She Can't Read Minds

He sighed, sitting down on his bed so I was forced to stand there awkwardly. The television blasted out the current score to us; Pittsburg Steelers: 10, Green Bay Packers: 21. Secretly cursing at the Packers, I focused onto Markus. He did look positively adorable right now and if we weren’t all awkward right now, I would have jumped on him. Hugged him, kissed him, anything.

Markus glanced at the television screen, perking up. “Fuck yes! Touchdown, Steelers.” I grinned, looking at him happily. He turned to me, raising an eyebrow confused. “What? Oh-sit, sorry. That was r-rude.” I felt like all the awkwardness melted away if only for a moment when I sat down beside him on his bed. “Who do you think’ll win?”

“Steelers, definitely Steelers.” I told him, grinning as my eyes scanned the screen. Suddenly a curly haired man appeared set; only the first and last letters of his name showing due to his long hair. I beamed, “That’s my guy! I have his jersey! 43; Polamalu.”

Markus laughed at me, shaking his head. “I have Roethlisberger’s.”

“Typical,” I rolled my eyes playfully, “the quarterback’s. Everyone gets the QB’s jersey.” Markus smiled at me, shrugging.

“They know a good quarterback when they see one, I guess.”

“So,” I said, glancing at the television as some guys discussed something I couldn’t hear due to the now muted television, “I’m just guessing here, but are you rooting for the Steelers?” Markus chuckled, but nodded. We lived so close to the border of Wisconsin that everyone that lived here loved the Packers. “Aw, not the good ol’ Packers. Cheeseheads.”

“Nah,” Markus replied, “I hate cheese.”

“Freak!” I grinned. “How can you not like cheese?”

“I don’t know, just tastes bad to me.” He said simply, shrugging his shoulders. We sat in silence for a while watching the famous Super Bowl commercials and, of course, the actual game. I normally hated football; never understood it and it never held my interest. Now it did though, but I still lacked understanding of it. The score is all that matters in the end; I understood the score just fine. “Miranda,” Markus spoke up as a commercial popped onto the screen, “what’d you wanna talk about?”

Welcome back the awkward. “You know when, uh, you told me about how you…”

“I remember.” He flinched.

I bit my lip, staring at my hands nervously. “Yeah, I didn’t mean to run off like that. It was just my instincts. Fight or flight-er something. But I didn’t want to run from you; I just freaked out so I left. I wanted to avoid something, but I don’t know what it was.” Markus stared at me, like he wasn’t buying it. Like he thought I was only saying this to make him feel better. “I-I feel the same way.”

“No, you don’t.” He grumbled, staring at his hands in his lap. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not, I swear.” I told him, leaning my head on his shoulder as he stared at the television screen. He cursed under his breath upon seeing the Packers score. Now; Steelers: 17, Packers: 28. They really needed to get their asses in motion, I thought. “I like you. A lot.”

“Seriously?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at me. I laughed, nodding my head. “I like you too...but you knew that. So, what are we then?” He was too cute.

“Two Steelers fans who are gonna go put on their jerseys and root for their team.” I told him, smiling up at him slightly while he looked back down at me. Slowly Markus closed the distance between our faces until everything was right and our lips were moving in sync. I pushed him away playfully and lightly, “Come on. Jersey. On. Now.”

“Yes ma’am.” I smiled, wrapping my arms around his torso as he returned the hug. After changing into our jerseys, we sat on Markus’s bed and watched the game. “Say, Rand-Rand, would you like to be my girlfriend?”

“Say, I think I do.” Markus grinned, pulling me closer to him.

“Good.”