Hey guys. So, here it is. Here is my chance. One thing that SHOULD be noted... Now that I'm in college, I no longer share my over-idealized ideas about love, or guys. I've got a lot more guy friends than I did before. This is going to be reflected in both Duke's characterization and his language. I may drop an f-bomb here or there, or other swear words. Please don't flame me for it—I've really found that this is how guys think and talk.

That being said, I'm not entirely pleased with my characterization of Duke to this point. I'll probably go back and do some editing on earlier chapters, because really... I don't know, it just doesn't seem to fit. I'm trying to rectify it now.

I know I should be rejoicing right now. This was the first time in my entire dating history that I had ever been comfortable talking to a girl. Honestly, it felt just like talking to Sebastian in our room. Okay, granted, perhaps not exactly like talking to him. For one thing, I was trying really hard to not be attracted to her. My fingers kind of tingled, and my stomach was kind of in knots... except not. It's impossible to describe. I still felt functional, I guess, which has never happened when I talked to a girl before.

But if I'm being honest, instead of being fricken over the moon that I was able to actually talk to her, all I was feeling was more and more pissed off. I couldn't understand how she could sit here, being so sweet, playing so fucking innocent. Like she wasn't planning on going back to our dorm tonight, getting any information she possibly could about how nervous I was, how gorgeous I found her, whatever the hell she was getting off on by being here with me right now.

And I wasn't just pissed at her—I was pissed at myself for actually responding to it.

"So, Duke, are you looking at colleges or anything yet?" She smiled, and my stomach did this weird-ass flippy thing. I didn't like it at all. See, when she talked, my body definitely reacted physically, but not in the 'Hi, I'm Duke and I'm a bumbling idiot' kind of way it did with Olivia. I could maintain some composure. I wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad thing.

College. This, at least, was safe-conversation territory. "Well," I began. "I'm mostly looking at schools that could potentially give me a scholarship. If I'm being honest, it would be kind of a dream to play at UNC, but who knows, right?"

Viola's face lit up at the mention of U of C, I noticed. "As in Carolina?" she asked brightly.

I nodded, "Yup, I always kinda wanted to be a Ram." I laughed, more so out of nervousness, considering nothing really humorous had been said.

"That's... me too," she admitted, her smile still wide. "But," her smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared, "our girl's team just got cut at Cornwall, so when school starts up again, I won't have a team. No way I'm gonna get a scholarship if I'm not playing, ya know?"

That was... unexpected. I looked at her across the table, and if I'm being honest, I wanted to hold her hand. Or something. She just looked... sad. Unsure, maybe. I wanted to ask what her plans were once (I guess, IF) Sebastian decided to resume his proper spot at Illyria.

I also briefly wondered if they were identical, and if my new roommate would look like the man-boy that Viola did when she was all dressed up.

And then, like an idiot, I realized I had been silent for a little bit longer than was acceptable after an admission like the one she'd just made. "Oh, wow, Viola, I'm sorry. You could always try-out as a walk-on, right?"

She frowned, her frustration evident. "You don't get a scholarship for being a walk-on. And let's face it, UNC is too expensive out-of-state without a scholarship. Anyway, it's not something I want to think about before school even starts—I shouldn't have mentioned it. Where is our waitress, anyway?"

I found myself being both annoyed and slightly endeared to her dismissal of the subject. On the one hand, she listens to me pour my heart out to her all the time—how is it even remotely fair that the second that she starts to, I get shut down? But on the other hand, her absolute failure at an attempt to change the subject smoothly was both comical and adorable.

Except not adorable. Because I don't think she's adorable. Because she's a liar. Right?

Then why do I still want to kiss her?

My head hurts.

I needed to get her to talk about Sebastian more. That was why we were here. My hormones needed to take a hike. Taking the obvious escape route from the conversation, I motioned to Petey that we were ready to order, so he could send the waitress our way.

To be honest, I was really appreciative that we actually got to the "ordering" step in the date—considering how last time went with Olivia and all. We got a pizza to split, though she insisted that half of it have avocado and sun dried tomato on it, which I found kind of gross to think about. So we had a pepperoni, avocado, and sun-dried tomato pizza on the way. I guess this girl could make just about every aspect of my life interesting.

After we ordered, we both were kind of quiet—apparently lost in our own thoughts. If I was being honest with myself, I was definitely attracted to her. It was odd—without the wig and the boyish clothes that covered her figure, she really was gorgeous. It was definitely refreshing to... ahem... see her in something a bit lower cut. But I was still torn, knowing that the entire premise of our friendship was so... false. I didn't know how to reconcile the Viola that was in front of me with the one I've known for weeks. I wanted to kiss her again. I wanted to tell her that I knew. I wanted—my stomach growled loudly—pizza. The noise obviously pulled her out of her own thoughts as well, as she giggled.

"Hungry?" she asked cheerily.

"Starved," I admitted. She laughed at that, and I decided I loved the sound. I liked that she didn't seem so reserved around me right now—like when she was "Sebastian" she had this wall up. I could still see her personality shine through her male persona, but it was obvious that she had to be more careful. Here, the only thing she seemed afraid of was letting on all that she knew. She seemed much more relaxed, and I definitely liked it.

Maybe... maybe this could work. I liked a girl, maybe, and she liked me, I'm pretty sure, and we were here, and we could have a nice time, mostly without even much effort.

"So, are you actually going to make me try that monstrosity of a pizza you ordered?" I teased.

Viola grinned widely. "Well, of course. How else am I going to get you to trust me? It's delicious."

