Take Me Away: A College Romance Story

by J. R. Simmons

  “Yeah, that's still so weird to me too,” Alex said, shaking her head. “I mean, if you guys are going to be seriously dating, you're going to need to know what the guy does. I don't understand why he won't tell you.”

  “I don't either,” I said, shaking my head. “But I'm sure he has his reasons.” I looked back at the pile of clothes, my hands on my hips. “Seriously, though, what should I wear?”

  When I met up with Ben later that day, I was glad that I'd put some thought into my outfit and that I'd settled for an ivy-green dress that I hardly ever wore. It had felt like it might be a bit too formal—despite Alex's insistence that it wasn't—but now that I saw the charcoal-grey suit that Ben was wearing, I was glad I was in a dress instead of jeans or something like that.

  “Oh wow, you look nice,” I said as I climbed into his car—this time, a sleek little silver thing, rather than the fancy sports car.

  “Thanks,” Ben said, tugging self-consciously at his tie. “It's a work thing; I actually really hate dressing like this. But you look really pretty today, too.”

  “Thanks,” I said, simpering at him.

  “So, where are we going?” Ben asked.

  “Well, I had originally thought about getting burgers, but I doubt you want to go for burgers in a suit like that,” I told him.

  Ben grimaced and shook his head. “Honestly, burgers sounds so great right now after all the posturing and shit that I had to do this morning, but I stupidly didn't bring anything to change into, and I'd rather not get grease stains and ketchup all over my best suit. Sorry.”

  “No problem,” I said. “I had a backup plan. If you can find a place to park, we can walk it.”

  “Okay,” Ben said, eyes scanning the area for parking spots. “If it's in the university area, you're probably right that I don't know it—I hardly ever come over here except when I'm running.”

  I gave him an almost appalled look. “You're missing out on some of the best that the city has to offer, then!” I told him. “Jesus, I can't even imagine. What about Mama's Pizza or My Way Indian? Or-”

  “Most of those places deliver,” Ben pointed out.

  “Yeah, but the atmosphere,” I said. “It's going to those grungy little hole-in-the-wall places and sitting down with all the other-”

  “Poor students who can barely scrape together enough for a meal, let alone for a tip?” Ben asked, smirking over at me.

  I rolled my eyes. “That's not all that you find there and you know it.”

  “No, that's true,” Ben said, his eyes glittering. “You also find a fair number of homeless people.”

  I snorted and lightly punched his arm. “Hey, I love this part of the city,” I told him. “It's why I chose to stick around for university rather than going further from home like most of my friends did.”

  We finally pulled into a parking space as someone else was pulling out, and I led the way down the block towards one of my favorite little restaurants.

  “Taste of El Salvador...” Ben said, frowning a little. “Honestly, I wouldn't even know the first thing about Salvadoran cuisine, let alone know this place.”

  “Good,” I said. “Prepare to be surprised, then.” I led him inside, and we waited to be seated at a table near one of the front windows, where we had a good view out to the street.

  “So what exactly am I supposed to be ordering?” Ben asked, flipping through the menu. “I mean, I don't know what most of this stuff is, and the English translations will only take a person so far.”

  I laughed a little. “Yeah, I get that. Well, I would recommend panes rellenos, but you probably don't want that for the same reason that we didn't go for burgers—it's a sandwich that's basically drowned in tomato sauce and spices. Super tasty, but definitely messy.”

  “Yeah, we'll say no to that one, then.”

  “But we could get a sopa de pata—that's a type of soup—and some papusas to share—those are these corn dough tortillas filled with cheese or beans or pork or...well, whatever you want, really. And then empanadas de leche. For dessert, we have to get empanadas de leche.”

  Ben smiled at me. “Well, I'll leave the ordering up to you, I guess,” he said. “I'm sure whatever it is, it'll be delicious.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “That's a lot of faith you're putting in me, considering I just suggested a type of soup that contains tripe.”

  Ben mimicked my facial expression. “Do you not realize that British people eat tripe a lot more than Americans do?”

  I laughed. “Well, all right, then. Let me go put in the order.”

  “How do you know so much about Salvadoran cuisine anyway?” Ben asked when I came back to the table.

  I grinned at him. “Actually, I was in Central America all of last summer, doing this really neat study abroad program. We spent three weeks in Costa Rica to start with, followed by three weeks in Nicaragua and three weeks in El Salvador. I studied Latin American Social Revolutions while I was there.”

  “Oh wow,” Ben said. “That sounds really interesting. You must speak Spanish then?”

  “Just a little,” I admitted. “I'm working on getting more fluent.”

  “But you're studying French.”

  “Yeah, I started studying French ages ago in school, so I figured it would be a waste to lose it all now. I have designs on this study abroad program in France for next year or the year after, but it's going to be expensive, so I either need to get some good scholarship help or I need to save up a decent amount of money for it. But I'd get to study in the south of France and learn all about life in small villages and how that was impacted by the French Revolution and things like that.”

