So I'm not really into setting casts for my stories, but I was surfing da web and came across Jake Gyllenhaal in Jarhead. If you were wondering, this is how I picture Desmond. More or less.  

Enjoy!

Chapter Twenty 

"Dad! Dad I got in!" 

Saturday morning. Mid-March. The time had finally come. 

I had waited months for this very moment, and eventually some part of me was beginning to think I did something wrong, that I was rejected in less than an instant because of my overt attempt to be an intellectual. Maybe they thought I wasn't enough. Maybe my personal statements were flawed, contradictory, maybe they thought I wouldn't be able to handle their coursework. I was wrong. 

It's a great feeling being accepted. To know you are wanted. 

My dad barged in to my room, breathless but aware of what might be happening. "To where?" 

"UCLA!"  I squealed, and soon enough my dad's face was just as tear stained as my own. 

"I never doubted it for a second." He pulled me into an embrace. "I'm so proud of you."

"I did. I didn't think I'd get in." I said, muffled against his shoulder. 

He pulled away, his puffy eyes smiling down at me. "Congrats, kiddo. So UCLA it is?" 

I blinked. I hadn't really thought about it. I guess I had pushed the thought of decision making towards the end of April. Was I going to stay in Southern California, or was I really going to take a risk and move out far from here?

"Uh-oh. Too soon?" He asked. 

I shrugged. "A little. I guess I haven't thought about it," I sniffed, wiping away the tears from my face. "I've forgotten about the others." 

"I haven't! Can you imagine the look on Jim's face when I tell him my girl's been accepted to USC, Berkeley and UCLA?" He grinned. "The bastard's gonna lose it."

"Dad, please don't brag at work." I pleaded.

"Why not? You're my daughter. I have a fundamental right."

For the first time in a while, I took a good look at my dad. Suddenly he had aged ten years before me. His dark black hair had become so light and disheveled over the years. There were traces of what looked like wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. He wasn't the lively, youthful man he was years ago, and who I could only see in photo albums. Rather he looked tired, aged, quite run down. These past few years had taken such a hard toll on him. I repressed the urge to cry.

"You're mother would be so proud." He said, his eyes brimming with tears. 

I looked down at my shoes. "Yeah," I said, "yeah, I know she would."

"You're just like her in so many ways." He whispered. "She always said you looked more like me, but if she only saw you now."

I chuckled. "I have your hair and  eyes. Give yourself some credit." 

"I know, but you have her nose, her mouth, her chin, her intelligence--everything! I can't take credit for those." He hugged me once again, tighter this time. "I know I don't get the chance to say this very often, but I love you, and there's nothing in the world I'm prouder  of."

"I love you too, dad." I laughed. "This is too cheesy for my own liking, but since this never happens..."

"You'll always be my little Angel." He whispered. 

Rolling my eyes, I pulled back. "Dad, let's not get so emotional yet. It's just an acceptance letter."

"I know, I know," He laughed, "It's just time's gone so fast, ya know? Next thing I know, you're graduating. I'm going to blink and you'll be on your way, bags packed, and off to college." 

"I understand, but we have to save the sappiness for graduation." I said, punching my dad in the chest. "Be a man!"

"Okay, okay. I'll stop. But I get unlimited sappiness when you graduate, okay?"

"Sounds good." I nodded, wiping the wetness from my face.  

"Right. Uh--I was just about to go down to the store and pickup a few things. What do you say to a celebratory breakfast? Waffles and banana pancakes sound good to you?" 

I smiled. "Cant remember the last time we actually had breakfast together. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

The doorbell rang down stairs. "I'll get it." I said to him.

Running down the stairs, I opened the door only to find the two people I wanted to see the least at the moment. Angelica, arm in arm with Desmond, was vibrant and exotic. Her auburn hair had gold, reflective specks that stung my eyes and nearly cause me to shut the door in their faces. Desmond was just as as breathtaking as she was. His eyes matched the sky and complimented Angelica's strawberry hair. 

In essence, they were a power couple. Meant to be together in all forms--physical and spiritual. 

"Knock knock!" Angelica sang. Desmond waved with a smile that made my heart skip a beat.  

"Hey."  I asked, weirded out. "What are you guys doing here?"

My dad came bounding down the stairs, delighted to see my longtime friend. "Angelica! Great to see you," He eyed Desmond. "and who is this?" 

Desmond moved quickly to shake his hand. "Desmond Williams sir, pleasure to meet you." 

My dad shook it firmly, a puzzled look on his face. "Please, call me Jacob. Have we met before?" 

Desmond shook his head, just as puzzled as he was. "I highly doubt it, I just moved here."

"That's funny," My dad said, "Could've sworn I've heard your name before..." He had.

"Well, Desmond, I hope you find your stay worthwhile. Take care of Angelica. She's a good girl."

"Oh, definitely, sir."

"Jacob." He corrected. Desmond's face flushed.

