I had a lot of assumptions about him, but no real information.
What did he mean, he wanted to get to know me? He hadn’t expressed much interest in me at all yet, other than my underwear and maybe my body. When I tried to talk to him about his dad and my mom, he more or less blew me off. Suddenly, he wanted to sit next to me and get to know me? It was bizarre. Noah had never been serious with me, either. So far, he was mostly one long string of pushy jokes and crude remarks, all wrapped up in a fantastic smile and amazing body. He was definitely confident, but he also didn’t seem interested in actually knowing me. In fact, from what I’d heard about him, he didn’t seem interested in knowing anyone.
Apparently, he had only a few close friends. I did some more Facebook stalking after talking with Chris on our stoop the day before, and even went so far as to ask Selena more questions. Fortunately, Selena was a pretty clueless person, and always eager to dish gossip. According to her, Noah had few close friends, though plenty of girlfriends. Back in the day, his dorm was more or less a revolving door of one skank after another, which grossed me out. She said he spent most of his time hanging out, drinking too much, and going out to bars, which disappointed me. Still, he was in the honors college, which meant that he had to be a pretty decent student. He was on some rec league sports teams, and he was a peer student teacher for a film class on Stanley Kubrick. Basically, he seemed like the model collegiate student, except that he wasn’t. He drank and smoked pot and slept with whatever girls he wanted to, and he was a complete asshole.
I couldn’t seem to figure him out. Sitting next to him during Professor Johnson’s lecture, his weird comment rolling around in my head, didn’t help at all. Part of me wanted to interrupt everything and ask Noah exactly what he meant, but that was insane. Instead, I sat quietly, dutifully taking notes, or at least taking some semblance of notes.
Eventually, the period ended, and Professor Johnson wrapped up his lecture. Noah turned to me as soon as everyone started packing up.
“So, polka dots, what are you doing now?”
I looked at him, surprised. “Nothing really. Why?”
He grinned. “Don’t be so shocked. Want to go for a walk or something?”
I stared for half a beat. Was I stuck in some parallel universe where a guy like Noah Carterson wanted to spend time with me? I mean, I wasn’t exactly unattractive, but I wasn’t winning any beauty contests, either. I didn’t think I was remotely his type, and I definitely wasn’t putting out anytime soon. So why was he suddenly interested?
“Yeah, sure, whatever,” I managed to get out.
“Cool,” he grunted, as we packed our things.
My head was swimming with questions, totally unsure about why Noah wanted to go for a walk, or what he even meant by going for a walk. I realized I was spinning in circles when I started to analyze what “going for a walk” really meant, and concentrated on getting myself together instead.
We went out into the hall together, the last to leave the room, and headed down the hall, toward the stairs. We chatted idly about Professor Johnson, making jokes about how spacey and weird he was. It was actually pretty normal and nice; Noah didn’t once make a sexual innuendo at my expense. He kept calling me “polka dots,” though, which annoyed me, but not enough to ruin the good mood. We climbed down the stairs together then headed outside. We walked toward the bell tower, moving slowly. It was sunny out and warm, and everyone was sitting on benches or in the grass. The campus seemed more alive than usual, and I guessed it was the weather.
“So, are you looking forward to working at the worst theater in the world?” Noah asked
“It’s not that bad. I’ve been to much worse,” I said, and it was true. I’d seen much crappier places. My mother loved to cart me all over the place, taking me to every theater imaginable to see every small budget indie film possible. She said she wanted to give me an experience of the world, but really I thought she just wanted to see whatever movie was playing. I briefly wondered if Noah’s father had done the same for him.
“I know. It’s really not that bad, I guess. Miss Havisham, though...” He whistled and made a face
I laughed, knowing exactly what he meant. “She’s a character.”
“She’s pretty nuts. But she goes way back with my family, which is why she’s around.”
That was the first time Noah mentioned his family, or even his connection to the theater. I was a little surprised, but decided not to make a big deal out of it. I got the sense that he was pretty private about his home life.
“My mom likes her, too. I bet she has an interesting management style.”