Every Girl Does It

by Rachel Van Dyken

  He starts to pull me toward the down escalator as I turn around to yell for help from Kristin. But as per usual, she can’t read my mind. Therefore, she just waves at me as if I’m getting ready to go on a ride at Disneyland and bumps Brad as if to say, “Oh, look how cute they are going down the escalator.” The last thing she sees is me making a cut it out motion with my hand as my head ducks below to the first level.

  “Look, a dude.” Preston points toward a nerdy-looking barista whose reading Theology Today with an interest I can only describe as a little too intense.

  “Piece of cake.” Smoke is about to pour from my ears like a cartoon. To make myself feel better, I make the bet sweeter, for me. “I get a free coffee and you don’t talk to me the entire trip on the airplane.” I challenge.

  “Deal.” He shrugs.

  Pulling out my lip gloss, I put some on and approach the counter wearing my most flirtatious smile. “Hi.” I wave. Oh my word, I’m going to lose. Why did I just wave at someone right in front of me? My stomach churns as I think of the plane ride that’s at stake.

  The barista lifts his eyes for just a second before dropping the magazine in front of him and taking a cup in hand. “What would you like, miss?” His voice squeaks on the miss making me pity him all the more. This is all Preston’s fault.

  Clearing my throat, I try to engage him in conversation so I can flirt, or try to. “So...” I look at his name tag “John, that magazine looks pretty interesting. Are you studying to be a pastor?” He nods his head yes and blushes as I mentally high five myself for such clever flirting.

  His expression turns serious again as he asks, “Did you want coffee or not?”

  Laughing, I twist my dark hair around my finger playfully flirting with the poor guy.“Of course silly, that’s why I’m here.” I make a pretend pushing motion with my hand as if to say “you are so funny!” But he’s not having any of it, and he looks bored. How can I be more boring than Theology Today?

  No offense.

  “Umm,” I stutter. “Just a small black coffee.” Taking out the money, I begin to think of ways to ignore Preston. The Barista accepts my money and gives me some change. This time, I do not tip. I should have, but Preston would have seen it.

  Walking back toward Preston, I keep my head down waiting for the jokes to hit, but instead Preston just looks at me with prideful eyes and shrugs. “It’s not because you weren’t pretty enough, you just made him too nervous.” He and I walk side by side to the elevators before he says, “He was probably afraid of being rejected.”

  “Nope.” Why am I defending the coffee guy? “He was just more interested in his stupid magazine. Did you see me wave at him?”

  He turns toward me and winks. “My favorite part.”

  “Fine! You win, I lose. I hope you’re happy.” I down the entire contents of my cup and throw it in the trash.

  “Oh no, you don’t get away that easy. There’s one other coffee shop upstairs. I say we give it a try. That is, unless you’ve faced enough rejection for the day?”

  “Challenge accepted.” I mutter as we, yet again, pass Kristin and Brad. this time, however, they’re both looking in our direction smiling and tilting their heads as if to say, “Oh, look now they’re going for a walk. How cute.” We’ll have words later, you can bet on it.

  We approach the dreaded destination to find two male baristas behind the counter. This should be fun.

  “You don’t’ have to do this, you know,” Preston teased. “I promise I won’t tell anyone that theology boy rejected you.”

  I hit him in his muscular shoulder, probably hurting my hand more than his body, and turn to face the music.

  “Just be yourself!” Preston shouts after me as my face heats with sudden embarrassment.

  Both baristas look up as I approach. By now you must have guessed that I’m extremely keyed up on caffeine. I’ve had one full cup of coffee along with two shots of espresso. The wise choice would be to order a snack or bread to soak up the sugar or I’ll be totally out of control in about ten minutes. There’s a valid reason for not drinking too much caffeine and pop. I have trouble shutting up when it’s in my system. You’re thinking, “Wow, Amanda, you already have that problem. How could it get worse?” To which I’m guessing you’ll soon find out that it can, indeed, get worse.

