A time to move on.
I got off the subway and walked the rest of the way to class. I’d made it through this stupid project, and Dylan hadn’t found out about my secret. Today was a good day. At least when he remembered me, it would be with fondness.
Once we were all seated, Professor Butthead called students up one at a time to present their projects. “Ms. MacDonald, it’s your turn. Are you prepared?” He folded his arms and wore a slight smirk like he didn’t believe I stood a chance of pulling this off. His smirk soon faded as Professor McCreedy, the head of the department, walked in and took a seat in the back, surprising all of us.
“Absolutely.” I took a deep breath and walked to the front of the room, receiving an encouraging smile from McCreedy along the way, and set my report on the podium. But I didn’t have to look down and read it to know what I was going to say.
“When I first started this project, I truly believed that size mattered.” The class snickered, but I smiled indulgently and kept filling them in on what I’d learned. “The truth is, we can’t prove one way or the other whether size matters or not. We can only draw conclusions. And after thorough research and help from some special friends, I’ve concluded that we’re human beings.”
Several heads nodded and the snickers subsided as I won them over.
“We all have issues based on the experiences we’ve had in life, not necessarily on the size of our produce.” A few more snickers rang out, but overall, I’d captured the attention of nearly everyone in the room. “That’s not to say there aren’t a few generalizations that might hold true on how the size of a man’s produce could potentially affect his personality, but just remember there are exceptions to every rule.”
I looked around the room, all eyes were riveted on me, and a newfound confidence I didn’t even realize I had filled me to the core. I no longer minded being in the spotlight. In fact, it felt darn good for a change. “At first, based on my observations and interview questions, I thought pickles were downright cocky because they felt they had to overcompensate for what they lacked, and cucumbers seemed comfortable with who they were, while zucchinis seemed overconfident women-magnets whose only thoughts were their next conquest. But then I dug a little deeper and discovered this: everyone’s self-conscious about some aspect of their bodies, no matter if they’re born gorgeous or wishing to be that way.” I smiled, as I ended with, “So don’t judge a man by his produce, get to know the person within, and we’ll all be better off. Just because one zucchini’s a jerk doesn’t mean they all are.”
The whole class broke out into applause, Professor McCreedy clapping the hardest. Professor Butthead’s face had puckered up like a prune. His mouth opened and shut a few times, then he sputtered, “Well done, Ms. MacDonald. You can take your seat now.”
When class was over, I treated myself to lunch in the cafeteria and ran into Callie’s Angels.
“So, how’d it go?” Red took a seat beside me.
“Great. You should have seen Butthead’s face when Professor McCreedy walked in. It was priceless.”
“We thought you’d like that.” Brownie grinned.
I blinked. No way. “I thought it was some coincidence when she walked in right before my presentation.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You guys did that for me?”
“Yeah, isn’t it great? We ran into her just before your class, and she was all too happy to check out your presentation. Jeepers, I wish I could have been there.” Blondie clapped.
“You guys are the best.” I got up and gave each of them a hug. “I could not have done this without you. Thank you all so much.”
“Hey, no big deal.” Brownie shrugged, but a smile tugged at her lips.
Blondie giggled. “We had fun.”
“Besides, how could we say no after we said your eggs were rotting?” Red grinned from ear to ear.
“That makes us even since I first thought of you all as giggling puddles of estrogen.” We all laughed. “I’ve got to get to work. Maybe I’ll see you next semester.”
“Count on it. And if you need any more help, you know where to look,” Red said with a smile.
“Thanks, Angels.” I waved as I left the cafeteria on cloud nine. First Dylan loved my redecorating, and then I’d succeeded in pulling off the insane project, and now I’d made friends. Real friends. Things were suddenly going right in my life.
I’d stopped running from my problems, learned how to stand up for myself, and I knew I wanted to be an Interior Designer. So why did the thought of entering a serious relationship terrify me? I guess I still wasn’t ready to trust men completely.