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It was Saturday and Hillary saw it as the perfect opportunity to explore New Haven. There was an art museum she wanted to see and as she packed her purse with her wallet, Chapstick, and other knick knacks she listened to May babble on about how amazing her night had been. Her roommate had apparently had a fun filled night with her crush and soon to be boyfriend Chris.
"It was so great Hillary. We danced for the longest time and then we went back to his room to talk, but that's it," She said. Hillary nodded and smiled so her room mate wouldn't feel bad. She herself had returned back to the girls' dorms last night and after taking another hot shower had tried to get some sleep. She hadn't told May about Bill and she didn't plan on it as he was incredibly confusing and she didn't want her room mate's conspiracies to make her more confused. "Where did you go last night?I didn't see you," May asked.
"Oh I was with Scott," she said. It wasn't technically a lie, she had been with Scott for a little bit. "He's very cute, I think he likes you."
Hillary laughed. It's not like she would know she was often rather oblivious with that sort of thing. "I'm going to go to an art museum today, do you want to come?" She asked. She was starting to like May more and more as the girl was always filled with enthusiasm and that was what she needed after the mood swings of Bill.
"Thank you for offering, but Chris and I are going to go watch a movie," May answered. "Hey maybe you could invite Scott and it can be a double date," May added as Hillary was walking out the door. She laughed, after the disaster last night she wasn't taking any of her room mate's advice.

Bill was sitting underneath a tree in the student lounge with a redhead girl he had met this morning sitting on his lap when he saw Hillary. She looked better now that her face was bare and she was wearing a jean jacket and a long flowered skirt despite the temperature being nearly eighty degrees. He watched as she walked to the parking lot and got into a red slugbug car. He heard the roaring of the engine and then heard it sputter no doubt not working since the car did look old. "I'm gonna go now," Bill said to the read head as he untangled her from him and stood up heading in Hillary's direction. He had decided last night that the quicker he won this bet, the sooner he could just move on and forget about her. Now as her car wasn't working this was his perfect opportunity to make more progress.