"Right, Jacob."

"Anyways, I'll be on my way. Angel, be courteous. I'll be quick." He said, kissing me on the head.

"Sure thing, dad." I mumbled. 

"See ya, Mr. Gray." Angelica waved. Desmond shook his hand once more. 

"So, what are you guys doing here?" I asked once more, as my dad's engine roared to life.

Angelica cracked a smile. "Oh we just wanted to drop in and say hi. We haven't heard from you since that night. I haven't even seen you around in school."

"Yeah, I got sick," I lied, "I had the worst case of the flu. Hope I didn't give it to either of you."

Desmond shifted awkwardly, rubbing his arm. "You look great, though. Like, healthy...and stuff."

"Yeah, I just needed to rest up a bit." Cleared my throat. "You guys want a water or something? We got cookies if you're feeling up to it. Or you guys could stay for breakfast, my dad won't be long." I was, after all, supposed to be courteous. But that didn't mean I actually wanted them to stay over. 

Desmond smiled. "I'll take a water-"

"Actually, we don't want to be a bother." Angelica said. "We just wanted to check up on you." She turned to Desmond, who nodded. "I think we'll be going now."

I nodded. "That's fine. Thanks for stopping by."

"No problem, we'll be on our way." She said as they turned around, but Desmond whirled around.

"On second thought, can I use your bathroom real quick? Sorry, big man, big bladder." He said quickly, after Angelica's glare. 

"Uh yeah, upstairs. First door on the left I think." I said. 

He brushed past me, sending me a boyish smile that was so unlike his manly demeanor. It took me a moment to realize Desmond Williams was actually in my house. About to use my bathroom. I needed to pinch my arm to get a hold of myself.

"Come in." I ushered Angelica into the kitchen. Angelica lifted herself up on the counter, I was playing with the fruit pyramid on the kitchen island. 

I hesitated. "Can I ask you something?" 

"Anything." She said, swinging her legs absentmindedly. 

"Sorry, I mean, it's not really a question. What I wanna say is that...It's pretty crazy how Desmond showed up. Outta nowhere." I said, fixing the apples on the counter. 

"So it is. Kinda wish it would've happened differently." I couldn't agree more. "If I had known I wouldn't have worn that tragic turtle neck that night." 

"I think we could both agree that you would have looked stunning either way," I said, "It's just that, I don't know, I never even knew he meant that much to you. You never really told me."

"Oh? I didn't think it mattered." 

"I mean, it's just that...you weren't the one that wrote to him, so I just thought..." 

She let out a quiet gasp. "Oh, Angel...don't tell me you actually..." 

Okay, that wasn't the right thing to say. 

"What do you mean?" 

"If I had known...God! I'm such a terrible friend." She pinched the bridge of her nose. 

"What, no I-"

"You have feelings for him, I totally understand..." Abort, abort, abort!

"Angelica, no I don't have feelings for him..."

"If you had only told me before I wouldn't have-"

"Angelica! Stop! I don't like Desmond like that. Luke and I...ring a bell?"

"Are you sure, I mean I could go to him right now and..."

"Luke and I," I emphasized. "Remember?"

"Are you sure?"

"A hundred percent." I lied. "I'm just saying. You never mentioned it. I thought you and Brad were like, set for the long game. This whole thing with you and him kind of took me by surprise."  

"Oh." She chuckled. "No, the whole thing with Brad was just a fling. This kind of took me by surprise, too. Things are moving faster than I anticipated." She giggled. "He asked me out a week ago, just yesterday we made things official."

"Wow," I said, "that is pretty fast."

"Yeah. He's so dreamy." She sighed. "But enough about me, what about you and Luke? Has he made another move? Have you guys...?"

"What, no." I scrunched my nose. "Things between us...it's been okay. We've only kissed like a few times." I wasn't about to confess to this female casanova that Luke's only had the guts to do it once, let alone the fact it was months ago. 

"A few times? And it's been like months?" 

"It's not my fault." I said defensively. "He's the distant one. He's been acting really weird lately. We never even made things official so...I have no idea where we're standing."

"So what, you guys have like a friends with benefits type of thing?"

"It's not even like that," I groaned. "Oh my god, I don't even know."

"You need to step it up. If I were you, and this is hypothetical, we'd be way past first base. Honey, I'd have hit a home run by now." She shuddered at the thought. 

"Angelica!" I laughed. "What's with you? We're barley eighteen!"

"Sorry, it's true! So long and you guys have made, like, zero progress. I could only imagine Luke. He's probably frustrated."

I remained quiet. Maybe that's why Luke was acting so weird. This was moving a lot slower than I thought. Was it possible he wanted more already?

"But hey, don't feel too pressured. It'll happen eventually. It's only a matter of time."

"What's a matter of time?" And out popped up Desmond. I choked on my spit. 

"Let's not be nosey." Angelica said, hopping down from the counter. "Ready to go?"

