown hair.No luck.“Anyhow, it’s a pointless venture.I saw him and SW with my own eyes.It’s so just not going to happen.”Stina gave a Stina giggle.“Yeah, just keep saying that while you continue canvassing the campus for an Al Dansby sighting.Well, pokey eater, I have things to do and places to go.I’ll see you back at the room.And remember what my mom always told me, ‘A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle.’”“Thanks for those wise words you Gloria Steinem wannabe.”Stina gave me a sad smile.“Just wanting to remind you to believe in yourself.Something we all need reminding of some days.Out of the mouths of Stinas do come very wise words some days.Not most days, but some.I had to quit being so lovesick pathetic.Time to go get on with life without a bicycle.It was a nice day for January, only a little wind.I thought I should get some exercise so I started on a walk.Turning the corner I realized the wind had just been blocked by the building.It was there alright, strong and with a bite to it as usual.Maybe a walk wasn’t such a good idea.Up the front steps of the dorm, which I seldom used, and in the front door.There he stood in the foyer in all his perfection, holding a single red rose.I’d either died and ended up on a pathetic reality show, or my prayers had been answered.He turned to look over his shoulder to see who had just come in the door.His face was a mixture of glowing and dread.Find that color in your Crayola box.I gave him my biggest Colgate smile.He was there.He cared.He’d even shown up with flowers.How could it get any better than that?“Oh, Al, you’re here,” came a voice from the lowest pit of hell.“And you brought me flowers.How nice,” said Taylor looking like a modern day Scarlett O’Hara walking down the stairs.Life can be bad sometimes.Sometimes it can get worse.But that had to be the ultimate worse.Being all ready to get flowers from the man of your dreams just to realize he wasn’t there for you.Instant tears of frustration, humiliation and any other -ation I could think of sprang into my eyes.This so wasn’t going to happen.He’d made his choice and I wasn’t going to stand there like the loser duffuses at the Bachelor Rose Ceremony.“Lottie, wait,” he said.But I didn’t.The power of the eraser worked its magic.Even if things were never to be between us, at least he didn’t have to see me being all drama queen about it.It was a nice day for January.Only a little wind.I thought I should get some exercise, but not by going on a walk.Instead a good cry in my room would burn off the same amount of calories, I decided as I entered the backdoor of the dorm headed to my basement sanctuary.-31-NoteworthyLife always feels better after a good cry.And two Snickers bars.And a Diet Dr.Pepper.And some cookie dough.All shared with three good friends.And then wait four days.A week had gone by with no Al Dansby sightings.At least none that anyone other than me would ever know of.I had kept my trusty eraser friend always close at my side making sure I wouldn’t accidentally run into the man of Taylor’s reality.Three times it had happened, but I had quickly fixed the situation.I was finding interesting alternative routes for getting to and from class.I just wasn’t up to hearing his voice, or some lame words of how we could be good friends.I had just finished the most recent dodge/do-over by entering in the main dorm entrance rather than the back as for some bizarre reason Al had been standing next to the back door earlier.“Hey, Lottie,” called Kasha as I entered the foyer.“Waz up?”“Not enough.You working the desk tonight?”“Yup.Trying to get Madame Bovary read.Have you started yet?” Like last semester, Kasha and I were in the same Lit.class, again with Dr.Jekyll.Second week of school and she already wanted an essay on a book I hadn’t finished reading.I couldn’t get past Madame Bovary and her lovers.SW’s face kept appearing in my thoughts and I wanted to sling the book across the room.“Started, not finished.I forgot you worked the desk.I don’t usually come in this door unless it’s after hours, to sign in.”“Obviously.Look at your mailbox.Ever think of getting your mail?She was right.It was stuffed with junk mail and flyers.Guess I should check it more often, but who of importance used snail mail anymore? Email or text seemed to get the word out.If it was really important it could be Snapchatted.I grabbed the pile of junk and stood next to the trashcan sorting it.Credit card applications.Didn’t they know that they weren’t supposed to solicit to college students anymore? Yeah, right.Flyers for a dance from the week before.Guess I missed that.Hey, what was that? An actual letter written by hand.What could that be?The front said, “Ms.Lottie Lambert –English Major, Basement, Asbury Hall.” Okay, I was intrigued.I went to sit in the parlor to open it
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