  “What would you like, miss?” The first one asks. He’s quite good looking for a sixteen year old. There’s no way I should have ever thought that. I inwardly groan. I am so glad nobody can hear my thoughts. It reminds me of the time I went to the mall and saw a sign for Abercrombie and went “ooo he’s cute!” Not realizing that the sign was for the little kid Abercrombie, for kids under the age of eighteen. I was mortified, and of course, Grandma Ned was with me.

  You can only imagine her response. If I remember correctly, my mouth got washed out with soap while I read the Old Testament section about sexual immorality. If you ever doubted it before, I got to know my Bible around Grandma Ned.

  The cute underage barista is patiently waiting for my order. Clearing my throat, I order a bagel and decaf coffee, with cream. The first one types in my order while the other goes to work.

  “Oh no!” The second barista yells. I quickly look in his direction, fully anticipating a scarring coffee burn.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask trying to keep my voice even.

  “Oh, I just used regular rather than decaf and already put it together, guess I’ll have to redo it.” He shrugs.

  “No!” I yell using my outside voice. “It's fine. I’ll take it.”

  The baristas look between each other as if I just ask them if they could spit in my drink, and then tell me nicely, “You don’t have to pay for the Americano then, it’s our fault.”

  Walking away, I feel a confident grin begin on my face just as the first barista yells after me. “Miss! Miss! Sorry, but you still have to pay for your bagel!” My face tightens as Preston tries to unsuccessfully hide his laughter from me with his coffee.

  Turning around, I walk back to the counter and slam two dollars onto the surface top telling them to keep the change. Then I strut past Preston with my head held high and bagel full in my mouth. He better not ask me to share. Trying not to focus on the fact that I’ve lost a bet to Preston, I sit down next to Kristin in a huff.

  “So how was your walk or whatever or wait a second…” Her eyes lock onto my coffee then back at me, “How many of those have you had?”

  Preston plops down next to me and laughs. “Three. Actually she’s had four shots of espresso and one cup of coffee, to be exact.” Amused he flips open the newspaper and smiles as Kristin stares at me with ice in her eyes.

  “You know what caffeine does to you.” She hits Brad to involve him in the conversation sealing my fate.

  “You did what?” He yells jumping out of his seat. “You know what caffeine does to you!”

  “Preston dared me!” I protest in true teenage fashion while Preston looks innocently at both of our friends as if to say, “I have no idea what she’s talking about.”

  “Just out of curiosity, what does Amanda do when she has too much caffeine?” Preston has now put down his newspaper. He’s staring at Kristin and Brad in anticipation of the story he knows they’ll probably blab.

  “At least let me tell it so I know there are no exaggerations or falsifications.” I look Brad’s way causing him to look down in shame. He has a tendency to exaggerate everything.

  “So it’s not that big of a deal. It only happened one time, and I’ve since learned my lesson.” Preston needs to understand that it isn’t a regular occurrence for me.

  “You know what?” I say with heavy sarcasm. “I’m not going to tell and neither are you!” Pointing at both of my friends, I dare them with a silent glare. “True friends keep secrets; just know that you have nothing to worry about.”

  Kristin eyes me as she turns back to Brad. “Okay, blue pants.”

  “Shhhh,” I say patting her on the knee.

 
“Did you just call her blue pants?” Preston wants to know.

  “Yeah, on account of the blue pants she rocked during her last caffeine surge. Those poor kids didn’t even see her coming.” Brad takes off his baseball cap and holds it to his chest as if the children died or something, and I feel my resolve weaken as I look again toward Preston.

  “Fine, I drank a lot of caffeine then wanted to go play laser tag, wore blue pants to blend in to the blue walls in the laser tag place and stayed for three hours while I attacked small children with my laser gun.” I tried to let the words flow as fast as possible, hoping he wouldn’t’ catch all of it.

  “She wouldn’t let us leave until she won.” Brad admits, re-living the event.

  “We were so hungry.” Kristin holds Brads hand as they both lean in to touch heads.

  “It was dark. Cold, so very cold.” Brad continues as he closes his eyes as if he’s traumatized.

