Meeting Time Approaches

Cuthbold doesn't so much burst into a room so much as stumble into it. Many of his skills involve him being awkward in some way. At least he's consistent. I know I pick on Cuthbold a lot, mostly because it's just so easy, but he does have a head for numbers and budgets and things like that. He's in his role because he keeps the school operating. He's good with numbers, not so much with people.

“Ah, Patrick, good, you're here.” I considered telling him that I wasn't really here, that I was a hologram or a figment of his imagination or a dream but I didn't think he'd fall for that again. “Just so you know, I'll need you to wear a suit on Thursday.”

I gaped at him in surprise. I could generally get away with a rather casual dress, only upgrading to serious business attire when we have the Big Meetings, but this was different. “A suit?” I echoed.

“And a tie, preferably one that attempts to match the rest of your outfit.” The man knows me too well.

I was crushed. It isn't so much that I can't dress up or never dress up but this level of dressing up for work didn't bode well. “May I inquire why I need the suit on Thursday?”

“And tie?” he reminded.

I amended my earlier question. “Suit and tie on Thursday?”

“Certainly you may. We've called an impromptu Board Meeting for that day. One of the more tenured members of our sister school in Middlesex, England will be here and we want to impress him.”

Knowing Cuthbold's way, I pressed further. “Will I need to prepare a presentation for this meeting?”

Cuthbold shook this off. “No, I shouldn't think so. He's a financial expert, not likely to have much interest in computers. Well, just remember, suit and tie for Thursday.” He nodded and headed out, barely avoiding my door as he left my office.

Once he was gone, to myself I counted to five. At five, Cuthbold's shiny dome reappeared in my doorway. “I will be calling upon you to give him a tour of the campus of course. You provide such a quality tour.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Excellent. Excellent.” He beamed. “Remember, suit and tie.”

Once he departed, I opened up my standard presentation to verify it was up-to-date. I expected he'd probably change his mind in a minute.

Perspective

“Do you at least talk to her?”

I didn't understand the question as such. I required a better idea of what answer was expected of me. “No we just sit in silence all night, night after night.” I gestured to fully communicate my sarcasm.

Angela rolled her eyes at me. “Fine. Do you discuss things, like emotions and interests and plans, not just sit there and do things together? Do you share yourself with her?”

This was something I hadn't considered before. “I dunno. I think so.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Ask her.”

“If she tells me no, what good does that do you?”

I was all confused at this point.”You'd come and yell at me? I dunno, why?”

“Because jokes aside, I like you Patrick,” she informed. “Sarah Jean seems nice. I don't want you to screw this up like you did with Heather.”

I hadn't thought myself capable of a greater degree of confusion but apparently I'd been wrong. “Huh wha?” I intelligently responded. “I know it was awhile ago now but she cheated on me, remember?”

“That made it all her fault?” Angela demanded.

“Seems a simple enough equation to me,” I answered. I ticked events off on my fingers. “Cheated on me, didn't seem to care what I thought about it, broke up with me. Yup, seems like she took charge of that situation.”

Angela just looked at me. “So. Why did she break up with you?”

This became frustrating. “I don't know! To sleep with... him I suppose, because I wouldn't.”

“Why not?”

“Because that's how I was raised. Silly to others maybe and why my head is wired that way may not make sense to anyone else but that's how my brain works.”

Angela nodded. “And Heather knew that?”

“Of course,” I declared. “It was an early discussion point in high school. We agreed on it.”

“Did you ever discuss it again?”

I paused to consider this. “I dunno. It's been awhile. I don't remember every conversation I've ever had. I know it seems like it sometimes but I dunno.”

“Can I tell you why I asked?”

“Please do!” I encouraged.

“I always thought you two were half a step away from breaking up,” Angela informed. “I didn't think either of you wanted to be without the other or had interests in someone else but that you were missing something that threatened your relationship.”

“Really?” I asked. When she nodded, I added “See because I always thought she and I had gotten to a rather comfortable level in our relationship. That's a lot of the reason why it... hurt me as badly as it did.”

