by Nia Stephens
Gemma stared up into his eyes. “It’s my favorite.” She had no idea what kind of muffin he had actually bought, but the fact that he picked it out for her meant it was her new favorite.
“Have you ever seen The Unbearable Lightness of Being?” he asked.
Gemma shook her head. “Was it good?”
“Very. What about Like Water for Chocolate or Das Boot?”
Uh-oh. Gemma had the awful feeling that she was slipping back into clueless town. She very carefully unpeeled the paper from her muffin, unable to meet his eyes. What if Dan thought she was some uncultured ghetto girl from around the way, who had no other interests outside of clothes. Maybe Dan was out of her league. Was this relationship over before it began?
“I’ll have to take you to the movies sometime.” Gemma felt her face flush, and her chest seemed to expand with relief.
She smiled up at him. “Sounds good.”
As the waitress brought over another latte, Dan scooted to the other side of the booth, next to her, and snuggled in closer. Before she knew it, she was nestled under his arm, gazing up at his beautiful, tawny face.
He is so going to kiss me right now. And, she realized, she really wanted him to!
Dan leaned his face in a little closer; close enough so that she could smell the fresh mint from his winter-fresh double cocoa latte. She leaned in to meet him halfway. Here it comes.
Instead, he reached up with his thumb and swiped at the skin just below her eye. “Smudged mascara,” he said.
Gemma felt her face turn hot as she sunk back into the cushy leather booth. “Oh, thanks.”
She went back to taking apart her muffin crumb by crumb, trying to figure out if he had noticed she’d been angling for a kiss. She was concentrating so hard on getting herself to stop blushing that she barely heard him ask her a question.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, gazing up at him. “Did you just suggest another date?”
There was still hope!
The next day in home ec, Gemma told Maria all about Dan while they attempted to make chocolate mousse pies. Gemma’s looked more like chocolate mousse soup, and somehow Maria had managed to burn her ready-made crust.
“What is it with you and that oven?” Gemma asked.
“You should not be talking, girl. Your pie looks like a big ol’ pile of—”
“Ten more minutes, class,” Mrs. Sutton yelled.
Maria looked at Gemma. “So the dude is pretty, you connected, was there any action?”
“A guy does not have to throw his tongue down your throat to have a good time,” Gemma snapped.
“Whoa. Defensive much?” Maria said.
“Sorry,” Gemma mumbled. She still felt the sting of humiliation over her misunderstanding when Dan had leaned in to wipe off her mascara.
“Dang. Not even a kiss?” Maria scraped at the burnt parts on her crust with a butter knife. “Did you have onions for lunch yesterday or something?”
“Ha, very funny. For your information, my breath was minty fresh, thank you.”
“Well, what did you talk about? Did he discuss Einstein’s Theory of Relativity?”
“He’s an artist, not a freakin’ physicist,” Gemma said, rolling her eyes. “He was cool and we did seem to have a lot in common.”
“Oh, please,” Maria said. “He’s into clothes, Justin Timberlake, and basketball?”
Mrs. Sutton turned to their corner. “I hope I have A-plus pies over there, girls.”
They looked down at their burnt, melting chocolate mousse pies. Gemma had a feeling she’d be doing this assignment over again.
“So what did you guys talk about?” Maria asked.
“Not Justin and not basketball, but we did talk about clothes.”
Maria contorted her face. “You mean you and the dude talked about fashion? The only guys I know that talk about fashion are gay.” Then a lightbulb seemed to click on behind Maria’s eyes. From years of experience, Gemma knew that look meant trouble. “Hold up a sec. Let me get this straight. First, Dan didn’t kiss you—and you were looking all that, which I know because I picked out your clothes. Second, he talked about fashion the entire date?”
“Not the entire date, but so what?”
“So what?” Maria repeated incredulously. “Your man is on the down low is what it is.”
“What? No way,” Gemma scoffed. She began to stick ice cubes in her mousse with the hopes that it would stiffen up and at least earn her a passing grade. “He likes clothes. Big deal.”