Hillary sighed in annoyance. Of course her car didn't want to work now that she actually wanted to go somewhere. She got out of the car and jumped when she saw Bill was there. She now associated him with yelling so she braced herself.
"Are you going to tell me to get out of your parking spot or something?" She asked. Bill stood there and then licked his lips and smiled.
"No actually I was going to offer you a ride in my car," he said. She was taken by surprise at his offer and didn't know what to say. She really did want to go to this art museum but was a ride from Bill necessary? After all, she could always just call a cab. Bill seemed to sense what she was thinking.
"I'm giving you a ride. Come on," he said beckoning her forward. Now she was just annoyed at him. First he tripped her, yelled at her, and now he was demanding to give her a ride.
"And what if I don't want you to give me a ride?" She asked. He laughed and it was a real belly laugh. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"What's so funny?" She defensively asked.
"It's just. Look dear, I'm not very nice to a lot of people and now that I'm trying to be you're the one being rude," he said laughing again. Hillary narrowed her eyes at him. He had been incredibly rude to her yesterday but then again also nice towards the end.
"Well whatever which one is your car?" She asked. He pointed to a black classic mustang. Figures, she thought.
"Come on, does that mean you're accepting my offer?" He said as they walked over to his flamboyant vehicle.
"On a few conditions,"'she said, she saw this as an opportunity to question him about his behavior and maybe make peace with him so they could just leave each other alone.
"Name them," Bill said amused.
"You'll answer any questions I have and you'll drive the speed limit," she said as he groaned at the last request.
"Fine. But you'll answer my questions in return or I'm not driving the speed limit," he teased. She pondered that. She decided it was a reasonable agreement as she was already worried about his speeding.
"Fine," she shot back and got into the passenger seat as he unlocked the car.
"So where are we going anyway?" Bill asked as he looked over to see Hillary diligently putting on her seat belt. He rolled his eyes, he didn't wear his seat belt half the time.
"The Fairbrook Art museum," she said. He groaned, he had been there once and he found it to be boring as hell.
"The only art museums I like are the playboy racks at the gas station," he said but started the car and headed in the direction of the museum. He saw from the corner of his eye that Hillary was making a disgusted face and he laughed.
"What you don't like playboy?" He asked. Her face got red.
"No. Stop talking about it, it's gross," she said. He rolled his eyes again and began to speed well over the limit.
"Slow down!" Her high pitched voice protested.
"Answer my question," he said.
"What? I said no, that's an answer," she said in worry as he was hitting nearly sixty five miles per hour when the speed limit was thirty.
"Why don't you like playboy?" He asked and started to hit the brake as there was a red light. He hated red lights, and he hated driving slow.
"I find it sexist. If women want to dress like that and be comfortable with their sexuality that's fine but when that's all men focus on and don't focus on the fact that the women in the magazines are people then that's where I have a problem with it," she said. He laughed again in hysterics. He should have known she would be the intellectual type.
"Okay so when I'm beating my meat you want me to think of the fact that the girl in the photo could be named Jennifer and what- she could work in a hospital?" He sneered. Hillary didn't seem swayed.
"Yes," she said simply and he laughed again. He would have to tell Scott about this later, how were either of them going to possibly nail a girl who thought like this.
"You should put on your seat belt," she said. He ignored her, seat belts were lame, he had never been in a crash or anything like that.
"Okay since you've asked your questions I'm going to ask mine. Why were you so mean to me yesterday then changed your attitude?" She asked. He glanced over at her. She had clipped her bushy hair in a top knot and the loose curly strands were falling over her face making her look really young. He didn't know how to answer her question because the truth was he didn't know the answer himself. He told himself that he was here because of the bet but it made no sense. The redhead he had been with was gorgeous and provocative and definitely would not have blushed at the mention of playboy. So why was he here with a girl who was still so innocent and
inexperienced? The bet, he told himself, it was only because of the bet. He did the only thing he knew how to, go on the defensive.
"I didn't change my attitude, you don't know me!" He said raising his voice but not yet shouting. She looked out the window now and ignored him effortlessly. He hated that! All his life he had mesmerized people yet he couldn't even hold her attention.
"So you're just going to ignore me now?" He asked. She looked at him again and shrugged. "Well I don't like being yelled at and if you're gonna yell at me then I'll ignore you," she said and looked back out the window. He thought about that and smiled, she was using ignoring him as her card just like he was using speeding as his own.
"Okay I won't yell at you," he said in his normal voice. She nodded.
"Then answer my question. What's with the attitude shifts? You say I don't know you and I don't claim to but I'd like to understand why you were mean to me yesterday," she said. He breathed heavy through his nose. So she was trying to understand him? Get inside his head? He chuckled thinking of all the fucked up things she would see in there. No one had ever wanted to understand him before, no one cared about why he acted or thought the way he did, they just accepted it. He glanced over at her big childlike eyes and for a moment considered opening up to her. Then he caught himself. He couldn't. This was only for the bet, the goal was to nail her and move on not to let her in.
"I don't know, must have been my man period," he said and began to driving into the parking lot of the art museum.

"Told you this was boring," Bill told her as he leaned against the wall. She herself was looking at various paintings that were apart of the landscape exhibit. She didn't find them boring, she adored them. The one she was looking at now showed the variations of autumn and was filled with hues ranging from gold to orange.
"It's not boring. They are beautiful come look at this one," she said. He came over to look at the painting.
"You see, here how the orange mixes with the gold and makes it look like light is falling on the leaves? It's not boring at all," she said. Bill however was looking at her strangely in a way she couldn't quite place she cleared her throat and he looked away from her quickly.
"Still boring," he said. She shook her head and made her way to the next exhibit. This exhibit was now one with paintings dedicated to cities in different states. She yelped in excitement at the one of Chicago.
"What?" Bill asked as he had been shadowing her. She was enchanted by the colors and the use of swirls that captured her birth city perfectly.
"Oh it's just I was born in Chicago that's all. I grew up in Illinois actually and have been to the city many times and this painting just captures it," she said although she was sure Bill didn't care and would most likely make some sarcastic comment.
"That's interesting so you're a city girl?" He asked and she was surprised that his voice was genuine.
"I guess you could say that though I don't look or act the part," she said now turning to look at a painting of New York City. Bill looked at the painting as well and for the first time since they got here seemed interested in the art.
"I like how you look," he mumbled and returned to the back wall to lean on it once more. She wasn't sure if she heard him right and she was turning pink at his words, but she turned her back to him so he wouldn't see.