  “Ok. We’re done.” I say as I leave all of them and sit by myself to pout.

  They’re laughing, and I try to keep the smile off my face.

  It’s hard to stay mad at people who are so funny. With reluctance, I have to admit it has been the most fun vacation I have had in awhile, even if it’s been with Preston. But as I think this, I have a sickening feeling that I have a lot more “fun” to look forward to. I groan a little as I realize the caffeine is now hitting my stomach full force. I need the bathroom. Now.

  As quick as possible, in efforts to not bring attention to myself, I get up then sprint toward the bathroom. See? Being a runner is useful and applicable in many situations. While in there, I decide to put on some more lip gloss then strut out finally feeling comfortable and able to carry on a descent conversation. It looks like the plane is already boarding. To be honest, I was a bit excited to be riding in first class, but you aren’t going to hear me say that to Preston. No, it would go straight to his head, and that’s the last thing this world needs.

  Chapter Seven

  We shuffle to the front of the plane, each of us buzzing with excitement. I nearly choke when I see that all of the seats have personal TVs as well as blankets and pillows. Wow, this could be my heaven, complete with a glass full of water with lime. Inhaling, I look at my seat number only to trip over my bag and face plant into the seat next to me.

  “Straight lines, Amanda, straight lines.” Preston whispers behind me as he sidesteps and takes his seat in front of mine. I mutter something unintelligent as I crawl to my seat. At this time I’m unaware as to why I thought it would be a good idea for me to sit by the window. I’m terrified of heights. What am I thinking? Turning to ask Kristin to switch me places, I see her face and go pale. She’s going to ask me to move. That’s her pouty face. I know it’s her pouty face. Oh no, don’t do it, Kristin. Do not do it!

  “Panda?” She pleads as she takes my hand in her own and leans in to a whisper, “I know this sounds silly, but Brad and I haven’t had much alone time lately, and what with the five hour plane ride and all, we thought it might be fun to sit together. Would you be mad?”

  Of course I’ll be mad. But I can’t say this, not when I want to be a good friend. Plus it’s because of them that I’m even on this trip. Okay it’s not a big deal, I’ll just “fake sleep” the entire time Preston sits by me. It shouldn’t be hard. Wait, I’ve had lots of caffeine today. Why is this happening? Sure my eyes are twitching with frustration, I start to panic thinking I’ll develop a nervous tick from all the stress.

  But I’m stuck, so I agree and let Kristin switch with Preston and I resign myself to my fate. “Hey, buddy,” Preston jokes playfully as he sets his messenger bag underneath the seat in front of him. I, however, do not feel like being a “buddy”. I find myself reaching over to unlock his trey just as he is about to bring his head back up. Crack!

  It hits his head hard. He glares at me just in time for Kristin and Brad to turn around, concern written all over their faces. “Is everything okay?” Brad asks as he eyes Preston rubbing his sore head.

  “It’s awesome,” he answers in an irritating manor.

  I make a thumbs-up sign then stick my tongue out at him when they turned back around. He tried to grab it before I put it back in my mouth, but I snap my teeth at him like a piranha. Am I acting childish? Yes, but it’s self-defense; this guy is dangerous.

  You can tell by the way he wears his pants. What type of guy wears pants that expensive? Don’t think I didn’t notice. He’s wearing Rock and Republic jeans. Even I don’t own a pair of Rock and Republic jeans. I tend to go toward Lucky brand, which I know sounds funny considering that was cool in High School, but they’re super comfortable.

  I let my gaze wander up and stop at his belt. See? Another sign I missed. He wears a belt. Men who wear belts are overcompensating. It’s like they have to show to the world they’re men and masculine and buff. I trail up to his tight T-shirt and wince as my eyes meet his.

  His smile turns cocky as he asks, “Looking for something, Amanda?”

  I squint my eyes until I look like a Korean supermodel then turn to face the front of the plane. Revenge. Kristin will pay for this; just you wait and see it will be war. Leaning down, I tuck everything underneath Brad’s seat and gaze out the window.

