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Arthur hadn’t considered that he’d meet his life mate on his first day of classes at UCLA. He hadn’t even entertained the thought of looking for one; certainly not until he’d graduated. He’d thought he’d play the field in more than just sports; date whomever he wanted, take advantage of being a big name jock at a big name university, and just generally sow as many oats as he could while being an all around excellent baseball player and student athlete. UCLA hadn’t had a baseball All-America player since 1998; Arthur planned on changing that statistic. It just hadn’t fit into his plans to slip into a relationship so quickly. Plans can change, though.
***
It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Arthur thought when he got back to his cramped dorm room. You weren’t supposed to meet your life mate on your first day of classes in your first year in college, were you? He shut the door and threw his backpack on his bed.
“Who meets the person they want to spend the rest of their life with on the first day of class their freshman year?” he said irritably to his roommate Yusuf.
“Apparently you, Arthur Darling,” Yusuf replied without looking up from his book.
“It was a rhetorical question, Yusuf Anwar. And stop being so fucking affable, okay?”
Yusuf laughed, his eyes crinkling as he looked up at Arthur. “And in what class did you meet this future wife of yours?”
“How do you know she’s a she?”
“I’ve known you for two weeks, Arthur, and already I know were you able to marry a man, it would be Dom Cobb so it must be a woman.”
“What?”
“Arthur, please. Allow me to be frank. You have committed the cliché of being in love with your best friend. There’s nothing wrong with that,” he said over Arthur’s spluttering, “unless you actively pretend otherwise, which you have been until now.”
“Okay, well…” He tried again. “Look, it’s not that I—“
“You do not need to explain to me, Arthur.”
“No, I think I do. It’s not that I pretend, as such. It’s just that Dom is all about girls, and, well, I’m not a girl, so that leaves me out of the equation. The choice I had was moon my life away over someone I can’t have or take what I can get and go with that.”
“Noted. Now tell me about the future Mrs. Darling.”
Arthur chuckled. “She’s a junior, her name is Mallorie, she’s French—“
“Not Mallorie Desjardin?”
“You know her?”
“Of course!”
“You don’t get to say “of course”, Yusuf. You’re a Chemistry major and she’s just now taking Chemistry for non-majors as a junior so it’s not like you’re in a bunch of classes together or anything.”
“That’s true. We met on the party circuit back in freshman year.”
“Party circuit. Okay, sure.”
“Never worry, Arthur. As an athlete, you will soon know the party circuit as intimately as I.”
“I can’t take drugs, it’s too risky. Can’t afford to lose my scholarship.”
“Pah,” Yusuf waved his hand, dismissive. “I could mix you a drug that would never be detected by their stupid tests.”
“Talk to me after I graduate, okay?”
They both chuckled as Yusuf went back to his studying and Arthur sat on his bed, reaching for his own books.
*
Arthur was at a library table on the third floor, his Chemistry book open while he wrote down the equations of the assignments to be done, not paying attention to the goings on around him.
“Hello. Arthur, yes? We have Chemistry together?”
He jumped a little, flushing at his ridiculousness as he looked around to see Mallorie Desjardin behind him. Seriously? Of course it would be the woman of his dreams seeing him be a dillweed. “Uh, yeah. Hi. You’re Mallorie, right?”
She waved her hand, regal and dismissive at the same time. “Call me Mal.”
“I’m still Arthur,” he said, wincing and hating himself for the stupidity flying out of his mouth.
Mal laughed, grinning as she grabbed the back of the chair next to his. “May I sit, still Arthur?”
“If you can stand more drivel and ridiculousness, please feel free.” God, he was the opposite of suave.
“I think I can handle it,” she said, sitting down and slinging her bag onto the table. She pulled out her Chemistry book.
“Are you here because you think I look smart? Because I’m pretty sure Chemistry is going to kick my ass, so if you’re here because you think I’m a geek who just knows this stuff by some weird genius instinct, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.” Babble more, Darling. Christ.
“Arthur,” she said, her eyebrows delicately pulling together in a faint frown, “are you trying to sound like a complete twit?”
He snorted. “God, no, I just can’t seem to help myself around you.” Another goddamn blush. And can I say anything else wrong tonight? But to his surprise, Mal was offering him a soft smile.
“Only, I thought we might study together sometimes. Better than alone, yes?”
“I...” he cleared his throat and tried again. “If you want to, that’s fine by me, Mal.” He managed to stop the sentence about statistics showing partners retained more than solo studiers. He’d already made enough of a fool of himself tonight.
“D’accord,” she said, nodding. “But, I meant to say, yes and thank you.”
“I speak French,” he said, smiling for the first time since she’d come over.
“How lovely! You speak French and have beautiful dimples, how lucky can a girl get?”
“You could be hitting up someone who actually knows Chemistry, so, you know, technically, you could get luckier, but if you’re okay with two out of three...”
Mal threw her head back and laughed loudly. “I think you’re fine just as you are, still Arthur.”
Thank you, Mal,” he said, bemused.
She waved him off. “It is nothing.”
Arthur gestured at their books. “Shall we?” At Mal’s nod, he gathered his papers to show her what he’d been doing when she came to him.
*
When Arthur got back to the room, Yusuf was out, but there was note that Dom had called. Arthur couldn’t wait to tell Dom his good fortune, so dug out his cell phone and dialled without a second thought.
“Jesus, Arthur, it’s, like one in the morning,” Dom complained sleepily.
“So? What, are you an old man now, going to bed at ten or some shit?”
“Fuck you, too, Arthur. This had better be good, I’ve got a game tomorrow for fuck’s sake.”
“You’re a catcher, Dom. No one expects you to run for shit. Besides, this is fucking epic. I have met the woman I am going to spend the rest of my life with!”
“Sure you have,” Dom snorted. “Or until the next hot babe throws herself at your feet, right?”
“I will step over anyone who gets between me and Mal.”
“What’s her name? Moll, like a mobster’s girlfriend?”
“Em ay el. She’s French. It’s short for Mallorie.”
“That’s an unfortunate nickname. You realize that ‘mal’ in French is--”
“I’m well aware it means ‘bad’, thank you. So far she’s been nothing but amazing.”
Dom chuckled. “You’ve known her since?”
“Uh. Yesterday?”
“Are you telling me or asking me?”
Arthur bristled at Dom’s distinctly amused voice. “I’m telling you to shut the fuck up for one minute and I’m asking you to let me tell you about Mal.”