Bill had the impression that Hillary thought he was bored, after all that was what he had said. He was in fact very interested but it wasn't in watching the art, it was in watching her. He liked to see how her face would react after taking in a painting or how her mouth would part open in awe. He hadn't looked at the art much but when she had called him over to look at the variations of autumn he had seen the beauty in the painting he had never noticed before because of her description.
What was starting to shock him more was the fact that he was beginning to find her more attractive by the minute. When she had been describing the painting he had noticed for the first time how full her lips were and how they were a delicate pink like a newborn. Fuck! He was starting to sound like a fucking poet or some shit, he thought. This was insane, if he was attracted to her it was because she was an attractive woman not because he wanted anything more. After all, he had been with scores of women. Still, he found himself wanting to know more about her when she revealed that she had grown up in Illinois. This is why when they were back in his car and he asked her where she wanted to go, he was upset when she said back to the school. Instead he had drove the car into a cheap restaurant that sold burgers despite her protests.
"What are you on some kind of diet?" He asked knowing how many girls worried about their weight.
"No," she replied truthfully shocking him once more.
"Then what's your problem let's go," he said getting out of the car and she followed him. He ordered their food for them as he sent Hillary to sit down somewhere. When he returned with their food he found that she had removed her jean jacket to reveal her pink cami top showing more skin than she had recently. It was still a very modest shirt but he could see her white shoulders and freckles on them. He gulped and looked away and began to eat his burger instead.
"You know this isn't like a date right? Cause I don't date," he said and saw her face fall no doubt embarrassed. He cussed at himself mentally, why had he said that? And more importantly why did he care so much about how his words made her feel? He didn't care before with other women and he had said things far more worse than this.
"Look I know it's not. You're not even my type and you're the one who basically forced me to get a ride from you and you brought me here. I just wanted to go back to my dorm," she said angrily and grabbed her jacket. She got up as she left the restaurant and sat on one of the benches outside. He hadn't wanted her to leave, the whole reason he had brought her here was to talk to her more but like always he had to open his mouth and ruin it. This was all so fucking stupid in his eyes and he was thinking about just calling off the bet all together.

Hillary was incredibly annoyed. She was chastising herself for even accepting a ride from Bill in the first place after the way he had treated her yesterday. So far he had been rude to her and when he wasn't rude he was somewhat nice but it all confused her so much. She thought about how the way he treated her was so different to how Scott treated her. Scott was always nice to her and she wished that she had been more receptive to him instead of Bill. She turned around and saw through the glass window that some pretty strawberry blonde girl had taken her seat in front of Bill and the two seemed to be chatting away happily. She felt her chest get tight and her eyes start to water again. She hated that her tear ducts would always react to when she was angry and she decided to walk to the bus stop she had seen a while back and not wait for Bill. As she walked she thought about what could be so repulsive about her that made him hate her so much? She felt stupid for even entertaining the idea that he might like her seriously. He probably just wanted to mess around and hurt her or he was probably in cahoots with some of her classmates who didn't like her. Whatever the reason, she continued to walk and told herself not to cry.

