I have never taken a bullet, but I assume that falling for your best guy friend feels about the same. When it hit my chest, the tingles traveled all over my body and froze my smile as a way to prove that I was fine after such a surprising blow. The first shot rang out on one idle Friday night when he came into town to help his brother move into a new apartment. I thought we were going out for a friendly drink and late night pizza. Little did I know, my heart ordered a side of “should I have made a move?” I pondered the question as it brought me to the front of the battlefield; it was my very own Battle of Bunker Hill.
As he waved to the waiter for the check, I couldn’t help but notice how many times he twirled the chewed straw in his now empty Dr. Pepper cup. It was as if he was twirling his rifle in front of the dying casualty in front of him.
“Dessert?” I quickly asked, changing the subject in my mind.
Of course he doesn’t want dessert. He already asked for the check.
“Nah. Dessert’s not really my thing.”
“Not even pie?!”
You. Are a loser.
As he waved to the waiter for the check, I couldn’t help but notice how many times he twirled the chewed straw in his now empty Dr. Pepper cup. It was as if he was twirling his rifle in front of the dying casualty in front of him.
“Dessert?” I quickly asked, changing the subject in my mind.
Of course he doesn’t want dessert. He already asked for the check.
“Nah. Dessert’s not really my thing.”
“Not even pie?!”
You. Are a loser.
I thanked God that the dimmed lights in the pizzeria hid my blushing face. I forgot that not everyone shared my love of the flaky crust and fruit or cream-filled dessert.
“I mean, you’re right. We’ll wait. I’ll show you that great place tomorrow.”
“Sure. Whatever. Play you for the last slice?”
He held out his fist, ready for our usual game of "Rock/Paper/Scissors for the Last One." I ignored his recklessness with my heart and played along.
I lost.
“I mean, you’re right. We’ll wait. I’ll show you that great place tomorrow.”
“Sure. Whatever. Play you for the last slice?”
He held out his fist, ready for our usual game of "Rock/Paper/Scissors for the Last One." I ignored his recklessness with my heart and played along.
I lost.
That night, I buried my feelings and acted like I didn’t really want to bring him to my secret pie place – an hour outside of the city.
My eyes watched for the 65-mile speed limit as I waited for him to join in my awkward rendition of a Michael Jackson song. Suddenly, he opened his mouth.
“Okay, I’ve got to tell you about this dream I had last night.”
Was I in it?
“Yeah, sure go ahead.”
“So, I’m at a party on some cliff. It’s a clear day, perfect for swimming. There are drinks, all of my guy friends are there, some cute girls.”
Um, maybe I don’t want to hear about this.
“All of your guy friends, huh?”
“Yeah. We were jumping into the bay and everyone was chatting and having a good time. And then I see her.”
This little story is starting to sound a lot like a John Hughes movie. It better end with you bringing me a birthday cake with sixteen candles.
“You see ‘her’?”
“Yes. This girl. She is talking to everyone and everyone is talking to her. I’m completely drawn to her, like I want to tell her the truth about my feelings.”
Oh, God this is it. Ring the bell, the British are coming!
“Well, do you?”
“The thing is that every time I try to, she disappears or gets pulled away or distracted so I can’t tell her.”
For God’s sake, who is she?!
“Who is she? Do you know her?”
“No, I have no idea. But then something else happens.”
I know! She turns around and it’s me, right?!
“The suspense is killing me.”
“I make a jump off the cliff, almost hitting a bed of rocks at the bottom. It nearly kills me! I’m talking near-death experience. All of my friends help me out and when I reach the top, I see her again. I am determined to tell her how I feel, but when I finally get to her and I’m about to tell her - like the words are coming out of my mouth - I wake up.”
“Okay, I’ve got to tell you about this dream I had last night.”
Was I in it?
“Yeah, sure go ahead.”
“So, I’m at a party on some cliff. It’s a clear day, perfect for swimming. There are drinks, all of my guy friends are there, some cute girls.”
Um, maybe I don’t want to hear about this.
“All of your guy friends, huh?”
“Yeah. We were jumping into the bay and everyone was chatting and having a good time. And then I see her.”
This little story is starting to sound a lot like a John Hughes movie. It better end with you bringing me a birthday cake with sixteen candles.
“You see ‘her’?”
“Yes. This girl. She is talking to everyone and everyone is talking to her. I’m completely drawn to her, like I want to tell her the truth about my feelings.”
Oh, God this is it. Ring the bell, the British are coming!
“Well, do you?”
“The thing is that every time I try to, she disappears or gets pulled away or distracted so I can’t tell her.”
For God’s sake, who is she?!
“Who is she? Do you know her?”
“No, I have no idea. But then something else happens.”
I know! She turns around and it’s me, right?!
“The suspense is killing me.”
“I make a jump off the cliff, almost hitting a bed of rocks at the bottom. It nearly kills me! I’m talking near-death experience. All of my friends help me out and when I reach the top, I see her again. I am determined to tell her how I feel, but when I finally get to her and I’m about to tell her - like the words are coming out of my mouth - I wake up.”
BAM!
Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.“You’re kidding me.”
“No, I’m not. I just don’t know what it means.”
Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.“You’re kidding me.”
“No, I’m not. I just don’t know what it means.”
Suddenly, I’m very aware of the time my brother-in-law brought me to the shooting range as a graduation present. He wanted to show me how to load a gun and how to shoot it correctly, always aiming for a little above your bullseye. I looked down at the circle design of his tee-shirt. The center was just two inches below his chest.
What it means?! Well, that’s easy. Yes, that girl is me. Not “I wish it were me,” it actually is! You see, just because I have come in and out of your life for three years, it does not mean that I can be thrown into the heap of random girls! The odds of you having this dream when you were visiting your friend over the summer are pretty slim. This dream is telling you, “Hey! You might actually have feelings for her. Yes, the girl in front of you! Put down your fork and kiss her, you idiot!”
What it means?! Well, that’s easy. Yes, that girl is me. Not “I wish it were me,” it actually is! You see, just because I have come in and out of your life for three years, it does not mean that I can be thrown into the heap of random girls! The odds of you having this dream when you were visiting your friend over the summer are pretty slim. This dream is telling you, “Hey! You might actually have feelings for her. Yes, the girl in front of you! Put down your fork and kiss her, you idiot!”
He looked away and admired the country air the café oddly captured: tables and booths made of oak wood, animal heads hanging from the walls, pictures of old patrons next to Sandra, the first owner.
“This place is pretty cool. Play you for the last bite?” He held his fist to his palm to challenge me.
"The last bite?"
That was it. I loaded my rifle.
One. Two. Three. Shoot."The last bite?"
That was it. I loaded my rifle.
“All right!” He cut my flat hand with his fingers.
“Best out of three?”
“Fine.”
One. Two. Three. Shoot.
“Rock will smash your scissors.” I popped my fist on his fingers.
One. Two. Three.
“Shoot!”
I picked up my fork and scooped the last bite of pie into my mouth. He was crazy to think that he was going to get my heart and my chocolate cream.
