Signs

Vanessa lived in my dorm. So, the next morning I got up and walked to the lobby and waited in a discrete location behind my laptop and glasses.

I pulled up my blog to refresh my memory. Hm. Let's see. She knew I liked beef stew, broomball, ultimate Frisbee. She knew I had three intimate partners. She knew I considered myself a classical liberal. Whew. Okay, it's not as bad as I thought. Okay, eight O' clock.

As I expected, she walked by.

Pink leggings, pink scarf, white sweater.

This was curious...

And, she was walking with some guy.

"Oh, good," I thought. "Maybe she fantasizes with a lot of different guys like this. Maybe this is how she gets her kicks." At the time this seemed plausible. I had learned to eliminate few possibilities with regards to women. For me it was a bittersweet feeling, having just experienced her vast landscapes of pain, happiness, and vivid desires. Even if I wasn't her only subject, I couldn't help but identify with her. As she disappeared through the door, down the sidewalk, and out of sight, I continued to think about her entries. It was almost as if I was traveling back to that moment beneath the street light...that maybe if she continued to write for a lifetime or maybe two, she could express some part of what was revealed in those few seconds...those parts that I had by now forgotten. I shook my head and picked up my bags. It was time to go to the library.

I walked in quiet concentration. "My imagination must be getting the best of me," I thought. When I walk, I have this bad habit of looking at the ground, so Suzy startled me...

"Hi Magnus."
"Oh, hi Suzy."

Suzy was in my biology class. Blond, 5'2" with a pretty smile and lovely blue eyes. Oh, and...

A bright pink turtleneck.

She walked by as innocent as can be, not a care in the world, and no doubt willing to remove her panties and accept my turgid cock in the library stacks. I needed to somehow pull my head out of my ass and get my feet on the ground. Now every girl with a pink sweater is suddenly going pantyless because the thought of ME liking it turns her on? I had to just relax and realize for a moment the world does not revolve around me and my stupid little over-revealing blog.

I walked into my literature class and sat down. I was early as usual. Jill walked in...pink sweater. Mary...pink sweater. Monica...pink sweater.

Either pink sweaters were all the rage or something was up. A joke? There were five in my class of twenty.

I had recognized the guy who walked out of the dorm with Vanessa that morning. He was in my next class. After class I caught up with him outside the lecture hall...

"Hey, how's it going, I'm Magnus."
"Jim." (we shook hands)
"You know Vanessa, right?"
"Sure do."
"You guys dating."
"No, just friends. Not my type."

I paused for a moment. This girl was every guy's type. And, I saw him leave with her in the morning. What? Did they have a pajama party and make snoopy snow cones? He asked where I was headed, and we were both going the same direction. So he motioned for me to walk with him.

"Ya know, Vanessa mentioned you, Magnus."
"Is that so."
"Oh yeah. She reads your blog."
"I guess that's what I wanted to talk to you about. You see, I'm not really available..."
"Oh, Vanessa knows all about it."
"I know, well, I guess she would if she read my blog, but..."
"That sort of thing turns her on. She enjoys learning about people. It's harmless."
"But, well, have you seen her blog?"
"She has a blog?"
"Well, I guess I'm not sure. Someone has a blog..."
"How 'bout everyone. Not her though. She's a shy one with a naive crush. She'll get over it."
"Alright, Jim, well, good to meet you."
"Good to meet ya. Hey what are you up to tonight?"
"Nothing."
"Well, a bunch of us are going to the bar tonight. You're welcome to join us if you want."
"Thanks anyway, not really my kind of place."
"Alright then see you around."

We parted ways. He must not have known I was only 19.

Well, it was a bit flattering that Vanessa had a little crush on me specifically. I had decided her blog could be a fantasy involving several different guys; a composite she had dreamed up including the best aspects of a variety gentleman. Apparently not.

I walked into the library and read more of her posts. She was prolific and detailed. To my dismay, she was not timid to dwell on my less-than-flattering attributes.

She seemed to relish the embarrassing: my ugly eye wear, unkempt beard; she found these things "strip-inducing" and even "fuzzily scrumptious," respectfully. Her writing was particularly fond of my glasses...as I scrolled through I discovered this one...

I slid them back over his ears before I let the dress slip to my ankles. Every curve and blemish is on display, and through the lens he watches with relentless clarity.

And later...

I looked through the thick-rims with a distant, machine-like stare as I finally sank onto him. I like to watch that moment when terror fills his beautiful brown eyes. It's like the opening of the lion's gate.

I quickly closed the browser window. This was not appropriate material for this venue.

I grabbed my bag and walked out of the library. I decided I must not dwell on it too much. Just a curious girl's infatuation, something I could handle...

As for the sweaters, I decided I was paranoid. Just because one girl happened to be showcasing a secret code for me does not mean they all are. Still, I couldn't help my eyes. They began looking for more signs. I couldn't shake the feeling there was something more to all this.