"Yeah, sure. How's it going with you two?" Jenny asked, plopping herself down on her narrow dorm room bed.
"Epically awesome. But this ain't about me. This is supposed to be about you. So, first question, why are you so blind and freaking naive when it comes to men?"
"You heard me! What's up with your crap taste? I mean, besides the fact that they are all MALE, what the hell is wrong with you?"
"I don't have bad taste! Ben's amazing. He's on the Dean's list, Captain of the hockey team, affluent, popular, funny, not to mention he's absolutely gorgeous! Do you know how many girls would kill for a chance to go out with him? Really Sandy, what's not to like?"
"He's a knob. And I don't trust him, at all. There's something about him, I just can't put my finger on it..."
"It's called a penis! Come on, Sandy, just admit it, you've never liked any of the guys I've dated!"
"Damn straight. None of them deserve someone like you. You are too good for all of 'em, especially Ben the Ballsack. Okay onto the next question, boxers or briefs? Cripes, who comes up with this shit, anyhow?"
"Hmmm. Boxers. Definitely boxers. Remember the other night?" Jenny blushes, just thinking about how she and Sandy caught a glimpse of one very delicious Ben, standing in the locker room in his boxers, after his hockey game ended. His chest muscles glistening with a sheen of sweat and his rock hard abs tapering down into...
"Aw, man! Why did you have to go and remind me of that? It's gonna take weeks before I can burn the image of your boy wonder in his drawers out of my mind! Some things just can't be unseen, ya know?" Sandy covered her eyes and spun herself around and around, in our desk chair.
"You're completely bananas, you know that?"
"I believe that's been well established. Ready to move on?"
"What's the one thing you believe can tell a lot about a person?"
"Definitely their eyes. I can see so much by looking into them!" Sandy doesn't know this, but I could see EVERYTHING by looking into them. Like all the way into their souls, and what demons they have clinging there...but I couldn't tell her about that. As much as I care about her, I just can't talk about it, with anyone. But that's why she's never understood my dating choices. I never judged someone by how they looked on the outside, cause it didn't matter to me at all. I just counted it a giant bonus, my new boyfriend Ben, just happens to look like a Viking God!
"Seriously, J? Their eyes? That's your answer? What total BS! All I ever catch you checking out is their feet. You NEVER look people in the eyes!"
Figures she'd noticed. That girl misses nothing I do. Dang it, how do I explain myself, without outing my freak factor? "Um, everyone knows the eyes are the window to a person's soul."
Sandy eye-balled me with laser precision. "Mmmm hmmmm."
Somehow, I got the feeling, my very suspicious and over-protective friend, might know more about things than she let on.
"All right Cardinale-interview time is up. Time to party. Come with me and Pats to the parade." She jumped up out of her chair, and rolled her neck, from left to right, making a popping sound. Then she started to shadow box with me. This was a familiar gesture, and it comforted me.
As I dodged her left hook and went for an uppercut, I said, "I'd love to, but I'm meeting Ben in the student center. Gotta bone up on my Algebra."
"As long as that's all you bone up on!" She yelled, while placing me in a one-armed head lock, and shoving my head down onto the bed, royally messing up my hair. "You're moves are always too predictable."
"And you're always doing something crazy." I said, spitting hair out of my mouth, regaining my breath, trying to recover my balance. She reached out her hand, and helped me back up. Then she grabbed a brush off of my shelf, and sat down behind me.
As she brushed and then carefully re-braided my long, dark hair, she said, "I know I'm a crazy over-protective bitch Jenny, but you mean the world to me. You are too sweet, too kind, and forgive me, but super naive. College is a whole different ball game sweetie. You need to stay on your toes, and keep your eyes wide open here. Please, promise me, you'll be careful with this one, because I love you to death, and I don't want to see you get hurt. Pinkie promise, kay?"
As tough as Sandy was, looking up and straight into her eyes, revealed how vulnerable she really was, and how much she did care. I put my pinkie out to hers, and we shook, just like we used to, when we were kids. Back before I was a freak, and I could see so much more in people's eyes than I ever wanted to.
"I promise. And, Sandy, I love you too."
* I'm going to finish my entry with a song that I love and fits. Now I'm off to read all of the other entries. Happy Blog Hopping!