When he had noticed Hillary was gone he ran out of the restaurant and cursed. He had expected her to wait for him like many women had but he was starting to figure out that she never did what he expected. He got into his car and began to drive up and down the roads searching for her. Again he thought it was strange as to why he cared so damn much.
He at last found her sitting at a bus stop and reading a book she had taken out of her purse. He rolled down the window and when she saw him she groaned in sheer annoyance.
"Go away," she said stuffing her book back into her bag. She stood up and began to walk down the street and he followed her alongside in the car.
"Get in the car. I'm driving you back to your dorm," he said. She rolled her eyes and he hated how it made her look mean. He often rolled his eyes to look mean but the look didn't suite her, her face was too kind for that.
"Get in the fucking car Hillary," he said through gritted teeth. She ignored him again and he hated it. Why was she so difficult? He would have dicked down any other girl by now and the bet would be over but she was impossible.
"Look. I'm sorry I was a jerk back there can you please let me drive you back?" He asked. It was the first time in years he had said the words 'I'm sorry' and he was shocked that he had even said them and more shocked that he had meant them. She at last looked at him and got in the car. After putting on her seat belt, she took off her sandals and rubbed at her blistered feet. He began to drive in the direction of the school and tried to ignore the guilt he felt.
"Will you answer any more of my questions?" He asked. He needed to talk to her he hated the angry silence.
"What do you want to know?" She asked her voice sounded tired. At this point, everything. He wanted to know why she was so resistant to him and didn't seem swooned by his good looks as most people were.
"What was your favorite painting at the museum?" He settled on this question instead. Her lips parted in that way that he was getting accustomed to seeing.
"The one of the lake and the red roses," she answered. He nodded, he had seen her looking at that painting in awe. He didn't understand much about why she would like it, it was just a huge lake with flowers floating on it. They arrived within view of the campus and he drove into the student parking lot. Hillary sighed and grabbed her purse. He could feel it again, that strange feeling of guilt and something else as he got the feeling that she wanted to be as far away from him as possible.
"Wait," he said and she turned to look at him. Of their own accord his fingers began to lightly stroke the skin of her shoulder that was still visible from her camisole. She trembled at his touch, and he loved it.
"I'm sorry," he said again finding that it was becoming easier to say to her. He felt a million emotions stirring with him at once, there was confusion, there was pleasure that he found in touching her skin, and there was guilt for making her feel bad.
"Will you let me make it up to you tomorrow? I'll take you out and I won't yell at you," he said continuing to stroke her shoulder. What the hell was his heart beating fast for? Why did he care if she said no?
"I don't know," she mumbled. He felt disappointed and then anger. He hated the fact that ever since last night she had been making him feel things.
"Please," he whispered. She rubbed her temple and he watched her, she was now the one that had him mesmerized.
"Alright," she said. He started to tell her how he would be here waiting for her tomorrow morning as she finally got out of the car. He was still confused about her and what his feelings for her were becoming but right now all he knew was that he was glad that she had accepted his offer.

Hillary had been glad to find her dorm room empty as she sprawled out on her bed and began to rub her feet. Her head was spinning with thoughts about Bill and she didn't even know why she had accepted his offer. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't because he could be so tender with her sometimes like when he had cleaned her dress or just now in the car as he had been stroking her skin. She was aware that he preferred his women a certain way and she didn't fit that bill and she thought it was even stupider how much that hurt her. It was incredibly stupid that she had been beginning to enjoy his presence and thought of him as maybe even a friend. She tried to put him out of her mind when the telephone in her dorm room began to ring.
"Hello?" She asked not remembering giving out the number to anyone.
"Hey Hillary, it's Scott. I hope you don't mind but I asked your room mate for your telephone number as I never got to see you back at the party and I was worried about you. I was thinking we
could go out tomorrow morning and catch up if that's okay with you," he said. She thought about it. She had already made plans with Bill, but she wanted to move past him as he clearly wasn't good for her. It didn't matter that she liked when he was sweet to her, what good was that if he was just going to turn around and be rude again? No, she wouldn't go on with this.
"Yeah that sounds good. I'll see you then," she said.