Encounters

Judge me if you must, but I am the type of girl who likes to keep a boy in every port.
I like to have one, maybe two on the 'school run' to perk up my mornings and make the prospect of two hours of Advanced Mathematics on a Monday afternoon all the more bearable. A couple in the local shopping district- particularly if they give me discounts. One on each bus route, in case I get stuck long-haul on my lonesome. I like to find one within the first hour of entering a club, so at least I have a chance of being kissed. I also keep a few on the party circuit, so I always have someone to flirt with and/or cosy up to if I get cold at 3 am.
It's not how it sounds, though- with the exception of the clubbing boys, the chances of me ever getting with my marks are slim-to-none. They're just fun to look at- a little thrill to keep me going through the mundanity of college. And I never tell the boys that they're target practice, more than potential dates- the secrecy makes the thrill all the more intense.
And the ones that notice me back? Well, nothing compares to look on their faces when I walk into a room; seeing the redness that tinges their cheeks as I give them the once-over. The way their eyes follow me around the room- the sensation I get when I know their eyes on my back. These little moments of stolen intimacy- the furtive glances, the comments laced with suggestion- are the little secrets we carry with us.
I sometimes wonder what they're thinking- what they're doing at that exact moment in time, who their friends are, how they escape from the world.
Boys, boys, boys- out of all of the little escapes-the films, the music, the art, the writing, the addictive little computer games- boys are easily my favorite.
My friends spend most of their time on the phone, wailing hysterically about their careless, heartless, useless loves. Sitting on the other end of these same old telephone conversations is oh-so much easier when I'm anticipating seeing a certain boy . I do have my favorites- one in particualr who looks at me like he's ever seen anyone quite like me before. He gives me butterflies every single time. I know that getting attached to one boy is bad for business (as it were)- it'll be a while before I'm flouncing back on the sofa, crying about how this boy is making the same old mistakes.
As it stands, such chance encoutners are no-strings-attached fun without the slutty reputation.