  “Sounds...” Ben trailed off and then laughed a little. “Well, to be honest, it doesn't sound too interesting to me because I've never really been all that interested in history. But you seem pretty excited about it, so.”

  I laughed as well and shook my head. “See, that's one of those things that I never understand,” I said. “How can someone not be interested in history? We wouldn't be here today if it weren't for history.”

  “True,” Ben said. “But we also wouldn't be where we are today if it weren't for business, or if it weren't for those past humans looking forwards towards the future.”

  “Hmm, fair point,” I said. And suddenly, I blurted out, “In the spirit of looking forwards towards the future, what exactly are we doing?”

  Ben blinked at me. “What do you mean, what are we doing?” he asked. He looked around. “We're getting lunch at a Salvadoran restaurant that you recommended.”

  “Right, that's not what I meant,” I said impatiently. “I meant what are we doing? Is this still a date? Are we just friends? I know I probably shouldn't be asking, but I just-”

  “Oh,” Ben said. For a minute, he didn't say anything else, just shaking his head a little and looking at me with a fond smile on his face. “You know, I like that you're so blunt,” he said. “Most girls tiptoe around questions like that, but you, you're always so direct.”

  I blushed a little and ducked my head. “It's my fatal flaw,” I told him.

  Ben reached over and caught my hand, lightly squeezing it. “I'd like it if this was a date,” he said. “I intended for this to be a date. Unless you don't want it to be.”

  “I want it to be,” I told him. “I just… I feel like I'm getting mixed signals from you. You haven't even kissed me yet, and you disappeared for almost two weeks, and-” I cut myself off, grimacing. “Sorry, I sound like such a needy female right now.”

  “No, that's fair,” Ben said. He cocked his head to the side. “To be honest, I'd really like to call you my girlfriend.”

  “Do I get to learn what your super-secret job is then?” I teased.

  Ben laughed. “Not quite yet,” he said. “Give it a little more time. But...”

  “I'd like that,” I told him. “Very much.”

  “Good,” Ben said, smiling warmly across the table at me.

  Chapter Nine


  Alex rolled her eyes when I said I didn't want to go to the frat party that Friday night. “Come on,” she told me. “I know you've got your thing with Mr. English Guy, but that doesn't mean you have to stop having fun. You're a sophomore in college! And anyway, I bet he hasn't called since you saw him on Tuesday, has he?”

  “He texted me a couple times,” I said defensively.

  “Did he text you, or did he just respond to some texts that you sent him?” Alex asked archly.

  “It's the same thing,” I muttered. “Anyway, we agreed that we're officially boyfriend and girlfriend...”

  “And I'm happy for you,” Alex said. “But at the same time, I still think this whole thing is kind of strange. For all you know, he has a mistress that he's living with the rest of the time, when you're not seeing one another.”

  “He doesn't seem like that type of guy,” I protested.

  “He still hasn't kissed you, though, has he?” Alex asked. “Or made any sort of move? What kind of guy does that?”

  I shrugged a little. “I'm sure he has his reasons,” I said. “For all I know, he's just got out of a serious relationship with someone and wants to take things slow, or-”

  “Guys have needs,” Alex said. “And they act on those needs. If he's not acting on his needs with you, there must be someone else.”

  I blushed a little, thinking back to the night I had woken up to a sexy dream about him. I couldn't help wondering if maybe that was what he was doing as well: dreaming of me and getting himself off. Maybe there wasn't another woman, maybe he was just...taking things slow with me. Letting the anticipation build.

  Alex rolled her eyes. “Come on, you have to go to the party. Because I want to go to the party and I'm not going by myself. But this could be the one and only time that I ever get invited to a frat party, so really, you can't crush my dreams like that...”

  “How did you manage to get invited, anyway?” I asked. “And can't you ask your boyfriend or fuck-buddy or whatever it is that you have going on to go with you?”

  Alex scowled at me. “You don't bring a dude to a frat party,” she said. She tossed her hair a little. “Anyway, I'll have you know that my boy-toy is a member of this specific frat and, yes, that's where the invitation came from, but because we're not officially dating or anything like that, I can't just go there with him. Especially not because he'll be hanging out with all his friends for the majority of the night, so I need to bring some friends that I can hang out with while he's doing that.”

  I shook my head. “God, I'm so glad that I'm not having a college romance,” I said. “I don't think I could handle it. Because that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard of.”

  Alex snorted. “Yeah, it's a bit shit,” she said. “But you are so having a college romance too. Otherwise, you would have tumbled into bed with your Prince Charming already!”

  “I don't think that's how it works in the real world,” I told her.

  “Sure it is,” Alex said. “I've seen it happen like that in all the movies.”

