Loriot: Intitially posted as a fanfiction, but I loved the premise enough to twist it into my own. :)

Ordinary

Alex Reyes was good looking.

And he knew it.

The girls (and a few guys) at school had quite the range of words to describe him. Handsome. Attractive. Fine. Hott. Sexy. God-like.

His Hispanic heritage served him well – dark hair (black, thick, and smooth. Kept just long enough to run fingers through); a deep complexion (a natural tan that others pay through the nose for); muscles (well-developed and no flab to speak of); deep eyes (chocolate-colored and framed with rather feminine lashes).

He was the guy at school. He was the one that every guy envy and despised. He was the one that every girl wanted to date

Yet somehow Alex remained perpetually single.

It’s not that he didn’t date. He definitely dated. In the loosest sense of the word – he spent time with girls. Restaurants. Movies. “Quality time.”

To be stripped of one’s virginity by Alex Reyes was an honor after all.

Most people at school had been under the impression that he would end up with either Alicia Quinn or Molly Hart – two of the most popular girls at school. Alicia? They’d gone out twice. Once? She was too sugary for his taste. And Molly? Ben Loudin had claimed the sharp-tongued blonde years ago. Not even Alex was willing to attempt to sweep the quarterback’s girl off her feet.

Threatening a guy who had was a veritable giant was never in the best interest on one’s health.

But Alex was never exclusive. He’d never wanted to be.

Then she moved to town.

She was possibly the plainest person Alex had ever come in contact with. Her hair was neither blond nor brunette; neither straight nor curly. Her eyes were neither brown nor green nor murky gray. Even her name was plain: Patricia Foster. But she went by Patsy.

Patsy.

There wasn’t anything special about her. No outstanding talent (average grades, decent violin player, not much else). No outstanding feature (worse yet, she’d pudge. Pudgy legs, pudgy arms, pudgy stomach. Even a pudgy chest! Not perky, but pudgy.). No outstanding story (parents married, one kid brother).

She was painfully ordinary.

But, as with every new girl that moved to town, Alex felt compelled to ask her out for a date. A date.

He followed the same method he’d been using for years. He walked up to Patsy, leaning against the locker next to hers. Alex flashed a flirty smile when Patsy glanced up at him. She’d paused, inspecting him with her (critical) hazel gaze. Taking this as the usual admiration, Alex leaned closer to her, voice husky.

“How about you and I catch a movie Saturday evening? I hear that new thriller movie’s pretty good.” Patsy frowned.

“Thanks, but no.” She simply turned back to her locker and continued to swap books from her bag to her locker and back again. Alex stared at her wordlessly in shock, his mouth hanging open.

Had he just been turned down?

No. No, that wasn’t possible! He was Alex Reyes.

Alex Reyes!

“Erm . . . maybe you didn’t understand my question –”

“Oh, no, I understood just fine. I’m just not interested.” Slamming her locker shut, Patsy gave a slight shrug before walking away. “Have a nice weekend.”

As she walked away, Alex stared, hyperaware that others around him were doing the same thing. He’d been shot down. In public. He swore obscenely under his breath as he kicked the nearby locker. If it was the last thing he did, he would get that . . . that girl to go out with him.

She became his obsession. Weeks in and out, he pressed her each day, completely forgetting there was an entire school full of other available girls. Many much prettier. Many more extraordinary. Many easier (in more than one sense of the word).

He watched her, trying to figure out what interested her, what sort of arguments she gave into. He was determined to get her to agree. Just once. The more he watched her, though, the more he grew to know who she was. He was utterly surprised to find out that she wasn’t as plain as he first thought she was. Sure, she still had the color-confused hair and the murky eyes, but her lips, sweet gods, her lips were fantastic. Full, soft-looking, and glossy, as she always carried a tube of chap-stick in her jean pocket. She wasn’t academically minded nor was she a fantastic violinist, but she could sing. Alto and siren-like, she swept the audience at the talent show away.

She had a relatively even temperament, but was completely frank, and was willing to give anyone a kick in the ass if they needed it.

It certainly seemed as if she believed Alex needed one.

She continued to turn him down. Always polite about it, but making a speedy exit so he couldn’t question her afterwards. She became fast friends with Molly Hart who declared one day that she liked her “spunk.” She was fitting in perfectly.

And Alex was slowly going insane.

Why wouldn’t she say yes?

It was so frustrating! He was so used to getting his way.

One afternoon, he cornered her. It was after school, after all of the other activities had ended. Alex found her exiting the auditorium, a nearly empty water bottle grasped tightly in her hand.

She’s been practicing, Alex thought absently as he approached her. At the sound of his footsteps, Patsy paused, turning her full attention to the young man swiftly approaching her. A frown set in place; she crossed her arms, shifting all of her weight onto one foot. Her eyes widened in slight surprise as he gripped her shoulders. Not painfully, but certainly tightly.

“Why?” he asked, voice quiet in desperation.

“Why what?” she questioned him back, unsure what point he was trying to make.

“Why are you being so difficult!? Any other girl in school would pay to be asked out by me on a regular basis. Why do you keep saying no?” Patsy bit her lip, trying not to laugh. In her eyes, the situation was comical, though she could see that Alex wouldn’t take kindly to being laughed at during this particular moment.

“I would have thought that was obvious, actually.”

“Obvious.”

“Yes.”

“. . . It’s not, though.” He ran a hand through his hair in exasperation.

“You know,” she said simply.

“Know what?”

Patsy frowned, annoyed.

“You know that you’re good looking. That girls fall over their own feet, just to get a glimpse of you. You believe that you can date anyone because of who you are in this school. Though undoubtedly many of the girls in this school that have gone out with you are bimbos, there are some, believe it or not, that have feelings. One date before moving on, Alex? That’s just . . . incredibly heartless. I have no desire to ever consider dating a guy like you.” Patsy paused, considering. “Besides, someone needs to knock that ego of yours down a peg or two. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m sure that my ride is waiting.”

Once again Alex was left to watch her retreating back(side), more frustrated than ever. He was still determined to win her, even if just for a night.

He’d just have to change tactics.