“You were comfortable,” she agreed.”That was the nice thing about being around you two at the time but I think that was also your downfall.” I gave her a 'huh?' look that was her trigger to continue. “I think you two got too comfortable. You stopped communicating to each other so when there were things you needed to talk about, you'd forgotten how. Or maybe you just assumed the other would know. Or that you should know. Or that there was no point in discussing certain things because they had been settled.”

I fidgeted with the beer bottle before me. This was not unreasonable. “Hmm.” I considered this for another moment, realizing this would take some thought. “So you're saying it was like we were talking but not really talking.”

“I think so,” she responded. “From my perspective anyway.” I glanced back to her and saw her smiling at me. “I haven't seen 'thinking' Patrick for a long time.”

“I think all the time,” I protested playfully.

“But I haven't seen you do it,” she noted.

I conceded the point. “Ah, very true.” I looked at my beer and then back at her. “Thanks.”

She beamed at me. “You are very welcome. Now, don't screw it up!”

“Yes 'em.”

A Sudden Confession

It was the bugs that finally drove me indoors. Sure it was sunny, sure it was muggy, but that I could deal with to some degree. Bugs not so much. Insects, especially those that bite, seem to be fascinated by me, attracted to me even. I can only swat them away for so long before the entertainment value wanes.

Inside the house was not off limits by any means and there were a few people hiding out in there, so I was not being antisocial by going inside. Richard was in there as well as Dave, Kelly and his wife Kellie, and Jerry. I was cheerfully greeted and joined them, trying to not think too much about what else Scott was telling Sarah Jean. Time flew.

Time eventually flew the beer through my personage and the time to remove it had arrived. After I'd taken care of this vital mission, I emerged from the room of rest to discover that the size of our group inside had increased. Angela had arrived! I haven't seen her in years, was just talking about her and here she is. Scott must have told that story knowing she would be coming to the party. She looked good, really quite good. I have no interest in going into much detail as, well, I don't need any more violence from Sarah Jean. I was pleased to see her and was pleased to see that she was pleased to see me as well. Tucked away in the hallway, we quickly caught up on the past years as neither of us felt we had much of anything critical to report.

“It's so nice to see you again Patrick,” she enthused. The she smiled rather warmly at me while becoming distracted by her shoes. “You know I was always... fond of you.”

“As was I of you,” I returned. “I thought we were pretty good friends. Even after the... unpleasantness.”

She remained focused on her feet. “That was so awkward. I mean, I wanted to say something then but it seemed too soon after you two broke up and you clearly needed some time to adjust to everything.” Angela managed to look up at me to see my look of confusion. This seemed to give her the confidence to smile at me. “Oh dear sweet innocent Patrick. You never noticed?”

“Noticed what?” I quickly echoed.

“I had such a crush on you.” Her hand reached out for my chin, then snapped away as if I were a hot stove. “I would never do anything to have split you up but I wanted you to be available so badly.” She leaned in, invading my personal space. Shocked by this revelation, I braced myself with the wall behind me, allowing her to trap me. Her voice lowered and became breathy. I was far too aware of her nearness. “I spent nights thinking about you, wondering what it would be like to have you hold me close.” She paused, looking into my eyes as if she could see through them into my very soul. “I always imagined you as a... generous lover.”

It took a second but my brain processed that concept, breaking my surprise. “You've been talking to Sarah Jean, haven't you?”

Immediately she began giggling and fell back to the wall behind her. “I'm sorry,” she managed. “I just couldn't help myself.” I just gave her a sour 'I'm mad at you but not really mad at you' look. Now that my emotions were returning to normal, I could see some humor in her action.

Nice to see some things don't change.

Wondering

Why does Scott remember it as a funny story? It made him laugh now when he told it and Sarah Jean laughed in response to hearing him tell it. Yet, when it happened, he was all sorts of angry. Why the change?

Honestly, I don't know.

I didn't hear his version of the story. I don't know how he remembers the situation. Maybe all he remembers is my outfit or Bob getting hurt. Maybe he doesn't realize how angry he came across as at the time.

Perhaps time healed the wounds. At the time, it was Very Serious Indeed but, really, who did it hurt? Long term, the only person really hurt was Bob and I don't really know what happened to him, so maybe not playing football worked out for him. So maybe it's just a silly story that actually happened to us.

Or maybe he knows something I don't. That thought bugs me.