  I laughed a little. “And that makes it legitimate, does it?” I asked.

  “Of course it does. But anyway, you're going. So I expect you to buy a nice, sexy outfit this week that you can wear to it, because we both know that anything you currently own isn't going to cut it. And while I'd love to say that you could borrow some things from me, we both know that my things wouldn't fit your size-zero form.”

  I sighed. “Fine,” I said. “I'll go. But only if I don't hear anything from Ben before Friday.”

  “I mean, I kind of don't want to make that deal, because I want the best for you and I really do want for you to hear back from him,” Alex said. “But at the same time…yeah, deal.” She reached out her hand and we shook on it.

  And that was how I found myself walking nervously up towards the Zeta Beta Nu house that Friday night, dressed in a skimpy black dress and heels that I could barely walk in now, sober. I was kind of dreading how the night would go, but I figured I owed it to Alex to go along with her. And she'd rustled up some of the other girls from our dorm to go as well, so we should have a fun night. It had been pretty fun getting ready to go out with them all, at least.

  This so wasn't my scene, though…

  We rang the bell and a guy opened the door. He whistled at us. “Looking good, ladies!” he said, eyeing our legs. “Looking very good. You know, technically there's a five dollar cover to enter, but-”

  “Don't bullshit me, Jerry,” one of the other girls, Ashley, said, tossing her hair back and giving him an unimpressed look. “You know that none of us are going to pay the cover fee. But you also know that you would be an idiot to turn away eight unescorted babes from what is shaping up to be the hottest party of the semester.”

  Jerry put a hand over his heart as though wounded, but he was laughing. “Yeah, you're right. Get in here, babe, and get this party started.”

  We slipped inside and hung up our coats on the racks next to the door.

  “Let's go look for drinks,” Alex suggested, probably guessing how nervous I was about this whole thing. This just wasn't the sort of place that I normally found myself. But with a couple drinks in me, I would probably be feeling a lot more social—and I trusted Alex to take care of me and get me home if necessary.

  Hopefully, that wouldn't be necessary.

  We made our way through the crowded house towards the kitchen, and Alex convinced some guy to mix us a couple white Russians. “Trust me, you want to get your drinks mixed for you until everyone runs out of their personal stashes,” she said to me under her breath. “After that, we're all going to be stuck with beer and jungle juice, and I don't know about you, but I hate beer and jungle juice is, like… Well, it's good once you're drunk enough to appreciate it.”

  “I don't think I've ever had jungle juice,” I confessed.

  Alex ogled me sidelong. “What, did you grow up under a rock?” she asked. “Did you never go to a party in high school? Scratch that, have you not made it out to a single party yet this semester?”

  “I've never been much of a drinker,” I admitted. “Just, in high school I was always-”

  “Let me guess, you were focused on your grades and on your cross-country and track times,” Alex said, rolling her eyes. “Oh my god, I might have known that. Well, we're going to have fun tonight, okay?”

  She steered me out into the living room and deposited me on a couch with my drink. “Make some friends,” she said, waving to the boys on either side of me. “I'm going to go find Trevor and say hi, just so that he knows I made it and that I'm waiting for him...” She winked down at me and then slipped off through the crowd.

  I wondered what had happened to the rest of the girls we had come with. And wondered if maybe I should go looking for them. If they were all trying to chat up guys, I didn't want to interrupt that, but at the same time…

  “So what's your name?” the guy on my left asked me, having to shout so that he could be heard above the thumping bass beat.

  “Rachael,” I told him. “You?”

  “Dan,” he said, reaching out to shake the hand that wasn't clutching my drink like it was a lifeline. “You look like you need to chill out a little,” he said.

  I grimaced. “Sorry, parties are just...”

  “Yeah, a bit overwhelming, I know,” he said. “Come on.”

  Against my better judgement, I followed him through the crowds of people, back through the kitchen, and out the back door onto a nice porch. There were people out in the backyard as well, but it was way more chill than it had been in the living room. And I could actually hear myself think.

  Dan led me over to a porch swing and sat on it, and after a moment's hesitation, I sat down next to him. He grabbed a blanket from one side and wrapped it around us. “It's a bit chilly out here,” he explained. “But with the blankets, it's kind of nice.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed, snuggling down into the wool.

  “So Rachael, was it?” Dan asked. “What bring
s you to the Zeta Beta Nu house?”

  I shrugged. “My friend Alex, the one that was with me in the living room? She's sleeping with one of the guys at the frat, so. He wanted her to come but she didn't want to come by herself, which is dumb because she's the one who ditched me anyway, and-” I broke off, ducking my head a little. “Sorry, I don't mean to rant.”

  Dan laughed. “Nah, it's fine,” he said. “I totally get that frustration. I've been dragged along to more parties than I can count.”

  “You seem to know the house pretty well, though,” I pointed out.