I WAS STILL A BIT LIGHTHEADED BY THE TIME I MADE IT to class. My classmates were already quietly working on an assignment as I entered the room. Luckily, we had a substitute teacher, so I didn’t have to answer many questions about where I had been.
I could feel the eyes of my classmates focusing on me as I sauntered toward my seat. They were all looking at me but only one of them really mattered. As I made my way to my desk near the back of the class, I pretended not to notice her staring at me. As always, my heart started to pound as I took my seat directly behind her. I had been sitting in the seat behind her for four consecutive months by that point, yet the very sight of her still sent my heart into overdrive. That was because she was, in every sense of the phrase, the girl of my dreams.
Her name was Monica. She had transferred to our school from somewhere in New York. I didn’t know very much about her besides the fact that she was the most beautiful being that I had ever laid eyes on. The funny thing was, it seemed like she didn’t even realize just how attractive she was. Perhaps it was my ego playing tricks on me, but at least once a day I would catch her staring at me. She never said anything and would always look away whenever we made eye contact, so I was never one hundred percent sure as to what it could have meant.
Maybe I should try to talk to her, I thought as I admired the sweet smell of what I had come to assume was her favorite perfume. I didn’t know what had gotten into me on that day. Not only had I finally stood up to the most fearsome bully at our school, but I was contemplating initiating contact with a girl that I was downright afraid to talk to out of a fear of embarrassing myself. I knew that I only had a snowball’s chance of getting her to actually like me, but a snowball’s chance is a chance in its own right.
But maybe I’ll wait until tomorrow, I finally thought.
“Excuse me,” a velvety female voice whispered, interrupting my thoughts. I couldn’t bear to look up at her in that moment because I suddenly felt so overwhelmingly unprepared. All my months of silently pining over her and not making any attempt to communicate were about to come to an end, and I could not think of a single thing to say.
What could I say to her? Hey, it’s me the guy who’s been virtually stalking you for the last four months. I’m also the guy that keeps having this recurring nightmare about me flying through the air while carrying you in my arms while you glare at me as though you want to kill me…How’s it going?
My heart throbbed in my chest so loudly that I was sure the rest of the class would hear it.
“Hey, excuse me,” she whispered again. Even as a whisper, her voice was as smooth as silk. I was still immersed in my feelings of inadequacy, but I could not bear to deny her twice. I cautiously looked upward, partially expecting the ever-present scowl from my dreams, but to my surprise, she was smiling.
The perfect smile.
My heart rate doubled as I realized that I must have been staring into the eyes of a goddess. Her face was nearly perfectly symmetrical aside from the fact that she squinted her right eye a tiny bit more than her left eye whenever she smiled. Her deep amber eyes paralyzed me. Her expression was so beautiful and brilliant that to even think of the scowl from my dreams upon her face almost seemed unnatural.
“Hello,” I muttered. It was all that I could say. Crap, I blew it, I thought. To my surprise, she continued to smile, seemingly unfazed by my lack of conversational prowess.
“Hey, I’m Monica,” she replied.
This is it! The moment of truth, I thought. My heart was pounding even more by that point.
“I’m A-Adam,” I stammered, embarrassed to have stumbled over my words. Again, I was pleased to see that my stammering had no adverse effect on her demeanor.
“Nice to meet you, Adam,” she said, biting her lip after her statement.
She bit her lip! What does that mean? Is she having second thoughts about talking to me? My thoughts were raging about my head, making it difficult for me to focus.
“Adam, I was hoping…” Monica started.
Here it comes! I thought. Maybe she’ll ask me out! No, maybe she just wants to be friends initially in order to make sure she and I are compatible, and then perhaps we can see where it goes from there. Yeah, that’s it! I thought, at a rate of 1000 thoughts per second.
“Adam, did you hear me?” Monica whispered.
Crap, I missed it! I thought. What did she say?
“Y-Yes. I heard you,” I lied.
“Well do you have one?”
“One of what?” I asked.
“A pen. Do you have an extra pen? I told you mine just ran out of ink,” she replied.
So that’s it, huh? Simply using me for my school supplies, I thought feeling defeated.
The only pen I had at the moment was the one in my hand, but I gave it to her anyway. There was no way I could say no to those eyes. The sting of my misguided hope only lasted for a fraction of a second. In no time, I was again elated by the fact that we had actually had a conversation. So what if it had ended with me giving up my only writing utensil?
Totally worth it, I thought, as I looked downward and smiled.
My heart skipped a beat as I noticed Monica’s purse on the floor beside her desk. It was not the purse that shocked me. My alarm was brought on by the fact that, from where I was sitting, I noticed three seemingly brand new pens inside her purse.
Had she really turned around just to borrow a pen? How could she have forgotten about the three pens sitting in her purse?
I was uncertain about a lot in that moment, but one thing that I was absolutely sure of was that that day had been one of the most interesting days of my life. There was no way that I could have known at the time that in the days and weeks to come, things were about to get a lot more interesting.
8. DINNER
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