"Hey man!" He kept walking, so she hollered louder. "Hey, man!"

He stopped and cocked his head, then turned around and scanned the cafeteria. When he saw her at the table he smiled and went over.

"Hi. How's it going?"

"Pretty good. Sit down and we can whine about English class." She took a big bite of the burger she was eating as he sat down. Her next sentence was lost in the huge mouthful.

He laughed and opened the foil on his own burger. "What the hell did you just say?"

She made a big show of chewing and loudly swallowed. "I said, can you believe what that guy wrote last night?"

It was his turn to mumble through his food and when he realized what he was doing, they both started to laugh. He imitated her grand chewing and swallowing routine and they both laughed again. "Oh, you mean the bit what's-his-name wrote about his grandmother?" She nodded. "Oh, god. I was so embarrassed for him."

She stopped smiling, so he did. "What do you mean embarrassed? I thought it was amazing."

"You're not serious."

"Yeah. I can't believe you didn't like it."

He kept looking at her, waiting for her to smile at the joke. But her face stayed straight. "Oh, man. I... I must just be a Philistine. I thought it was just... I mean, I guess you have to applaud his - what - courage, I guess you could call it."

He was getting ready for more serious backpedaling, when she lost control and started laughing.

"You are such a wuss," she said with conviction.

"A wuss? What's that supposed to mean?'

"You were caving."

"I was not caving."

"Oh, you were caving so fast. Another minute and you would have been nominating that shit for a Pulitzer."

"So you thought it was bad, too."

"Oh my god. It was the worst writing I've ever heard in my life. And to drag his poor grandmother into it. There oughta be a law."

The conversation ebbed for a minute and he'd started looking through his bag for a book when he heard the most infantile straw slurping he'd heard since fourth grade. In seconds they were both slurping so loudly that most of the people in the cafeteria were staring at them until they both broke down into hysterical laughter.

"So, do you eat here every day?" he asked when they'd regained control of themselves.

"I sure do. You?"

"I might start."

"Don't flirt too much, Mr. Married Guy. I did notice your ring."

"My ring, huh? Oh, I'll behave, Miss Single Girl. Or are you not wearing your ring?"

"No ring for me, Mr. Married Guy. And I'll never have one."

"Sounds familiar," he said, and smiled an odd smile she couldn't quite place. "See you tomorrow?"

"I'll be here," she said.

She was sitting at the same table the next day. As he sat down, she laughed and said, "We're linked at the stomach."

"Oh, is that where we're linked?"

"Take it easy, Married Guy. I was talking about our lunch. Yesterday we both had burgers and today we both have chicken."

He took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "Oh, Single Girl. What is the special today?"

"Um, chicken."

"Uh-huh. And yesterday?"

As her response, she threw a french fry at him. It missed badly and landed near a table. The girls at the table were all talking at the same time and none of them noticed the flying food.

"Fine," she said. "I guess we're not linked."

He smiled and added, "At the stomach."

They met every weekday like this for two weeks. Every time she felt his flirting was getting too serious, she would throw the "Married Guy" in his face. Until today, he'd always backed off as soon as she did it.

"You know, Single Girl. I haven't been completely honest with you."

"I'm shocked. I expect nothing but absolute sincerity from flirty married men."

"I'm not married."

Her sandwich stopped halfway to her mouth. Then she laughed as raucously as she could. The cafeteria had gotten used to the two of them, so no one gave her a second look.

"You almost had me there." She saw that he hadn't changed his serious look. "Come on..."

"Really. She changed her mind the morning of the ceremony. Said she couldn't do it." He laughed ironically. "No ring for me," she said.

She put the sandwich down. "Then why the hell do you wear that ring?"

He shrugged. "Scared, I guess. I don't want it to happen again."

"How long?"

"A coupla years."

She sat back in her chair and blew out a deep breath, puffing her cheeks. "So you haven't... for a coupla years?"

"Be real. I just know that a woman who'll take me home while I'm wearing a wedding ring will never expect one in return."

She nodded. "Cynical. Pragmatic. So how many of these women did you eventually tell the truth to?"

"Single Girl, you're the first person I've ever told."

They went to her room on campus and didn't leave until it was time for class. They held hands the whole walk, laughing at the tops of their lungs at each other's jokes.

Just before the class ended, there was a knock on the door, then it was opened by a State Trooper.

"Excuse me. Is there a William Ryan in this class?"

She saw him stand up and heard him say, "That's me. What is it?"

"Your wife and daughter were in a car accident this evening, sir. They're in the hospital."

He picked up his books and walked out of the room without a single backwards look.

Contact rjsimps@macconnect.com

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