The weeks were flying by, and I was bogged down with homework, papers, and school pressure I had never endured. I had always been a decent student, but I didn't have the sort of parents that demanded honor roll be served. Actually I had the sort of parents which were irrationally proud of me without me doing much effort. Dad had already told all of his friends, the entire church congregation, and the whole family in Puerto Rico, that I was going to be a lawyer.

It was a Tuesday when I finished my first Western Humanities paper, feeling pleased with myself when I realized I had not thought on my girls. I spent a lot more time alone but it allowed me to focus on school and on actually meeting new people.

I bit into my apple as I came around the corner and spotted Victor Manning on a couch in the atrium engrossed in a constipated conversation from hell on his phone. He looked utterly miserable and I shook my head because he was most likely having an argument with Helene. Why anyone would go off to college with a relationship was beyond me. His head was in his hands, he was hunched over, not saying a word but listening. At least he was a good listener and I reasoned that he must be a good boyfriend despite his other deficiencies if he was willing to listen to his girlfriend rant for hours on end.

I didn't think much on it, didn't even wave hello but when I got out of Western Humanities he was still there. Still talking and I knew that he had missed his Anatomy class because I remembered his schedule. I was going to walk past him and head to Burger King when he hung up the phone. My attempts at avoiding him went by the wayside when I saw his face. He looked utterly miserable. A part of my wanted to say suck it up, big boy, but I didn't. I wasn't that cruel. He ran a hand over his face which looked paler than usual and looked up at me.

"Where are you heading?" He seemed to be nonplussed to find me looking at him.

"Want to talk about it?" It was pure politeness that made me ask, I didn't really care what mess he was in.

"Nope." He stood up and shoved his phone into his jean pocket. He looked around and then back at me.

I let out a sigh of resignation. How had I gotten to this?

"I'm hungry, want to go to Burger King?" I asked.

I purposively chose Burger King because he looked like he ate kale and ground turkey with salt-free seasoning on a daily basis and would never be caught inside of a fast-food joint. He surprised me by simply nodding and walking to his car. He surprised me, even more, when he gestured that I get in. Into the same car I had defaced months ago. I bit my lip from saying something saucy as we were walking a tentative rope of semi-friends. He kept the BMW spotless which put my own disaster of an automobile to shame. The black leather was freshly oiled and it looked like he cleaned the dashboard with a Q-tip. Honestly, he probably did.

So we went to Burger King for the first time. It was not really lunch hour, that had passed, and the place was fairly empty. It smelled of oil and fat which made my mouth water.

"Welcome to Burger King, what can I get you?" The guy behind the counter looked utterly bored.

I stepped forward, glancing at Victor who stood tall and imposing with his hands in his pockets and studying the menu above as if Burger King had not offered the same thing since the beginning of time.

"A Whopper Jr., a side salad with lite ranch, and a small Sprite."

The guy put the order in still wearing the same awful frown. "Will this be together or separate?"

"Separate," I said.

Victor continued his assessment of the menu. He didn't say anything so I paid for the food and walked to grab a table, waiting for my number to be called. But I didn't hear them call my number then I saw Victor walking to me balancing two trays on his arms.

I stood to help him. "I could've gotten it."

He shrugged and handed me my tray, taking the seat across the table. He had four times the food I did, the only difference was that no Sprite for him instead there were three bottled waters, two Whoppers, a super-sized French fries, onion rings, and a container of chicken nuggets. I watched him with a growing smile as he stuffed three onion rings at the same time into his mouth and looked up at me.

"What?"

He looked self-conscious which was strange to think that out of all the people in the universe Captain of the Football team, big man on campus Victor Manning would be self-conscious. I smiled and shook my head pouring ranch over the salad.

"Nothing I'm just here for the ride of watching you eat all of that."

He glanced down at his food and then back at me. "I work out, I have to replenish my calorie count."

"Ahh." I dug into my food. "So, how often would you say you work out?"

He was halfway through his first Whopper before he answered and I noticed he politely did not speak with a mouthful plus he wiped at his mouth before speaking.

"Everyday."

"Wow," I said and munched on the burger. "You must love it, to do it every day."

He nodded and went back to eating. I was not deterred, I was known to be a chatterbox when at ease.