  Traveling in the winter always makes me nervous. Are the people de-icing the plane all classified to be doing that job? Have you seen how sketchy some of those workers are? Most of them are out there laughing and joking around as they spray the de-icer on the plane while we could be plummeting to our death in mere hours because of their inability to pay attention to detail. I start to feel myself hyperventilate as I watch a guy who appears to be no older than Mr. Theology laugh and do a “check” of the hydraulics. Oh, good, check buddy, did you strain yourself bending over that far? Never mind, you didn’t even look! He just gives a thumbs-up to the guy in front of him who then gives a thumbs up to the pilot who comes over the loud speaker to say, “All clear”.

  Closing my eyes, I feel the plane start to taxi to the runway. Preston’s eyes bore into my skin as I peek around my black eyelashes. “What?” I ask in annoyance knowing if I say anymore my voice might start shaking.

  “Are you ok?” He looks shocked as if he thinks I’m not scared of anything except for irrational things like birds and caffeine.

  I shrug. “I just don’t like heights.”

  Before I know it Kristin turns around in the seat and gives a brief history of my flight experiences to Preston, the puke bag and all. I hide my head in my hands hoping that the plane does crash then I feel us start to take off.

  There’s no way I could have helped myself, and I don’t think what I did next should be held against me.

  Panic rises in my chest and before I know it, I’m clinging onto Preston like a crazy person and breathing heavily into his chest all the while gripping his hands so hard that I lose feeling in all fingers.

  After about five minutes, I pull back realizing that I just attacked the poor man but see no hint of smugness on his face, which confuses me. I mean one minute he’s…well, you know and the next he’s….This!

  I’m mortified. At least in other plane rides I held on to complete strangers or weird old men who oddly liked the embrace. I would’ve welcomed anything but this. And he doesn’t even seem the least bit affected by my presence! How is it fair that I find myself staring at him like some love sick teenager while my presence does nothing but make him want to be more irritating?

  Ducking down to get my carry-on, I get a book and start to read. If there ever was good advice Grandma Ned gave me it was to take funny books on plane trips. She said it helped calm her down and keep her from getting mad at grandpa’s incessant snoring. If it can get rid of grandpa’s snoring, it can get rid of the annoying person next to me, and my humiliation.

  To my surprise, I find myself enthralled in the book until I smell that all too familiar peppermint smell.

  “What are you reading?” His eyes sparkle with interest.

  “Please d
on’t’ talk to me,” I grumble.

  He looks momentarily hurt then smiles and says okay. The next thing I know, he’s passing me a note. I should have known.

  So, what are you reading?

  Oh just a book about this plane ride where a girl beats this annoying man to death for talking to her too much.

  Fun.

  Yeah, I’m thinking of using it as an example.

  I think I’d like that.

  You would.

  Was that a statement or a question?

  If it was a question, I would have used a question mark.

  Just checking……You look pretty when you read.

  Is this a trick to try to get me to be uncomfortable?

  Nope just honesty. You want to look at me right now, don’t you?

  No…

  Yes, you do. I can tell. You want to look at my face and see if I’m kidding. Don’t worry though, I’m not.

  Interesting.

  Isn’t it though?

  What?

  That such a simple compliment would have the power to make you blush.

  It doesn’t take much to make a girl blush if you put meaning behind words…..then again a guy like you should know that.

  What do you mean a guy like me?

  An attractive man like you should know the power he has over women.

  Hmm…just like an attractive woman like yourself should know the power she has over men.

  And then I break summoning up the courage to look up into his gaze. Our eyes lock in a moment of pure electric tension. It’s shortened by the flight attendant stopping to see if we needed anything to drink.

  I ask for water as does he then sit there in silence with my book still in hand.

  “Hey, do you want to watch a movie?” Preston asks taking out his headphones.

  “How?” My eyebrows furrow in confusion.

  “Well it’s cool, see they have these things called TVs and if you plug in the—”

  “Ughh I knew it was too good to be true,” I whine.