2009 NYC Midnight Writing Challenge (1,000 words in 48 hours)
Genre: Romance
Setting: Computer Lab
Object: Glow Stick
Monday
“Jane Marten?”
“Here. But, please, call me Janey.”
“Janey it is.”
Janey. Janey. Look this way. I can’t see your face. And the damn computers are in the way. What if I move my chair over just a little? There. Now at least I can see your long perfect brown hair. I wonder if that seat next to her will be open all night?# Maybe I should sit there. No. It’d be too obvious. Tomorrow night, I will. Promise. But wait. What if the teacher puts us in pairs tonight? We’d probably have to be with our partners the rest of the week. Then maybe I should go up there now next to Janey. Janey. God you’re beautiful. Your long legs and the way you sit with one crossed over the other and your toes pointed up. And the way you reach into your bag and get a note— not a notebook, a pencil. Now a notebook. That’s a nice outfit. She must have come from work. I wonder what she does? Lawyer? Judge? Entrepreneur? Taking this class to learn a little about Web design. I gotta find out. Tonight I’ll move up. There’s that seat next to her I could get, but what if she starts talking to the guy next to her? Then she wouldn’t notice I’d moved. Ah, forget it. She’s probably straight anyway. Whatever. I’m over her already. Oh my god she just turned to look at me!
“Jane Randall? ….. Jane Randall? Ja–”
“Oh…yeah, here. Sorry. Call me J.”
“No problem, J. I’m glad our two Janes have made it easy for us to tell them apart.”
Tuesday
“Are you saving this seat for someone?”
“It’s all yours.”
I knew J would sit next to me tonight. It worked. Keep my bag in the seat last night so no one sits there. Repeat tonight. She took a chance. I like that. Wait a minute. I think she’s hotter than I thought. And those hands. How they’re clasped together beneath her chin. Softly. But I bet they’re strong. And soft. I bet all of her is strong and soft. Come on, J, sit forward so I can see your face. Maybe I should say something. But what? Hello? Why are you taking the class? Would you like to go away with me? Ugh. Lame. She’d probably get up and go to the back of the lab. Or just leave the class altogether. No. She can make the first move. I’ll make her sweat a bit and see how she handles it. But I can’t be too coy or she might think I’m straight. I could give her a sign. But what? Write “I’m gay” on a piece of paper and spray some perfume on it? These butches can be so sensitive. It’s kind of cute. Endearing. It can be annoying, though, too. Like now when all I want is for her to say, “Come with me, Janey.” Where would we go? Her place? My place? A hotel room somewhere? Take a walk together, hand in hand on the boardwalk? Dinner? Yes to all of it. She can take me anywhere she wants. Come on, J, say something.
Wednesday
Okay, tonight I’m saying something. What’s my problem? Just talk to her. “Hi, Janey. I’m J.” What’s the big deal? We both speak English. We’re both taking this class for whatever reason. Learning the same thing. Well, I’m not learning anything. I can’t concentrate. My boss’ll be pissed if I can’t show him I got something out of this. I better pay attention tonight then. Janey is probably learning. I could ask her a question about yesterday. That would solve two problems. It’d be a way to talk to her first of all. But it might also let her know that I was too rapt by her to pay attention to what the teacher was showing us. Nah, she wouldn’t get that. Too subtle. This feels game-like. I guess it’s a game. All this changing who you are to get someone to like you. And acting like an idiot in the process. Or trying hard not to change who you are to get someone to like you. Making a concerted effort to act a certain way. That’s game playing, too. I need to get over my damn self. I mean, she’s just sitting right there. Jesus, this is ridiculous. Oh no, where is she going? Damn.
Thursday
Yeah, she’s surprised to see me. That’s nice to know. I bet she thought I left the class for good. Ooh, and I see she’s moved her chair closer to mine. Seems she might have a plan. I hope so, because she does not want me to ask her out first. If I have to do that, she will never live it down for the rest of our lives. Our friends will know the story of how she blushed for a week in a computer class and could barely speak. Our children will know the story. Grandchildren. Every time I tell it, it will get funnier and funnier. Oh, but she is something. I’m pretty sure she is everything I’ve been looking for. Great. Now we have to do some computer work. Which means we’ll be on lockdown for the rest of the night. Oh well, another break time opportunity go— is she leaning over here?!
“Janey?”
“Hmm?”
“Hi. J.”
“Hi, J. It’s nice to meet you. Finally.”
“I— I found this under your chair after you left last night and figured it was yours. What is it? A glow stick? Without the glow?
“Looks like it. But it’s not mine.”
“Oh. So what do you think of the class?”
“It’s okay. I’m not really learning anything.”
“Really? You look like you’re really into it.”
“I’m finding it hard to concentrate.”
“I’m not concentrating much, either.”
“J?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t have plans tomorrow night.”