"I'm trying it but I get so bored, you're just like walking on this thing and you go nowhere, just walk and stare at a gym wall."

"You have to get in the zone," he said.

I let out a chuckle. "I looked for it, couldn't find it."

He looked at me rather curiously and I realized I was enjoying myself even if he was a bit monosyllabic. He was interesting to look at and study and I didn't think he realized that.

"This is very strange, this conversation," he said.

I sipped my Sprite. "What's so strange about it?"

"I don't know." He looked me over. "I don't think I've ever had a girl that was a friend before."

Again, I laughed, throwing my head back. It was more of a cackle and when I looked at him, he was stunned. I'd been told my laughter was ridiculous and I found myself wishing I had those delightful delicate laughs that were often described in my novels as a twinkling of brook water. Then I shook myself off, this was Victor Manning, man-whore, and asshole. It was better that he found me ordinary and not a candidate for immediate seduction.

"You mean to tell me that every girl you've hung out with has wanted to get in your pants?"

Victor licked his lips and looked down, his cheeks flushing slightly but forcing a smile.

"Must be tough being Victor Manning."

I reached over and stole a fry from his tray. He looked incredulous and I smiled and munched on the delicious saltiness.

"These are mine." He placed a muscled arm in protection of his food. "And it is tough being Victor Manning."

"It's a good thing I don't like you then."

He paused and cocked his head slightly and a real smile graced his lips. "You still hung up on Clem?"

I had the decency to flush. "No, there's tons more options now."

"But, if he walked in right now through those doors and said 'I love you Becka', you would jump into his arms without a second thought."

The jerk had the gall to smirk and I was hit with the sudden realization that he wasn't used to teasing people.

"I would." I raised my chin and smiled. "I've always had a thing for him, that's the truth."

He shook his head and finished his onion rings. "What do you see in that guy?"

I thought about it, sipping on the drink. "The way he walks."

Victor studied me, mulling over my words. "The way he walks?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "He owns the room when he walks in. It's sexy."

"So you're attracted to power," he pointed a fry at me.

"Perhaps." I shrugged and stole the fry he had pointed at me, earning a scowl from him. "What are you attracted to?"

He really thought on this, more seriously than I had ever seen him, as if the answer was vital to the rest of his life. Then he met my eyes with a sudden intensity.

"Kindness," he said. "And laughter."

Well.

As I looked at him I remembered Helene; she was kind and seldom laughed but when she did laugh, she was very pretty. She was the delicate sort, petite with slight curves, soft black hair and pale skin. Kinda like Victor himself.

"Helene was always very kind," I ventured and he paused giving me a knowing look.

"I'm not talking about it, Becka," he said.

I did a 'didn't say anything' motion with my hands. We were done eating and I saw that he took out a cloth handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped at his nose. I paused and stared at him.

"What is that?"

He looked at his kerchief and then at me. "My handkerchief."

I let out a chuckle. "What?"

"It's a -"

"I know what it is, why do you have one?"

He looked, once more, self-conscious. "I like using these."

I noticed an M was embroidered on a corner in an elegant blue thread. He was full of surprises. I shook my head and picked up the tray.

"C'mon, old man," I said and he followed, dumping our trash.

When I slid back into the hot leather seats of his car, looking around at how clean it was, coupled with his little old school handkerchief I was somehow seeing who exactly Victor was behind the smoke and mirrors. He was not that bad, I decided. A little uptight but that carefree jock persona he had worn in High School seemed more and more a façade. Watching him slide into the car I wondered if anyone, at all, knew who Victor Manning really was.

Recommended 90s Playlist (will grow with each chapter)

1. Gettin' Jiggy With It - Will Smith

2. Kiss The Rain - Billie Myers

3. Come Baby Come - K7

4. Tubthumping - Chumbawamba

5. Bitch - Meredith Brooks

6. Something to Talk About - Bonnie Raitt

7. WannaBe - Spice Girls

8. Miami - Will Smith

9. Ghetto Supastar - Pras

10. All Cried Out - Allure

11. The Way - Fastball

12. Walkin' on the Sun - Smash Mouth

13. Can't Get Enough of You Baby - Smash Mouth