“Gay,” Maria asserted.
“So I didn’t get a kiss. No biggie.”
“Gay!”
Knowing full well that arguing would get her nowhere with her stubborn best friend, Gemma dipped her index finger in the runny mousse and swiped the chocolate mess onto Maria’s forehead.
Maria squealed and grabbed a wad of paper towel to wipe off the chocolate. “You’re so paying for that, but don’t distract me. According to you—and I quote—a guy doesn’t have to throw his tongue down your throat to have a good time. But what hot-blooded guy doesn’t at least try?” She tossed the chocolate-smeared paper towel into the trash and waited for Gemma’s answer.
Gemma stared at her friend in disbelief. “If only you could quote Lincoln that well. You’d have an A in History instead of a B minus.”
“Stop stalling,” Maria said bitterly. She was really unhappy about that B minus.
“Fine,” Gemma said. “While I admit it would have been nice to get a little action, maybe he’s just taking his time. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Gay.”
Gemma exhaled loudly in frustration, but before she could say a word Mrs. Sutton yelled from the front of the room. “Five more minutes!”
“What is this, Iron Chef?” Gemma grumbled. She stared at her pie plate. Her mousse was not whipping up in spite of her efforts, and she highly doubted it would within the next couple of minutes.
“Relax, chica,” Maria said.
“About the mousse or about Dan?” Gemma asked.
“Okay, you only had that one coffee date,” Maria conceded. “You may not have a problem with PDA, but the brother might. And maybe Dan really is the one and only straight guy that is truly interested in what shoes go with what cuff links.”
“Time!” Mrs. Sutton called. “Put the pies in the refrigerator and I’ll grade them in time for the next class.”
“Ever hear of the term metrosexual?” Gemma hissed as she and Maria crossed to the refrigerator with their pies.
Maria nodded. “Sure. And ever hear of being on the down low?”
“Puh-lease,” Gemma said. “Besides, we’re going out again. I’m sure he’ll make a move then. And when he does, you’ll be the first person I call. Kind of like you did with me when Manny asked you to go seriously steady.” She slipped her pie to the back of the refrigerator, hoping some time in the cold would solve its wiggle issues.
“You will never let me live that down, will you?” Maria slipped her burnt pie in next to Gemma’s watery one.
“Nope.”
Chapter 5
Impressionism 101
Gemma sauntered into the art museum the next day full of confidence. She and Maria had decided on a simple, white cotton capris outfit with open-toe sandals.
The museum was nearly empty so she had no problem finding the exhibit Dan wanted to see with her. She easily spotted him by the Picassos, and lingered a few moments in the archway studying him as he moved slowly, giving each painting his full attention, nodding with admiration. He gazed at the paintings the way she wished he would focus on her. Soon, she hoped.
But then she frowned. He looked ten times better than she did. He wore neatly pressed pants, a jacket, and a matching shirt and tie. His dreads were in a ponytail held back with a rubber band.
Did she have time to race home?
Nope. That smile on his face told her he had already spotted her.
She crossed to him, the heels of her strap
py sandals clicking on the marble floor.
“Hey, there you are,” Dan said, giving her the once-over from head to neatly polished toes.
“I can go home and change,” she blurted. “It’s not a problem.”
She could put on the sundress she bought for her cousin’s wedding. Oh wait, that was at the cleaners. Maybe the blue and white chiffon dress would look much better in the sunlight, but no—she loaned that to Maria, who had never bothered to return it. Maybe Maria had something she could borrow!
Dan laughed, interrupting her internal panic. “Why would you want to do that? You look beautiful.”
“Are you sure?” Gemma wasn’t used to feeling so insecure about her looks.
He nodded. “Of course. Look at how the buckle of your shoe matches your earrings perfectly. I bet you didn’t even notice that.”
Actually, she hadn’t. “Huh.”
“C’mon,” he said, grabbing her hand. “I want to show you my favorite piece.”
