FINDING A PERFECT PLACE

POOL'S AND PARTY

I helped her out a few times in the next couple of weeks. She wasn't dumb, not by a far long shot-she was very smart, actually. She just wasn't intuitive about math, and the professor didn't help. It was a good thing I was intuitive about math, or he would've lost me.

So, I was helping her. I didn't see it as anything more than that. Though I did enjoy her company. We always took breaks to de-Calculus our brains, and I enjoyed chatting with her. But that was it. I was helping her study, that was all. That we got along decently just made it easier.

That's why I was surprised when, about three weeks after I had started tutoring her, she came to where I was sitting in the dining hall and plopped down in front of me. "Hi! Want company?"

"Sure," I said, surprised.

"You looked lonely sitting over here all by yourself," she giggled.

"I usually eat with my roommate, but he's in Oregon at the moment."

"Oregon?" she asked.

"He's a football player. Away game tomorrow." This was on a Friday. "They go up there a day early."

"Ah. Well, am I an acceptable substitute for your roommate?" she giggled.

"Well, you're a hell of a lot better looking than he is," I said, surprising myself. She just giggled again. "However, if you want to talk sports-which is what Jake talks about most of the time-be advised that, while I know a lot about football, I know little about swimming."

"Well, what's to know? It's a rather uncomplicated sport," she smiled. "You get in the pool, you swim, whoever swims fastest wins. Football's a lot more complicated.'

"Especially here," I grinned. "Jake's playbook is bigger than our Calculus textbook."

"Welcome to Stanford," she laughed, "where they even expect the athletes to know how to think."

As we chatted-easily, especially for me-I noticed something. Sheila was a very popular girl. Ten seconds didn't go by before someone passing by us yelled out a "Hi Sheila" or a "Hey, Sheila, how's it going?"

After a few minutes of this, I looked at her, bemused, and said, "What, do you have your own fan club or something?"

She laughed. "I just know a lot of people, that's all."

"You're a social butterfly," I grinned.

"Sort of. And you're not, are you?" she asked astutely. "You should be. You're a good person."

"I'm rather shy, actually."

"Not with me," she smiled.

"Well, you got me where I live," I grinned. "Flattered my brains. I'm a complete sucker for that."

"Ah," she laughed.

"And you're easy to talk to, imagine my surprise. Even though you asked for my help, you talk to me like I'm a person, not a computer with legs."

"You are a person. A nice one, even," she grinned. I think I probably blushed! "However, I was wondering, do you have time this weekend? What with that exam coming up Monday..."

"Of course, I have time. Any time you need."

"Tomorrow afternoon?"

"That's fine. The game is tomorrow night. I have to watch my roomie kick Oregon's butt."

"That's cool, I'm going to a party tomorrow night. 1 in the afternoon OK? I have to swim before that."

"That's fine," I said.

I got up the next morning, did some laundry, went to brunch. By the time I got back from brunch and retrieved my laundry, it was still only 11:30. I had an hour and a half to kill before Sheila came over to study. I ended up walking the campus-and somehow ended up at the aquatic center.

There were stands-swimming was an important sport at Stanford, our team was always nationally ranked, and the meets actually got respectable crowds. So, I parked myself a few rows up and watched. There were a number of people swimming, but I picked her out immediately.

I'd known she was a swimmer, and I knew what swimming entailed. And I'd seen her body-well, under a tee shirt and shorts, but I had an idea about her muscles. But I wasn't prepared for how she looked powering her way through the water. She was doing the backstroke, and she moved faster than I ever could've imagined. I'd seen swimming at the Olympics, of course, but seeing on TV didn't come close. Watching her backstroke through the water was like watching a motorboat-except this motorboat was powered by sheer muscle. It was riveting.

I shouldn't have come. That was my first thought. If I was intimidated by her before this-and I was-this was even more intimidating. I thought about leaving-but I was riveted. After I came to the decision that I was going to leave-Sheila came out of the pool for a break, and saw me.

"BRENDAN! Hi!" she yelled, and then came over to me. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know, I was wandering the campus, killing time, and I decided I wanted to see you swim."

"Cool!" she said. "I'm glad. What did you think?"

"I'm flabbergasted," I said. "It's so much faster in person."