Coda

It was an uncomfortable ride home. Heather was apologetic. Angela was working to calm down. Abigail was quiet, apparently thinking of the boy she'd met. Given that, perhaps everyone wasn't uncomfortable.

The event effectively killed Heather's interest in going to similar parties. She felt that she'd been invited so that we could be the entertainment. Even if that wasn't the reason, she felt betrayed by Carol for the participation, to whatever level it had been. As I had 'been right' but didn't gloat about that, it helped us reconcile some of our recent differences. The fact that I had to shave off my beard in order to remove the tape goo from it didn't hurt either. The fact that I didn't grow the beard back helped immensely.

The next week of school was rough. Pictures of 'Kitty Frou Frou' popped up all around campus. A few websites appeared to 'celebrate' the situation, much of which called into question Carol's attempted apology that it had been a spur of the moment decision. It hadn't been. Much later, Eric would take credit for the event. By that point, no one really cared anymore.

Lest you think that only my side of the equation lost out that night, next weekend Bob was injured during a game and never played football again, losing out on the possibility of big money in the majors. When it happened, Scott couldn't help but laugh, theorizing that the knee injury might have started while he was being restrained from attacking Scott.

It wasn't really funny. None of it was really funny.

Except the outfit. I did look ridiculous.

All It's Missing is a Bunch of Kids Yelling 'Fight! Fight!'

As the football players were showing off by wearing their jerseys, they were easy for Scott to identify. Scott knew something about their team so he had no real problem walking directly up to Bob. Scott nudged him in that age old 'we are going to fight' maneuver. “Think you're funny, huh?”

Bob did not care for this at all. He and his friends rose to answer Scott's shove with the intense 'you had better not start something' look. “What's you're problem? Who're you?”

“I'm the guy that's here to tell you that you ain't so funny,” Scott said helpfully.

One of Bob's teammates nudged him, pointing out my returned presence. Bob suddenly grinned. “Oh, so you're friends with Kitty Frou Frou?” He laughed. “In that case, I'm hilarious dude.”

“That's what I told my buddy. Last week. Watching you play. Said you were a joke.”

Bob's grin disappeared immediately. A stream of serious vulgarities spewed from him, generally forming the question “What do you know?” Bob's friends restrained him, apparently deciding that an actual fight was probably and in no one's best interests. One football player worked to be Scott's pacifier. As Scott hadn't made a move towards Bob, he didn't need to be restrained yet. This teammate tried to talk Scott out of further antagonizing of Bob. Scott just glared at Bob.

I was uncomfortable through all this, only in part due to my unusual attire. There's something about me that seems to engage the 'big fella protector mode' in my friends. Looking back, I've usually had a buddy that was taller and more muscular and willing to make sure I wasn't taken advantage of by jerks. A few went so far as to tell me up front that, if I needed anybody beat up, to let them know. I'd never taken anyone up on that polite effort. While I appreciated Scott's effort in my behalf and the intent behind what he was doing, but the situation still felt weird. I felt I had no way to talk him out of this.

“Scott!” Angela's voice cut through the rapidly forming crowd before she could physically join us. When she appeared, she was followed by a puzzled Abigail and a concerned Heather, who had my clothes. “Are you okay?” she asked as she handed them over.

“I'm fine,” I insisted. At the moment I was more concerned with the contents of my pockets. I knew I was okay.

Abigail smiled at me suddenly. “I think you look cute.”

What do you say to that? “Thanks.”

The real show was still between Angela and Scott. All six foot whatever of Scott was glaring at Angela and all five foot four of Angela was firing right back at him. “I thought we discussed this,” she noted coldly.

“Not really,” Scott snapped.  “You said stuff. You got no hold on me. I don't need your permission to beat him like a drum.”

“There's no...”

Scott quickly cut her off. “I'm tired of guys like him thinking he can do whatever he wants just because he made a team. He's a third rate fullback that's starting because he's a upperclassman and Jenkins' got hurt!”

Words can hurt more than fists. Once again insulted, Bob lunged forward as he screamed a response. His buddies managed to stop him. The Pacifier Jock (I wish I could remember his name) gave Scott a Very Serious Look. “Dude, you guys gotta go. We can't have this. You don't want this. Just go man.”