Dan led Gemma through several rooms and down a long winding hall covered with historical paintings. Two rooms and countless detailed explanations later, Dan halted in front of a statue of a naked woman rising from a fountain, surrounded by a moat.
“This is it,” he said, his voice hushed as if he were in a church. “I love this piece.”
Gemma felt a little awkward. Yeah, sure the sculpture was beautiful—but it was also of a life-sized nude woman. She barely knew Dan, and here she was standing beside a very realistic, very voluptuous, very naked female figure. Was Dan going to scrutinize her body the way he was gazing at the statue? And how could she come up with anything artistic to say when all she could think was that she wished she were as well built as this marble woman?
“I love how she stands in the water, the essence of life,” he said. “See this?” He leaned forward and held his hand a few inches from the statue. He traced the curve of its waist and down around its hip. “There’s such elegance in this line. But power, too.” He continued moving his hand down the thigh. “You can feel the energy of her thigh muscles holding her up, but the delicacy of her small waist.”
Gemma found herself drawn in by his intensity, his passion. She imagined what it might be like to have him stroke her with such care, and shivers ran down her spine.
He now moved his hands a few inches from the statue’s collarbone. “I love the way her chest is up and open. The artist really makes the female body appear as a goddess-in-waiting.”
He turned to face her. “Do you see what I mean?”
“Yes,” she murmured. “Yes, I do.”
He took a step toward her and gazed deeply into her eyes. She felt transfixed, as if she couldn’t move.
For a minute, there were no words exchanged. Maria was crazy, she decided, unable to look away from Dan’s smooth skin, his deep-set eyes. No way was this guy on the down low. He’s about to kiss me, Gemma thought, trembling slightly.
Gemma leaned forward and shut her eyes, tingling with anticipation. But there was nothing. Figuring she’d help the guy out, she leaned in a little farther and then a little farther. Still nothing. She leaned in one last time only this time she lost her balance.
“Whoa! Watch out, lady,” a little kid behind her called. But it was too late—the legendary Gemma Williams clumsiness had struck again.
Gemma lost her footing and splashed down into the moat surrounding the naked lady. As the security guards rushed from their posts to help her, she felt her face turn beet red.
Too bad that didn’t kill me, she thought.
“Gemma!” Dan cried, whirling around. He had obviously moved around to the other side of the statue. “Are you all right?” He rushed over to her and held out his hand to help her up.
She wanted to say, No, I’m not all right. I’m humiliated beyond belief and soaked because I thought you were going to kiss me! Instead, she nodded and said, “I’m okay. Thanks.”
Face burning, Gemma excused herself and headed for the ladies’ room. She yanked wads of paper towels from the dispenser and tried blotting herself. It wasn’t helping.
She flung the paper towels into the trash and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Was there something wrong with her? How could she have so misread the moment? That’s twice now! And why didn’t he want to kiss her? “Maybe he is gay,” Gemma wailed.
A flush behind her made Gemma cringe. She wasn’t alone in the bathroom.
A chubby, middle-aged woman came out of a stall. She glanced at Gemma with a disapproving expression as she washed her hands. She avoided catching Gemma’s eye in the mirror, which was a good thing, since Gemma had had enough embarrassment for the day. And now that she was trying to dry herself off under the hand dryer, she knew she was making a serious spectacle of herself.
“Don’t feel bad,” Dan said when she finally rejoined him. “I’m sure plenty of people fall into that fountain.”
“Yeah, right,” Gemma said. “That isn’t really what I meant when I said I wanted to get into art!”
Dan laughed and slung his arm across her shoulder. “I think you’re really cool,” he said. “Other girls might have totally freaked out if that had happened to them. But instead, you laugh at yourself.”
Well ... I’ve had a lot of practice lately, she thought.
By the time they settled into a booth at La Trattoria Pizza, Gemma’s shirt was nearly dry. Dan had insisted Gemma borrow his jacket so that she wouldn’t get chilled, and she enjoyed the scent of his cologne still lingering on it.
“A large pepperoni and two Cokes please,” Dan said to the waitress.