"Everybody says that," she giggled. "Are you going to stick around? I just need to do a few more laps in a couple minutes, then we can go study."

"OK," I said, trying to convince myself.

I ended up staying. Every time I thought about leaving, she paused in her laps and grinned at me. And it really was impressive to watch. The problem was, I had somehow avoided being my usual hopeless tongue-tied self around this girl-and I was afraid, after watching what she was capable of, I was going to revert to type.

Anyhow, I stayed, and she went out to change and I waited for her. I think the image of her powering through the water was forever imbedded on my mind. Also, I admit it, the image of her standing in front of me, wet, wearing a bathing suit!

She came out and we walked to my dorm. She was dressed more-or-less as she usually was-shorts and a blouse-but I couldn't see her that way anymore. As I had feared, the old tongue-tied Brendan was in full presence.

"You OK?" she asked me after a while.

"Fine," I said.

"Look, if you don't want to do this today..." she began.

"Of course I do," I said. "I'm fine. Really."

"No, you're not, but I'm not going to press the issue."

How did this girl get me to talk? Before I could stop myself, I told her, "Look. I told you I get shy."

"Never around me," she said.

"I've never seen you swim before," I said softly. She looked at me, but didn't say anything.

Once we got back to my room, I was better-because we were back in my element. But the memory lingered long after she had left.

We had our first calc exam on Monday. I didn't have any problem with it. After class, Sheila walked by me and said, "I think it went well. We'll see."

Wednesday we got them back. We were sitting on opposite sides of the class, but when she got hers back, I saw her light up with a smile, then she turned around, found me, and grinned at me.

When class was over, she came running out of the lecture hall-and grabbed me in a hug! "Brendan! You're a damn miracle worker!" She held up her test-which said 91. "I can't believe I did this well!"

"I'm glad," I said-which I was, but I was also thunderstruck that she was hugging me!

"Oh, Brendan, you did this for me! I'm so excited! Look, how can I repay you? Anything. Anything at all."

I said it before I even thought. "Well, how about going out with me for dinner Friday?" And then immediately wanted to take the words back.

"I'd love to!" she said happily.

WHAT?

"Really?" I stuttered. "I mean, well, great!"

"I was waiting for you to ask," she grinned. WHAT?!?!?!? "We can go wherever you want, I have a car-I know you don't."

"Well, I do, but it's in Illinois," I grinned. "That's fine, we can decided then what we're in the mood for."

"Great!" she said. "I'll see you in class Friday, we can work out the details. I have to swim Friday afternoon, but I don't know when yet."

"That's fine."

"Great! See you Friday," she said, and she was off.

Oh my Jesus, did I just do that?

Oh, Christ. Now I had two days to go out of my mind.

I was sitting in my room after supper that night, pretending to do homework but really obsessing about it, when Jake stumbled in from football practice.

"Hey, Rooms, what's up? You look preoccupied."

"You know that girl I've been helping with calc?"

"Yeah, Sheila Mitchell, the swimmer, " he said, "you told me. I've never met her, but I know people that know her."

"Yeah, well, we have a date Friday night," I said.

"That's great!" he said.

"Yeah, great," I said depressedly. "Jake, I've only been on a couple dates in my life, and none since, oh, tenth grade-and that one was a set-up from my mother. I haven't yet been on a date that wasn't a disaster. And I actually asked out this beautiful, popular, incredible girl. I am going to f**k this up. I can't believe I actually asked her out! What was I thinking?"

"You were thinking that you like her," he grinned. "Bren, don't obsess, eh?"

"What's worse is that she's only going out with me out of gratitude."

"Bullshit," he said. "Girls don't do that, trust me. Especially girls that know you like them-and believe me, she knows you like her. Girls pick up on those things. Unless she's cruel-and, from what I've heard about Sheila Mitchell, she's a sweetheart-she'd never say yes just out of gratitude."

"Hmm. Then why would she say yes?"

"Because she likes you, you i***t!" Jake said, but not nastily.

"Why on earth?"

"Bren, you've got some major self-image problems. I don't know what to tell you about that. All I can tell you about Sheila is this, though-go with the flow. She likes you, OK? Go with it. And relax, for Chrissakes!"

"Easy for you to say," I laughed.