A Friend Like Me

Should I say it? Should I tell you how I feel?
Oh, I want you to know.
But then again, I don't.
It's so complicated.
Complicated - Carolyn Dawn Johnson

Okay. So I got little sleep last night and all I thought about was Joe.

In fact, he was what I was thinking about when I stepped outside the next day and found him leaning against a car,. And judging by the way there were dark circles under his eyes, he didn't get much sleep last night, either.

“Hey,” he said, lighting up when he saw me.

But I walked past him, rolling my eyes.

“Ava.” Joe ran in front of me to block my way. “Can't we forget about last night?”

I turned around and headed back to my apartment, still ignoring him.

“Come on,” Joe pleaded, still going after me, even as I was heading up the stairs back to my room. “Please? Last night was really weird and – uh, I just want to forget about it.”

I sighed. “Fine.”

“So, is James the one you like, then?”

“I thought you said we were forgetting about it.”

“Oh. Right. Well, let's unforget for a minute.”

“Unforget isn't a word, Joseph. I think the word you're looking for is remember.”

“Well, it's a word now. Anyway, is he?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“Give me a hint.”

I thought about it. “Okay. His name begins with a 'J.'”

Oh wait. This could be too specific. I started to mentally list all the guys Joe and I knew that had names beginning with the letter J.

“So it is James,” Joe said triumphantly, but dejectedly at the same time.

“I just said it wasn't,” I reminded him.

“Oh yeah.” Joe was silent after that. “Is it me?” he asked so quickly that it was hard to understand him.

Shit.

“Uh…” I mumbled, looking for something I could say. “What makes you say that?”

My heart was starting to beat rapidly.

I swear, this can't be good for you. This could probably lead to heart attacks and strokes and whatnot.

“Well,” Joe said, going pink now, “you said it started with a 'J' and – and stuff.”

“R-Right,” I stuttered.

What am I supposed to do? Come right out and say it?

Why is it that we don't learn how to handle these situations in school, anyway? Like, “Students, this is how you handle falling in love with your best friend…”, huh? Actually, nevermind, they'd just be like, “Go ahead and tell them! You'll reap the benefits!” and we'll go off, feeling all optimistic.

You know what? Screw this. I'm just going to go ahead and tell it to him straight.

What I'm going to actually say to him, though, is a different topic. Do I just say “You” or do I just build up the suspense or –

“Ava!” Joe yelled and I felt his strong arms wrap around my waist, jerking me backwards, pulling me back onto the curb.

What the…?

“Are you okay?” Joe asked worriedly, an arm still around me.

“Um, yeah?” I said uncertainly. I mean, why else wouldn't I be?

When I voiced that thought to Joe, he said as a matter-of-factly, “You walked right into the traffic. Are you okay? That taxi nearly hit you.”

I shrugged. “I guess. I mean, I'm not injured or anything.”

Whoa, though. If it wasn't for him, my brain would probably be all over 4th Street by now.

“Hey, thanks,” I added. “I spaced out. I was thinking about…um…things.”

If this isn't a sign that I shouldn't tell Joe I'm in love with him, I don't know what is.

“Oh. Well, are you sure you're fine?”

“Yes, Joe, I'm alright,” I reassured him, stepping onto the street when the red hand turned to the walking white man thing.

{∞∞∞}

“I want to go on one of those,” Joe said, gesturing to those boats at Central Park.

“No,” I protested. “They're for tourists.”

Although I've secretly wanted to go on one. I mean, they look kind of fun.

“Let's go!” Joe said, interlacing his hand with mine and gently pulling me towards the boathouse.

Instantly, it became harder to keep my focus.

I mean, I remember when we were little, our mothers told us to hold hands while crossing the street. Somehow, they convinced us that it would prevent us from getting mauled by a bus, when really by doing that, it only ensures that both of us would get hit.

Back then, though, Joe's hand would be quite sticky from candy. Now though, it was all soft, warm, and big.

And not to mention the fact that back then, it was completely normal for me when we held hands. Now it's like, “Joe and I are holding hands! EEE!”

Even though I know this is absolutely non-amorous.

But still. We're holding hands!

I know, I know. I am a sad, pathetic person.

“And,” I said quickly, “those boats are for couples!”

Joe looked back at me, grinning. “Exactly.”

I blinked. “What?!”

Joe turned red. “Uh – I mean, 'Exactly' as in there's two of us, which makes us a pair. And couple – uh – an acronym –er, synonym of it.”

I blushed, too. “Right,” I said. “Because…well…yeah.”

Even though couple is more of a romantic word and pair's more of a…well, non-romantic word.

Oh well, though. I know Joe and I know he gets confused with words.

And I also know that he doesn't see me the way I see him.

{∞∞∞}

“Joe!” I laughed. “Give me the oars!”

“No,” Joe said. “I'm an excellent rower! Look how far we've gotten now.”

I looked around; the boathouse was off in the distance and it took us a while to get to where we were right now.

“That's because I've the one who's been rowing. Ever since you've rowed, we've been going in circles.”

“We have not,” Joe said stubbornly.

“Give it. We've been rowing for forever now.”

“No! Wait, look.” Joe started to move the oars up and down, flapping them as if they were wings. “I'm a bird!”

I laughed. “You are so weird. Now give it here.”

“But I'm strong! See, I'm able enough to row us.”

I raised my eyebrows. “So because I'm a girl, I can't row us back? You think that all girls are stupid, weak, and clingy!”

“Oh come on,” Joe said. “How can I think that after knowing you?”

Truth is, I really don't actually mind this. We were alone…and his muscles flexed every time he picked the oars out of the water.

You know how I said to shoot me if I ever got pathetic enough to throw education, my whole life, if it meant more time with him? To shoot me if I got pathetic enough to throw myself off a cliff should he leave?

Yeah. Well, you'd better load that gun.