"Sure. Hey, thanks for letting me use your bathroom, Angel." Desmond said, turning to me. "It was either this or your neighbor's tree." He joked. 

The adorable, lightness of his laugh caught me off guard; I had knocked down the pyramid of apples and oranges on the kitchen counter. Swearing, I bent down before either of them could see the tomato of a face I had. 

"Crap, let me..." Desmond said, as he bent down with me to pick up the fruit. 

"You don't have to..."

"Nah, I insist," He grunted, "If a bullet hasn't killed me yet, I think I'll be okay with picking up a few apples."

Don't look up, don't look up, I thought to myself. But I couldn't help it. I glanced up at his tanned face and strikingly blue eyes, hoping they'd meet mine. They didn't. He was completely unaware of the effect he was having on me, focused on the bruising fruit between us. 

It had occurred to me that there was a variety of fruit at my finger tips, but there was one that I could not have; one that was strictly forbidden from my touch. 

"See, no harm done. Except for the fruit--God, I hate bruised apples." He scowled.  

"Anyways," Angelica brought me back to reality. "We should really be going. We're headed out to celebrate.

"Oh cool, to celebrate what?" I asked, breathless. 

I could hear the words coming out of Angelica's mouth, but I couldn't comprehend them; everything seemed muted as Desmond walked around the kitchen observing everything he could find. Normally I'd be insulted by such a blatant invasion of privacy, but I didn't mind it one bit. I nodded at Angelica's words, pretending to acknowledge what she was saying. When I smiled it wasn't because of her, but rather Desmond's sudden likeness to an alien; so much time away from home could desensitize you from what you once knew. 

"...I'm sure being a nurse isn't as hard as they say it is..." Angelica said. 

"You're studying to be a nurse?" I exclaimed, ripped right out of my trance. 

 "Yeah, I just told you that." She said, annoyed. 

I must have missed it. 

Desmond slipped right back at her side. "Can't wait to hear from the big guys, though. It's only a matter of time she'll get her acceptance letters." 

"The big guys." Angelica repeated, dumbfounded, but I knew exactly what he was referring to. Let me tell you, nothing was more amusing.

"UCLA, Berkeley...Riverside? " He said, unsure of himself.

Angelica finally caught on. "Oh right, the big guys. Well, it's only a matter of time."

She looked down at her shoes. "I don't think any of them will happen, but, I'll hope for the best." She whispered. 

It pays being pretty. You could pull off the damsel-in-distress any time and get away with it. Desmond fell right for it.

"Hey, let's hope for the best, babe." He rubbed her shoulder reassuringly. Babe, I thought. I never knew how much I could hate a word. 

And then came the question. "What about you, Angel? Have you heard from anyone?" I must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights, because both Desmond and Angelica shared worried looks. 

"Well," I cleared my throat. "I applied to some."

"Oh sure," He said, "But which ones?"

I glanced at Angelica, and I wish I hadn't. There was a pleading look in her eye, a look that begged me not to give Desmond the slightest indication who he was talking to: the girl in the letters. 

Angelica was my friend after all. How could I let some boy--some man drive a wedge between us? 

"Same as Angelica. But, I don't think I have the same odds as her, though." Which wasn't technically a lie. I suddenly needed to shrink away from Angelica's apprehensive stare. I wasn't great at this type of stuff. Lying, to be exact. 

"Don't say that! Hey, lemme know if you get into UCLA. I have some major strings I can pull for ya if you do." I nodded, even though I had already been accepted earlier that morning. 

"I'm sure she will." Angelica said. "There's always the waiting list. Anyways, we need to get going. I'm really hungry. We'll catch you later, kay Angel?" Angelica tugged at Desmond's sleeve, and he threw me an awkward wave as she dragged him out of my house. 

The hardest thing I could do was not slam the door after them. One of the biggest things I had confided in Desmond was my hopes for a higher education, to get into some of the world's most notable universities. I always dreamed of meeting Desmond in person, and dreamed of him congratulating me on getting into the colleges of my dreams. It was never going to happen at this point, because Im no longer the girl of those dreams. I'm her friend. 

I sat on my couch, burying my face into my hands. So this was how it was going to be from now on. Just feeding this huge old lie to Desmond for the next few years, or however this fling between him and Angelica would last. 

I think the jealousy outweighed the guilt for sure, but I could shake off the thought that Desmond was literally living a lie. It would probably ruin him to find out the most beautiful woman he's ever met is not actually the woman he grew so fond of, but rather a woman he barley shares anything in common with. Would he ever find out? Would I ever have the guts to tell him?

More importantly, would I have the guts to bring Angelica's facade to an end, a measure that would certainly ruin our relationship? What if this lie carried on for years, and I'd be forced to watch them get married, have children, and be that single, forty-year old woman who looks at them in envy? 

The sad fact of the matter was that no matter what happened, one or the other ended up losing. The real question was: who was it going to be? 

Desmond, or me?