I summoned up my courage and walked into the lions den. Tugging at Scott's sleeve to get his attention, I agreed with this concept. “Dude, let's just go. I have all my stuff and I've got too many people enjoying this outfit as they come to see what's going on and I'm not impressing anybody in this thing. Let's just get outta here.”

Scott's expression remained stern. He looked from me to Angela to Pacifier Jock to me again. While clearly still upset, Scott's anger had started to fade, the intensity beginning to drain from him. After a quiet moment or two, he nodded sharply. “Yeah, okay.” He nodded to Pacifier Jock, turned, and we all walked away.

Trouble Boils Over

Scott drive away, grumbling in an audibly inarticulate manner. Mike turned to face me in the back seat. He continued to fight a laugh. “Need some help there?”

A number of responses occurred to me. I selected “Yes please.” He reached for my headpiece but I shook him off. “I'll do that. Free my hands man.” As the car bumped along in the dark, he sought to find the tape edge. This task proved impossible in the meager time alloted him. Focused on our task as we were, it seemed like mere moments before we were double parked in front of the house where the party was located.

Outside, in the improved light, Mike was able to start removing the tape from my right hand. “The jocks had been generous with the duct tape and removing it took some time. Scott stomped back and forth. Angela ran up to us. “Are you okay?” she asked, genuine concern on display.

“I feel stupid,” I responded.

“I'm looking for new information,” she enthused. “You looked unconscious when they carried you out.”

“There's a reason for that,” I explained. “I was.”

“But you're okay?” she checked again.

“I think so, yeah. Physically anyway.”

Once that was communicated, Angela started laughing. During a brief moment when she managed to refrain from guffawing, she stated “I'm so glad; then I can enjoy this.”

“You do look ridiculous,” Mike again stated.

I could understand the concept. “I feel ridiculous.”

Scott's grumbling and pacing suddenly ceased with an explosion of vulgarities. In some language he expressed his dislike for this situation, what he thought of the marital state of the jocks' mothers when the jocks had been born, as well as where the jocks would find his foot in their anatomy. Scott was generally a mellow fellow but when he got mad, he tended to go full force. While he was not angry with me, I still shuddered from the force of his words.

Angela's laughter stopped. Her mirth was replaced be concern. Calmly she declared “I didn't call you in for trouble Scott. I knew you'd find Patrick before things get worse.” She didn't feel she had his full attention and sharply shouted his name to snap him into facing her. “I'll go back in and get his stuff. We don't need any trouble Scott.” Her eyes narrowed. “Got it?” He just grumbled. “Got it?” Scott managed to make some sort of gesture that looked affirmative. “Good.”

“You know where my clothes are?” I asked.

She smiled. “Not yet but I will.” Angela quickly posed seductively. In a higher pitch, simple sounding voice, she said “You guys 'r' so funny. What did 'u' do to that guy? Oh wow.” Just as quickly, she snapped back out of this mode and winked at us. “Five minutes, tops.” Confidently, she strode to the house.

Mike just stared at her. “She is so hot.”

“She would chew you up and spit you out,” I informed.

“What a way to go!”

Finally my hands were free from their furry prisons. I thanked Mike for the restoration of my dexterity as I had missed it so. The only other item that made sense to remove at this point was the headdress and I worked on that.

Have you ever had to remove an adhesive bandage from a part of your body where hair commonly grows? Peeling off the bandage is always bad enough but add in the reaction of that hair and it can be like torture. Remove it slowly? Remove it quickly? There's no painless option.

Duct tape is not really designed to be applied to the human body. Had it just been attached to my person, it might not have been that bad an experience. They had wrapped it around my head three times, grinding it in. I'm surprised it didn't affect my ability to speak more than it had. The first layer to be removed was bad but it was mostly attached to other tape rather than me. Once I got closer to the bottom layer, it became a greater problem. With a great deal of momentum, I quickly pealed it off. The yelp of pain that followed was instinctive. Through watery eyes, I looked down at the tape, seeing bits of my beard upon it.

This was the last straw for Scott. After a generic expression of anger, he turned and stomped for the house. Mike and I were unable to stop him.

This would be bad.