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past.
    Soon we were having cake and morning coffee. I opted for a Diet Dr. Pepper instead. Let me clarify instead of the coffee. I had my fair share of the cake.
    With one last apology for shouting at them, I added, “Thanks so very much for remembering my birthday. I thought with being new and all no one would even know it was my birthday.”
    “So why did you change schools?” asked a K.
    She caught me with a mouth full of cake and I choked. For the first time ever I was glad to have something caught in my throat as it got me out of explaining what I wasn’t sure I could. That was until I feared that Rachel had decided to do an emergency tracheotomy with our cookie dough butcher knife. Fortunately, I quit coughing before she actually tried.
    The volleyball girls began to make noises about having to go. I felt bad that they had gone to the trouble of helping to plan my surprise party and I was still thinking of them as an entity rather than individuals. Project for that week was to learn all their names.
    “We want to give you our presents before we go,” said the short brunette one. I think her name was Pam. Or was it Paula. No, I think it was Pat. I was at least sure it started with a P.
    “Brenna, that’s a great idea,” Rachel replied.
    Yep, I had some name cramming to do.
    With that everyone began revealing gift bags. Identical gift bags. Pink striped gift bags.
    “Olivia thought you might could use these,” said one of the K’s.
    With that it dawned on me where all the pink, striped gift bags came from. I took the first and pulled out the skimpiest thong panties I had ever held. By the time I had opened all the bags I had a nice pile of the sexiest underwear ever and my face was pinker than all the little bags put together.
    “Welcome to adulthood, Lottie Lambert,” Olivia declared. “No more granny panties for you.”

 
     
     
                 
    -8-
    Not The Perfect Way to Meet A Guy
     
    Entering the cafeteria, my thoughts were everywhere. I was wondering if people could tell I was no longer a teenager. Did I look different? I had practically gotten whiplash over the last few days making sudden stops at every mirror I passed to study my face to see if there was any change. So far none detected. Was I more mature? I had handled the thong barrage better than I usually did when I was embarrassed. I wasn’t sure if they had been laughing at me or with me about the panty fiasco. But I decided to let it go and laugh along. That was something I hadn’t been able to do when I was nineteen. Did I feel different? Not really, except for thong underwear. That definitely took some getting used to.
    It was Spaghetti Day in the café. That’s a good thing. College cafeterias are not known for their haute cuisine . But spaghetti was one food few could ruin. I took a big helping and added a Diet Dr. Pepper to counteract the carbs. Life seemed to be looking up. I finally felt old enough for college. I was making friends and feeling confident. Stina was waving at me from across the crowded room. She had a seat at her table and was pointing at it indicating I should come sit with her. I know it sounds so juvenile, so middle school, but even adults need to feel included and be at the “popular” table once in awhile in life.
    I started weaving my way across the crowded room, looking toward my goal, when something amazing caught the corner of my vision. It was Mr. Gorgeous Of The Granny Panty Fiasco again. Close up he was more fantastic looking than I would have thought humanly possible. Then the most miraculous moment happened. He looked up. Our eyes met. My heart stopped. Maybe there really was such a thing as love at first sight. Okay actually fourth sight, but first time to ever make true eye contact. His picking my panties from a tree or seeing me dissed by Olivia weren’t significantly adequate encounters to generate true love at first sight reactions. And my hiding behind statues and across the lawn