Campion Theriault sat and watched as the wedding guests danced to the swing song the band played. He loved to dance, danced with several of the single bridesmaids, even with relatives, but decided to sit out a few songs to, as he told a disappointed aunt, "relax and catch my breath." That excuse was a lie. He didn't need to catch his breath or relax: he was a Division I college soccer athlete. He just wanted a drink, something alcoholic, to calm his nerves. He thought he saw a former college girlfriend, Stephanie Marchinski.
The two met the first time he stepped on campus for soccer practice. Though she majored in English, she worked for the college's Sports Information Department as a paid student assistant, someone that took photos of student-athletes and wrote their profiles for use by local and national media. Though she was two years his senior, they began an almost instant passionate and sexual relationship, something they never hid from his coaches or the SID officials, something that wasn't frowned upon either.
The relationship lasted for her final two years at the school, plus another while she worked on her Masters and worked part-time in the local minor league hockey team's media and public relations department. It ended on a warm June day, a week after she accepted a high paying job with the hockey team's parent company. It took a week from Campion to come out of doldrums, but once he did, he went full-throttle in trying to forget Stephanie.
That was a year before, and he thought she was out of his mind. When he saw Stephanie's doppelganger, his heart sank. He thought she was back, looking for him, wanting him back in her life. It was as he ended a line dance with several single women, Campion noticed that this woman though had her looks, stature, and curves, the hair was wrong: it was the same long length and color Stephanie had when they first met, a mix of her natural chestnut and sun-bleached strands.
He finished the last of the amber-colored liquor and looked back to where she stood. She was gone. Campion stood and before walking to the bar for a refill, scanned the room, hoping to see the Stephanie twin. He sighed heavily: She was not in the hall. He bowed his head and took a few steps before walking into someone.
"I'm sorry," he apologized.
"No, the fault was all mine," a familiar-sounding female voice said.
He looked up and gasped: This woman had the same eyes as Stephanie. Gathering himself, Campion spoke, "No, if I hadn't been looking down, I would have seen you." She went to speak, but he interrupted. "Pardon, and this might sound creepy, but you look like someone I used to know."
She giggled and looked away. "I've heard that before," she whispered. She smiled and took his elbow. "My name's Rebecca," she told him. She led him to the bar. "Let's refresh your drink first then let's talk."
"Mine's Campion," he added quickly.
"What an unusual name. It sounds like it should be a literary character's name. Do you know why you were given such a name?"
"Yes I do, as a matter of fact." They reached the bar, he ordered a Pepsi, she a red wine.
Rebecca turned and asked, "How come you're not having a drink?"
He chuckled, "Because I've hit my limit." When they reached his table, he pulled out a chair for her to sit.
"Such a gentleman," she demurred. "I've not run into many men that would know to do this."
"It goes with the name," Campion added. He took his seat and looked at her more closely. He noticed that her eyes were a different shade than Stephanie's, a lighter shade of brown. He also noticed that, though she had Stephanie's facial and eye shape, Rebecca's jaw jutted slightly more.
She took a sip of her wine and looked at him, deep into his eyes. She smiled, seeing him begin to blush, and grabbed for his hand. "So Campion, tell me how you came to having the name."
He caught himself, stopped looking at her ample cleavage. He looked away for a moment and composed himself. "It's not that interesting a story, actually. My mom attended a Catholic school and found the name of one, St. Edmund Campion, lovely. Well, just the Campion part."
She laughed politely and tightened her grasp on his hand. "That's a good story."
He felt something when she tightened her grip, the same electric charge that coursed through his body whenever Stephanie touched him. For a moment, his mind flashed back to their last time in bed, a day before Stephanie broke off their relationship. A devilish smirk came to his face as he remembered her warm lips on his growing penis.
"I wish I could be in your mind right now," Rebecca said.
Campion eyes widened. "No, I don't believe so."
"I bet I do." She leaned into him and whispered. "I think you were thinking of someone special and not in a so special way."
He felt his heartbeat pound, felt it want to leap out of his chest. Some sweat appeared on his brow and on his palms. He breathed in short breaths.
"Are you okay?" she asked. She looked at him again, this time with an expression that said to him, "Tell me, I want to know how dirty your thoughts are."
Campion swallowed hard and opened his mouth to speak, but halted. He wanted to ask her to accompany him back to his room, to have passionate sex, because he felt a "vibe" from her. He knew it was wrong to be so presumptuous and let it die before it hit his lips.
Rebecca's smile left her. She furrowed her brow and tilted her head slightly. "Did you have something you wanted to ask me? You can ask me anything you want."
Campion finished his Pepsi and looked wide-eyed at Stephanie's twin. He took a deep breath and spoke, "I know this is very presumptuous and I can completely understand if you slap my face, but I have a room upstairs, but would you like to accompany me back to my room and talk some more?"
Without missing a beat, the woman answered. "I would love to." Rebecca stood and held out her hand. "Lead the way."
Neither spoke as they ascended in the elevator, just held hands and looked forward. His breathing surprisingly leveled off, no longer was it labored. The sweat that once soaked his brow was gone. His hands were not clammy. Most importantly, he felt calm and excited, as if being with Rebecca was natural, like he was with Stephanie again. He looked over at her and smiled inwardly. Rebecca had the same size breasts as his former lover; at least, that's what they appeared to be.
"Like what you see?" she asked.
Campion blushed. "What, what do you mean?" he fumbled.
"I saw you checking me out." She inhaled deeply and held the breath, causing her rather large chest to expand more.
He couldn't say a word: she was Stephanie's twin and he lusted after her. He nodded slowly.
"Good," she whispered. "I like what I see of you."
Campion, dumbfounded, stood silently and stared at her. For a moment, he swore she was Stephanie, from the look of her hair to the perfume she used. He felt his stomach fill with butterflies. He felt like the first time the two walked back to her apartment: The nervous anticipation of seeing her naked for the first time coursed through his body.
The elevator reached his floor, both breathed deeply as they exited. "It is right here, room 611," Campion said. He reached into his pants and removed the room key. He opened the door and allowed her to walk in first. His eyes followed her curves down to her bottom. Again, he saw Stephanie and not this stranger.
She stopped and turned. "Wait until you see it without clothing. It's more spectacular."
