Her face showed unrestrained fury, she was yelling at me at the top of her voice. She slapped me. Hard. I saw stars.
She turned and walked out the door slamming it hard behind her. I was stunned, frozen in place. My mind raced to find a reason for the outburst and could find none. Then it got weird.
The door flew open and she came at me. I braced myself for another attack. She was crying.
Her hands went to my head and I flinched. She pulled my head to her face and kissed me. It was a ferocious kiss that took my breath away. My body relaxed before my brain did, my arms had encircled her waist, and my lips were returning the kiss, but my brain still expected another hard blow.
She broke the kiss and hissed at me, "You are an idiot!" then kissed me again.
Her name was Marlena. She had occupied the center of my universe for years. She was right, I was an idiot; I should have known I might have become important to her too.
I had spent years being the best friend she had, treating her like a proper gentleman treats a fine lady, trying very hard to keep her from seeing how deeply in love I was with her. She had gotten so frustrated by my proper behavior she tried to knock my head off.
We had just belatedly celebrated our nineteenth birthdays which were two weeks apart, (she was the older one), and had started our senior year at the university. We had been celebrated as prodigies because we had graduated from high school before we were sixteen.
Our respective teenage years were very difficult, as in essence we had no peers. We did not know each other until we were paired as partners in freshman Biology lab at the university.
We had both bristled at the pairing of the "two freaks" and that led to a mutual dislike. That faded quickly as we saw that we dispatched every lab quickly and efficiently and made straight A's on each one. The very people that sneered at us at the start inundated each of us with requests for assistance. I always helped, she seldom did. She never forgave the slights of others.
Through our sophomore year we shared at least two classes and we studied together often. We lived apart from the student body in private homes affiliated with the university. Our houses were one block apart.
The walk from her house to mine became very familiar. We were each other's best friend, in fact we were each others only friend. Somewhere during that time I fell in love with her. I would not fully realize that for a long time.
Our junior year was difficult for me. We did not have a single class in common. She had started on her path towards a degree in psychology and I started mine towards astronomy and aerospace engineering. It took me a while to come up with a somewhat reasonable excuse to see her.
The solution was Italian food. We both loved the food and the ambience of a small Italian restaurant near the campus. The clientele was older; we saw some of our professors there at times but we seldom saw students except for couples on a date. Some of those were gay or lesbian couples but they were very much at ease there.
Mrs. Satriani, the owner and chief cook, loved everyone and treated all customers as long lost relatives. She had taken us under her wing from our first trip there and we enjoyed the special treatment.
School had been in session for two weeks during our junior year before we made it to Satriani's. We were lovingly berated for waiting so long before making our first appearance of the fall. She had worried that we had not returned to school.
As we settled into our meal Mrs. Satriani hovered over us and continually commented on how we had grown, how tall and handsome I was, how beautiful and sexy Marlena had become.
I knew I was taller; I was now over six feet tall and no longer looked any different from the other college students. My mother thought I was handsome but I discounted that as prejudice on her part. I decided to discount it from Mrs. Satriani for the same reason.
Marlena and I had talked to each other on the phone several times during the summer but had not seen each other. To her eyes I had grown three inches taller while to my eyes she had grown very fine breasts. We noted the changes in each other with shyness.
I knew Marlena was beautiful from the first day I saw her. I had not realized she was also sexy until Mrs. Satriani pointed it out. I found myself having great difficulty keeping my eyes off her newly added cleavage.
We stayed at the restaurant until it was closing time. We had been there for almost three hours and yet it seemed like only twenty minutes had passed. We were flattered by the fact that Mrs. Satriani and her staff now treated us as adults.
A promise was extracted from us to come to the restaurant every Friday for the rest of our lives, a permanent date for Marlena and me. I was embarrassed by how quickly I had agreed and did not notice how eagerly Marlena accepted the proposal.
As I walked her to her house door that night I gathered every bit of courage I had and kissed Marlena on the cheek. She allowed my kiss to linger a bit then she gave me a quick kiss on the lips before rushing through her door. Apparently I floated home. I do not remember taking actual steps
We were now old enough to work part time and that prompted Mrs. Satriani to offer Marlena a part time job in her kitchen; she wanted to teach her how to cook. It was just one day a week, (Wednesdays). Marlena jumped at the opportunity.
I was soon recruited as wait staff at Satriani's also for Wednesdays and I now had two days that did not need excuses for me to see Marlena.
We quickly learned the restaurant business was an intense, exhausting business. Marlena and I were intelligent enough to learn the fundamentals quickly so we were in full stride by the middle of our third Wednesday of work. Her only problem in the kitchen was a strong desire to experiment. Mrs. Satriani had a difficult time getting her to realize that the steady customers did not want anything different in their favorite dishes.
She eventually made Marlena an offer she could not refuse. In exchange for her promise not to tamper with the menu items Marlena was allowed to create a new dish to be featured on Wednesdays. This nearly led to my first fistfight.
Marlena would always try to sit with the customers that ordered her dish and ask for reviews after they finished. She mostly managed to keep the reviews of her food from becoming a review of herself personally, but not always.
Mrs. Satriani and I had to loan her our sympathetic ears at times. Most diners were extravagant in their praises and were polite with any criticism.
One diner was abusive. I interrupted his tirade and told him his meal was on the house and it was OK for him to leave. He stood and announced he would leave when he was ready. I told him he was ready now.
He took a swing at me but I managed to catch his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back. I shoved him out the door, turned him around and with a ferocity I did not know I was capable of I asked if there was anything else I could help him with.
He mumbled something about the cops and motioned for his date to follow him. They strode away and I could hear him continue his tirade halfway down the block.
His date turned to him and said something then tried to walk away from him. He grabbed her arm and I heard her tell him to let her go. I was walking towards them before I realized I was. He saw me, released the girl, jumped into his car and pulled out. As he drove by me he gave me the finger while shouting, "Fuck you" then sped away. The girl came to me and said thanks then after kissing my cheek walked away.
My rage dissipated as quickly as it had arrived. By the time I got to the restaurant door the shakes from the withdrawal of the adrenalin had run its course and I was back to my usual amiable self.
