…And Whovie knows about it. This is going to be an interesting story, so sit down, grab a glass of lemonade and let’s talk.
This week I had a few off days, in which I started watching Sherlock and Game of Thrones. About the former, it’s an amazing show, it has a spark of life that the franchise really needed. It’s written by Stephen Moffat, A.K.A. Doctor Who’s serial hearts-breaker, and Mark Gatiss, A.K.A A guy I heve never heard of but who apparently has worked on Doctor Who too and is pretty talented, both writing and acting. The show revives the spirit of the original Sherlock Holmes in a way no previous remake could, and I’d go far enough to say it might become better than the original because, while Arthur Conan Doyle hated his creation and wrote half his stories just to shut people off, Moffat and Gatiss love him and work hard to make the audience do it too.
About the latter there’s not much to say, you’ve seen it online, it’s a lot of murder, incest and unforgettable weddings.
But you came here to see romance, and romance is… well, I’m going to try to give it to you.
Today I was with Ragazza and another two friends (who we’ll call Jim and Jane, because I’m tired of making up clever names to people I probably won’t mention again), killing some time before our tests. We were talking about our plans for holidays when I saw a certain girl coming out of the bathroom a few metres away. I decided I should say hello, so I walked up to her and made some small talk (achievement unlocked). And then I thought of something.
“You know,” I said, “we don’t hang out much lately, we should do something one of these days.”
“Well, I haven’t seen you in a while… but maybe it’s because I haven’t been showing up to class a lot lately” she said, half-blushing. “So when are you free?”
“Well, I have a couple of hours this Thursday, we could have lunch or something.”
“Then Thursday it is! I gotta go, I have a class in a minute. See you!”
And that was it. I’m still not sure if it counts as a date, seeing that we both have classes before and after the time we agreed and thus we would have to remain at school or at least very close, but it’s a start. It’s been years since my last date, so I think I might as well count this as one. We didn’t discuss what we’re doing, so I still have to come up with something, but hopefully if I sleep on it I get a cool idea.
Anyway, I went back to my guys and I told them what happened. Jane was not very surprised.
“Yes, she is.”
“Didn’t you like her last year?”
“Oh, come on, you’re not cheating me, I know you did.”
“All right,” I admitted, “I did like her. Maybe now things can work. What do you guys think about her?”
“I think she looks nice,” Ragazza said. “Good luck with your date!”
And so I departed, to the massacre formerly known as the Japanese Oral Test.
A few hours later, I was in the class I have with Whovie; we were “working” on teams (even though everyone, students and teacher, knew we weren’t doing anything) and I thought this was as good a moment as any to bring up the subject.
“So, guys,” I cheerfully said, “guess who got a date?”
“Really?” Whovie answered. “What’s his name?”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.”
“Relax, I’m just fucking with you.”
“No you’re not,” I observed, “that’s why I have a date.”
She started to fake gagging and everyone laughed. The teacher asked us to keep it quiet and I talked again.
“So… Whovie, remember Neko, the girl from our French class last year?”
“The small girl, big eyes, I talked to her a lot…”
“under 5” tall, super-straight hair?”
“Blue contacts, I borrowed her phone once?”
“That’s the same.”
“Mhm. Nice one, good luck.”
“Well… that’s why I wanted everyone’s opinion.” The other three guys (now Kyle, Mel and Wendy) looked at me. “The thing is, I’m dating this girl, she’s cool and everything, and we’re both nineteen. The problem is that she looks way younger than she is, and I’m told I look older than I am, so I’m a bit concerned.”
Everyone looked at me like I’d just showed them the trailer of Sleeping Dogs Lie.
“Why?” said four people at the same time, almost getting the teacher to pretend she cared about our noise again.
“Well… I don’t want people to look at us and think I’m a paedophile or something like that.”
I don’t know the English name for the “you’re just talking nonsense, don’t be ridiculous” sound, but that’s what they all did.
“Come on,” “Wendy said, “There’s no age to love!”
“And you said you’re both nineteen, so what’s the problem?” Kyle added.
“Don’t give a damn about what people say, it’s your life,” continued Mel.
“Besides,” said Whovie, “She doesn’t look that young. I mean, she’s petite and cute, but she has her curves, she doesn’t look like a child. I know, I wouldn’t do it with a child.”
“Wait, you did what?” I said, almost unable to contain my voice.
“I’m just kidding! Though I would if I had the chance…”
The topic changed back to Whovie then, like it always does, and Mel started to ask her about her love life. They apparently have a lot in common. And for what Whovie said, I finally got my head around the idea that ‘us’ won’t happen, because what she described as her ideal couple was someone who didn’t pay her attention and just called her to have rough sex, which exactly the opposite of my intentions with her (not the rough sex part, I could work on that, I meant the not paying attention). She essentially asked to be Bella Swan, and I’m more a Jacob guy than a- why the fuck am I using Twilight metaphors?
At the end I came home to find a last, pleasant surprise: my dad called, he says one of his friends is looking for an English teacher for a private school, and since I study Languages I might be able to get the job (standards are really low around here). I’m not really into teaching but the money is decent and Mission Wheels is priority, so I asked for the details and requirements and if I’m lucky I might get it. Let’s cross fingers!
I’m starting to think the three morals at the end of each post are kind of cheesy, so I don’t think I should keep writing them. If anyone thinks the opposite, be free to comment.