The Sodden Heart of False Affection

A girl goes through the motions of showing what I'd call an extremely "light" interest in someone that she doesn't want-er- anywhere near her. A collection based on a real experience.

1st Story ~ Unfortunate Happenchance

           

 * {First Meeting With Him}

 

             

 

   It was an unfortunate circumstance when I first came upon Vladimir. He was playing around on Facebook when I went into work one day, prepared to put myself into a position of the regal instructor's defined persona. I had my hair done up in a bun and walked stately in. Now, since I worked Thursday mornings at the Madonna University- private college I attended- at the Writing Center, I knew there wouldn't be that many students. I therefore sat unsuspecting of my fate, down at one of the first far removed computers I spotted.

            "Hey." I glanced up. A guy with enormous brown eyes, and lips that were as wide as a half-moon pasted onto his poor face- and I say pasted because they were so large that they seemed to hang off of his face like scotched-tape- was giving me the complete benefit of a smile. I whimpered inside myself. Oh, no.

            "Hi," I forced out of myself with another effort, in a forced smile. His own smile grew if that was even possible, larger.

            "My name's Vladimir." He was moving to stand up, moving, if my unfortunate eyes didn't deceive me, to the chair that was next to me. He stuck out a hand, which I took. My smile now hid the fact that I was gritting my teeth together.

            "Charmed, I'm sure," I forced out. He sighed comfortably. 'What-the-heck are-you-doing?' I wanted to scream at him. He eased himself down, totally comfortable. I watched his movements out of the corner of my eye.

            "How long have you worked here?" he asked me with much too open, amiable curiosity.

            "About um . . . two months, thereabouts." I paused. "I haven't seen you here before. How long have you been here?" My words were said too quickly. He shrugged.

            "That's because I just work evenings usually. Frances put me on more this semester though." Frances was the head of the Center.

            "Oh. Yeah, I was told that it's been busier than usual . . . " I let my words linger. I was really trying not to talk too much. He just shrugged. I rolled my eyes upward. He was so oblivious!

            "Yeah, it has been," he said way too easily. He looked at me again. How could anyone have sooo much expression? That mouth of tape kept flapping.

            For the next few minutes I was thrown into the sad situation of having to make polite conversation with this dumb guy, whose obvious interest in me was interfering with the poetry reading I was doing, which I definitely thought was way more high class. Finally- I thought it would never happen- Vladimir arose.

            "We'll, I've got to get back to class. I'm not actually supposed to be here." Yet he was- still smiling brightly. I scarcely refrained from rolling my eyes once more.

            "Oh. Are you in the middle of a class? What class are you in?"

            "Criminal Justice. Class on victimology."

            "Oh, so you're a Criminal Justice major," I said, looking off somewhere in the distance.

            "Yeah . . . " he smiled. Again! "Well, I'll see you around, Brooke." Did I even give him my name?

            "Yep, see you around, Vladimir," I told him, before turning quickly away. Ugh. I hoped that would never happen. I returned to my poetry reading.

Author's Note

I would love it if you would share your thoughts, ideas, and questions with me. They make the writing worth it in such a higher degree.