“That sounds good, and what are you going to have to eat?” Gemma joked.
“Not shy at all when it comes to food, I see. I like that.”
“Is there anything else you like?” Gemma asked, surprising herself at her boldness. But then again, after you fall face first into a fountain in front of a guy on your second date, what else is left to be shy about?
“I’d like to ask you to go see a foreign film with me. If you’re into it ...”
Gemma smiled. “Definitely. Plus I’m pretty sure I don’t have the acrobatic skill to crash through the movie screen.”
Chapter 6
Lost in Translation
“I cannot believe you fell into a fountain.” Maria doubled over with laughter. “Well, okay, I believe it, but I wish I didn’t.”
Gemma had called Maria to come over the minute she got home from her date with Dan. She was beginning to regret the call.
“Did he see you puckering up like fish?” Maria asked.
“I don’t think so,” Gemma said thankfully. She sat slumped at her computer desk. Maria’s hysteria wasn’t helping. Usually Maria could joke Gemma out of anything, but this was just too humiliating.
“Even after all that, there was no payoff for your pain?” Maria said, nearly choking on her laughter. “Oh, that’s priceless.”
LeBron wandered over to Gemma and plopped himself down by her bare feet and nuzzled them with his wet nose. Using her toes, Gemma scratched LeBron’s head. Pleased with the attention, LeBron began licking her ankles.
“At least you’re getting kisses from LeBron,” Maria teased, getting up onto Gemma’s bed.
“Remind me again why I called you over here?” Gemma said.
“I’m telling you, something is not right,” Maria declared. “I really think he may be gay.”
“You’re wrong,” Gemma insisted. “Besides, I said I was tired of getting mauled by my dates. Dan is just taking it slow.”
“Can the guy be any slower?”
“You’re the one who said I should go for a different kind of guy.”
“Not that different,” Maria muttered.
“So you’re saying Dan is gay because why? Because he didn’t kiss me?” Gemma demanded. She was getting tired of this.
“Not just that. He’s all artsy and stuff. He loves foreign films, he’s into fashion, and his style is impeccable.”
“Ohh
h,” Gemma said, standing and crossing her arms over her chest. “So you’re saying he’s gay because of all those stereotypes you listed? It’s called having class.”
“If you say so,” Maria said.
“Dad, this is Dan,” Gemma said when Dan came to pick her up for the movies a few days later.
She had asked Dan to pick her up at her house, explaining that her parents wanted to meet him. In actuality, it had been the other way around. She wanted to get the parent ordeal over with quickly. She was beginning to really like Dan, in spite of Maria’s insinuations.
The only downfall of the plan was that her dad had an irritating inability to hold his tongue and usually said exactly what was on his mind. No matter how embarrassing to her—or her dates. Luckily, with Dan’s impeccable manners and understated style, Gemma wasn’t that concerned.
Dan shook her dad’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.” As usual, his voice was calm and confident. His dreads were pulled back and he had on a pair of loose jeans and a snug black T-shirt. Not the muscle shirt some meatheads liked to sport, but a fitted style that made it obvious that he took excellent care of himself.
Mr. Williams’s eyes darted up and down, giving Dan the once-over. Here it comes. Gemma closed her eyes and braced herself. Nice knowing ya, Dan, she thought.
“What, are you sleeping over there?” she heard her father ask. Gemma’s eyes flicked open and she discovered Dan and her dad were staring at her.
“Uh, I had something in my eye,” Gemma said.
Mr. Williams slapped Dan on the back. “Sorry, son, but it’s not a good sign when your date falls asleep on you before getting out the front door.”
That was it? That was her father’s comment?
Dr. Williams walked into the room and introduced herself. Dan shook her hand and then turned to Gemma.
“You ready?”
Still slightly shocked that she had gotten off that easy, Gemma nodded and they walked out the door.
Wow. No warnings. No threats. No embarrassing jokes. No interrogation. Either they were stunned into speechlessness, or Maria was full of it.