And then the resolve I had just internally built up crumbled a bit at the "t" word. Trust. I can't trust her. Not now, not until she comes clean with me herself, if that ever even happens. I began questioning her motives again. Was this all some kind of joke to her, was she maybe just doing this to psyche me out so that I would play badly and she could have my spot on the team or something?

I didn't understand, and I didn't know what to feel. One second, I'm thinking about how gorgeous her eyes are, 'cause they have these little brown specs flaked in with the green and then the next—"Duke?" she asked, interrupting my thoughts. "You okay? You got really quiet for a second."

Hm. I found it interesting that we both knew the difference between a comfortable silence, like the one we'd experienced moments earlier, and the tense one that had settled after that sentence. "Yeah, I'm fine," I said, putting on a smile.

She only gave a half smile back, and said, "You really don't have to try the pizza—I was just joking. It's really up to you and it won't phase me either way."

I kind of laughed. She thought I was throwing a brat-attack over some pizza toppings? "No way," I laughed, resolving to shove these thoughts out of my head for a later time when she wasn't sitting here in front of me. "I can't knock it till I try it—but then you're gonna be in for it, once I tell you how nasty it is."

She grinned, and was only able to throw in a, "You're on," before our waitress returned with our pizza. As she set it down on the table, I eyed it suspiciously, while Viola laughed gleefully.

I decided I liked the sound of her laugh.

"So?" She asked, in a manner that was obviously offering a challenge. "What do you say Mr. Hot-Shot? You too scared to try the icky green stuff on the pizza?"

"Taunts don't faze me, sweetheart," I said with mock-arrogance.

I made a big show of taking the slice off of the platter, and was about to take the teeniest bite ever when she stopped me. "Ah, ah, ah, little bites don't count," she laughed. I felt the corner of my mouth turn up, and I decided I wanted to find more ways to evoke that sound. I continued to make a big showing of trying this pizza—playing it up like I was some fancy wine taster, or something. I swirled the pizza under my nose, inhaling the aroma like one would at some fancy alcohol party at Martha's Vineyard or something, and she laughed harder. I had to admit, it didn't smell to bad. Taking the sound of her laughter as encouragement, I took a cautious bite.

Chewing slowly, I suddenly felt nervous—more nervous than I had the whole lunch—as I noticed her staring at me intently. It kind of freaked me out, and I was hoping that I didn't have pizza on my face, and that my outfit wasn't clashing with the wallpaper (where the hell did THAT come from?), when I stopped chewing.

She looked uneasy, though in a joking manner. "Well?" she asked solemnly.

I chewed slowly and swallowed. "Well..." I said. "It was... interesting."

"You hated it?" She asked, sounding perhaps a little disappointed.

"Surprisingly... no," I admitted.

She grinned, and said, "Well, I hope you don't like it enough to steal too many pieces—stick to your pepperoni, Mr. Closed-Minded!" She laughed again, and at that moment I decided it may have been my favorite sound in the world. Olivia never laughed with me.

Olivia never lied to you either, my brain shot back. As if there were an angel and a devil on my shoulder, another part of my brain shot back, You don't know that for sure.

Ugh. Dear brain, I thought I'd resolved to shut you up for the remainder of this date, until I could think alone. Shut the fuck up. Thanks, Duke.

I smiled at her. "We'll see about that." As I continued eating this strange mix of the creamy avocado and the tangy sun-dried tomato, I watched as she took her first bite. She took a bite, closed her eyes, and let out a very quiet, "Mmmmmm."

I chuckled, and her eyes popped open. "Haha, whoops," she said, her cheeks flushing slightly.

"It was cute," I reassured her. She smiled, and I smiled back.

Conversation after the food came was sparse, though not in an uncomfortable way. We ate our pizza quietly, occasionally making small talk. When we got the check, I noticed she had begun to reach for her wallet, when I quickly snatched the check.

"Nope, I got it," I smiled. I considered it payback for stealing her tampons for my nose-blee—Oh my god. NO ONE ACTUALLY USED TAMPONS FOR THAT. Obviously she would need them for... she's a girl and all... oh god. Wow, I'm definitely an idiot. I shook it off, disgusted with myself, though still hell-bent on my resolve to not think about what purpose this served or how I felt about her until I was alone.

"Well, thank you," she smiled, and I noticed how white her teeth were. She was really subtly gorgeous, ya know?

God, shake it off bro. Tampons. And Liars. AND TAMPONS.

I paid, and then stood up, offering my hand to help her out of her chair. I could still be a gentleman, like my parents taught me, even if I had no idea what the heck was going on in my head.

She turned to me and said, "This was really fun. Hopefully we can do it again?"

Suddenly, normal Duke returned, and I felt my cheeks heat up, and I got a bit tongue-tied. Everything else went out the window momentarily because this beautiful, confusing girl wanted to see me again. As a girl. Go figure.

"Yeah, I'll call you," I said, when I finally found my voice.

She smiled, and we walked out into the parking lot. Turning towards me, she leaned in and kissed me on the fricken cheek. Pulling away, she turned quickly and walked to her car. "Uh, bye," I called out awkwardly.

She turned, flashing her brilliant smile, and waved.

My cheek burned where her lips had been. I was so screwed.

Okay, this is a longer chapter for me, and hopefully enough to tide you over. It's not quite a filler, because we're beginning to see Duke being torn over his feelings of confusion, anger, and attraction, and also I just needed to try something to get me pulled back in. Let me know what you think, since I am just starting back up. I'm almost like a new writer again! Do you like Duke's new characterization? He's not as sweet and naïve as he maybe was before.

How are you guys feeling about sticking with me? Are you still in, after this? If not, let me know, and I won't waste my timeee! Also, this was kinda unedited, cuz I just wanted to get it up. Sorry for mistakes!

-M.