Page 97 of Holidating
“Where does it hurt?” she asked.
“I have a date, and I don’t know what to wear.”
Her laughter was so loud that I had to hold the phone away from my ear. “How old are you?”
“Old enough to ask for help when I need it.”
“Fair enough. What’s the occasion?”
“That’s the tricky part. First there’s a charity bit, where I’m helping a bunch of sorority girls with their community project. Setting up a Christmas tree, or something.”
Delia laughed again. “What do you know from setting up a Christmas tree, Jew boy?”
“How hard could it be? But there’s also a tree lighting, and, like, cocktails.”
“Hmm,” my sister mused. “And where does this event take place?”
“In their preppy white sorority house with the big columns on the front.”
“Well… This really could go either way. Casual or dressy.”
“That’s what I was afraid of. How should I play it?”
“Who’s the girl? Anyone special?”
Why yes. But I wasn’t going to tell my sister that just hearing this girl’s name gave me a thrill.Katie Vickery. When she’d called to invite me to this thing, she’d opened with “you don’t know me…”
But she’d been wrong. Very wrong. I knewexactlywho she was.
In the first place, if you were a lonely junior at Harkness, noticing the frosh girls was like your job. And she made my job easy. I’d picked out those long legs the very first time they’d walked into my art history lecture. And — lucky me — summer’s warmth had held on an extra week or two this year, treating me to a steady parade of Katie’s short skirts every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning.
The most attractive thing about her, though, was her laugh. It was deeper and huskier than you’d expect from someone so slight and fair. I loved the sound of it. Whenever I heard her laugh, my brain took a short trip around the block.
God, she was hot. But she also hadunattainablepractically stamped on her forehead. Because Katie was the sort of girl thateveryonenoticed. And I wasn’t even a little bit surprised when she started sitting with the football crew during lectures.
I didn’t dwell on this. Girls like Katie Vickery were out of my league, and I didn’t bother to sit around wondering why. Some things justwere.
As the fall semester wore on, Bridger, my next-door neighbor, started spending a lot of time with Katie’s roommate, Scarlet. So I overheard updates on Katie. Scarlet mentioned that they sometimes went jogging together. After that, Katie’s long legs began loping through my dreams in spandex shorts.
But that wasn’t a premonition, or anything. It was just the work of a shy guy’s subconscious. In a million years, I’d never thought I’d be standing here, dressing for a date with her. And if she hadn’t invited me out of sheer desperation, I wouldn’t be.
“Um, earth to Andy!” my sister prompted. “I asked you a question. Is the girl anyone special?”
“We don’t really know each other,” I admitted. “She dumped her football player boyfriend a few weeks ago and needed a date for this thing. Enter me.”
“So this is a date of necessity. But how didyouget the nod? She must not know your track record with women. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” My sister snickered.
“Come on, now, D. If I wanted to be mocked, I would have called myothersister.” Our younger sis was kind of a bitch. “You remember Bridger?”
“Who could forget him?” Delia asked. My neighbor was kind of a stud with the ladies.
“Well, this whole thing was his girlfriend’s idea.”
“I knew I liked that guy,” Delia said. But of course she did. All the women did. “And his girlfriend has good taste, too.”
“In me? Or in Bridger?” I teased.
“Both. And this sorority girl is going to love you. You’re pretty cute for a skinny guy.”
