A moth to a flame: Juice and Dita

Dita Tregar was already missing Chicago and her family. She missed the lake effect, the Sears tower, Wrigley Field, Geno's, and the El. It had only been forty-eight hours since she first arrived on Ithaca campus and she wondered why she just didn't go to Columbia. Oh, right...she needed a new experience. She needed to grow.

Now all she wanted was to cower away.

Her roommate was a polar opposite: some rich bitch with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a bad attitude. Dita found every excuse under the sun to avoid her.

Her first class that day was Painting I. It was a gen ed course, but since she was planning on majoring in that field, it seemed appropriate to get it out of the way.

She entered the classroom a little early and found a seat by one of the easels. The few students that were in there were upperclassmen; looking to score an easy credit.

ooc: http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=64160061

Juice loved to paint and had needed a fine art credit, so he found himself in paint I. He watched her as she searched the room for an easel, eventually choosing the one beside his, uncertainty on her face.
He smiled,"You seem new here. My name is Juan Carlos, but most people call me Juice.

Dita looked at him shyly, her green eyes lighting up slightly at the sight of him. This gorgeous guy was talking to her? She smiled a little, holding out her hand, "That obvious? Dita Tregar...but my friends and family call me Dee."

He took her hand and shook it firmly. Her eyes were amazing and she smelled of pears. Sitting back down he started pulling out his supplies.

"Nah, I just have a good eye. How long have ya been here?"

Dita began unpacking her painting tools, "A couple of days...I'm from Chicago."

Her Chicago accent was thick and foreign to everyone around her. She felt like an alien. It was taking her everything not to call her dad and beg him to let her come home.

"Oh yea? I love Chicago! One of my sister's lives there,' he smiled at her.

There was a bowl of fruit they were supposed to paint. He pulled out his paints and examined her small hands. They were slender, beautiful, artist's hands.

Dita frowned at the bowl of fruit, rolling her eyes out of disappointment. She shook her head, and began painting but not that damn bowl of fruit.

Instead, she she started painting a Vargas style pin-up version of herself; someone that she could only wish to be.

He watched her painting take shape. It was absolutely amazing, t he teacher was glaring at her, but he suspected it was because she was more advanced than the teacher himself. Brow furrowed, he stared at his own painting, wishing he had her guts.

"That's fucking amazing, Dee," he spoke.

Dita blushed, "Thanks." She smiled softly and went back to painting until the class period ended. She went over to the sink and cleaned her brushes.

As she cleaned out her brishes, Juice left a note on her bag.

If you nees anything, here is my number.
He had to go clear across campis for his next emt class.

She kept the note by her lsptop for a few days; not sure what to really make of it. Then, around 8 o'clock on a Friday night, she was alone in her dorm; her roommate had went out partying. She went to work on some homework and discovered her laptop was coming back with loads of errors. Remembering hearing him talk to some guy next to them about computers, she took a chance and texted him.

Hey, it's Dita Tregar from painting. I think my computer is screwed up. If you aren't busy or anything this weekend, would you mind looking at it? I live in Tallcot...um, room 232. If you don't want to it's okay...just thought I'd ask.

She closed her laptop and began knitting instead to relieve some of her frustration.

ooc: http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=64189930

Reading her text, he marked his place in his book of poetry by Emmerson. He pulled on his coat and texted her back.


I'll be there in ten

Dita heard a knock at her door and went over to it. She opened the door and smiled at him, "Sorry...I didn't know who to call..."

Even in PJs she looked beautiful

"I was just reading some Emmerson," he replied, "Is this the patient?"

Dita blushed, "I love Emmerson...um, yes....I'm getting tons of errors on it." She let him inside, closing the door behind them. "Do you want anything to drink? I have some apple juice, water, peppermint tea..."

She let him make himself at home, absently making her bed and tidying up.

ooc: Her dorm: http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=64198073

"Peppermint tea would be great," he smiled and went to work on the computer.

It took him about twenty minutes to narrow down the virus, when he did he laughed heartily.

"So, how often does a girl use her laptop for porn?"

Dita looked at him in shock and then back at her screen, "That isn't mine!" She groaned, "That stupid, vapid bitch...I caught my roommate and her stupid boyfriend using my computer when I got home from work last night..." Her cheeks flushed with anger and embarrassment.

His brows furrowed, "You need to set up a password so they can't do that shit anymore. I'll have it fixed in probably half an hour, is that ok?"

Dita frowned, "Um...I don't know how to do that...could you?"

She gave him his tea and sat down next to him, watching with interest. "Thank you for doing this..."

"Oh no problem, I was actually hoping you would call. Your password is myroommateisawhore, by the way," he smiled and sipped his tea, "I'd like to take you out some time, if you're cool with that."

He continued typing, barely looking at the keys. He longed to touch her hair and kiss her pink, lush lips; it was like he was under a spell.

Dita watched his hands, a shy smile on her lips, "Really? Like a date?"

A blush rose in his tan cheeks, "Yea. Like a date."

Sneakily he looked at her out of the corner of his eyes.

Dita smiled softly at his blush, "I'd love that."

He finished up with the laptop and turned to her, "Yea? Really? How about tomorrow?"

Dita smiled, "Okay...I'm pretty much free all day."