This week I chose prompt A: write whatever you want. This story was inspired by Ume who challenged me to write a version of “Sweat Drops the Size of Quarters” but from the girl’s point-of-view. I have never written from a woman’s perspective before, so here goes nothing or something.

 Eyes that can Melt You or Something

   “Flo’!” Lisa shouted at me from like thirty feet away on the grassy knoll near our University’s fountain so that everyone could HEAR. SEE. AND UNDERSTAND. Everyone except me of course. Lisa and I were doing Jump ‘N Pose for our Facebook page. Jump ‘N Pose is like when, you know, you jump in the air and strike a pose like you’re some kind of dance diva or something, but you make like a silly face and let your hair go all wild as you jump, and your friend takes your picture while you are in midair so it becomes like some kind of ironic statement or something.

   Anyway it was hot. Really hot. It was like 1000 freaking degrees hot or something like that. I was leaping in the air when Lisa yelled “Flo’!” as she pointed at my shorts. I landed and realized what she was shouting about and said, “OMG!” I grabbed my messenger bag that says, “I am Chaos” which I bought at the Peace Love World store in South Miami and ran to the girl’s gym locker which T.G.I.F. is nearby.

   As a full-time student, I can use my locker all year ‘round, even during the summer sessions, so I rushed to it and opened it. Quickly I stripped, grabbed my body wash and wrapped a towel around me. I also took the white shorts I was wearing and headed to the semi-private shower stalls. Once inside the stall, I turned the water on hot and washed myself from head-to-toe. After I felt zest-fully clean, I grabbed my shorts, and hand-washed it right in the stall. I know…it sounds gross, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

   I stepped out of the shower and went back to my locker. I dried off, put on a new pad, and clean undies, and my t-shirt from the Peace Love World store that says, “I am Love” (It’s my favorite store, this month. Can’t you tell?) Anyways, TGIF, for planning ahead. Next, I proceeded to dry my shorts since they were the only ones I had. I grabbed my hairdryer, plugged it into a nearby outlet, and went at it.

   They dried fairly quickly, but it felt like hours especially since all these sports scholarship girls kept coming in and smirking when they realized why I was drying my shorts with a handheld hairdryer in the girls’ locker room. Even those anorexic dance majors who haven’t had a period in years because they are so freakishly skinny gave me the mildly, amused arched eyebrow look. Need I say it was humiliating?

   The shorts dried, but you could still see the stain. At least now it looked more like an impression of what had happened than a red-blooded declaration. Like one of those presence-of-absence (or is it absence of presence?) things the philosophy professors talk about.

   Anyways, I couldn’t go to class looking like this. Especially, since my 6:00 p.m. class was my Creative Writing class and that guy was going to be there, and he was going to sit next to me. He was older than me and by older I mean much older than me by at least twenty years. But he was hot.

   He was good-looking in that George Clooney kind of way: rugged, self-assured, built tight, dark hair, and hazel eyes that can melt you like the Green Lantern’s ring or something. All the girls in my class were hot for him. Even the professor, the “Queen of Frost” was crushing on him. I could tell. It was the way she twirled her hair with her fingers whenever he approached her after class. But he was like totally mine, at least in the sense that he sat next to me, and only talked to me during breaks.

   And I liked the way he talked to me too. He didn’t talk to me like I was a kid or like he was trying to hit on me. It was like I was his equal or something. He looked like a heartbreaker, but he turned us all to mush the night he read his poem in class about the loss of his wife and daughter. Even the Goth chick that sat to his right got all choked up. But I digress.

   So there I was with these period-pink dyed, white shorts and no way to conceal them. I noticed a sweatshirt jacket that belonged to one of those dancing fools. I knew it belong to them because it had the school logo on it and it had “DANCE!”  written on it like it meant something. How pathetic! I mean you don’t see the biology majors wearing shirts that say, “FROG!” on it. So I grabbed the sweatshirt, wrapped it around the front of my waist and headed to class like I was some fashion fugitive or something.

   Oh yeah … did I mention that I had lost my bra during the whole process?

"Eyes that can Melt You or Something" by Trudge164 © 2011