Forelsket.

I was back at home within the next couple of days, stopping by the hospital for short visits while Jared glared from behind me the entire time. Whenever I had encountered Lindsay, she would not even look at me, let alone speak to me. At least, when she yelled at me, she acknowledged that I was there. It hurt much more for her to act as though I wasn’t even alive. It made me feel uneasy, and guilty – nervousness spread through my body like fire through a house. And every time we were in the same room, I had always ended up biting the skin around my fingers in hopes to stop them from shaking.

It became increasingly hard to keep in mind that, Lindsay didn’t know about any of what happened. And from her side, it was understandable that she was acting resentful toward me. Our grandfather was dying and it seemed as though I didn’t even care.

Mostly, I locked myself in my room, watching shows and movies and mindlessly clicking away on the computer. During the hours I spent online, I somehow had ended up looking at various programs in colleges and universities, reading success stories and feeling like a deadbeat. I’d been out of high school for almost a year, and had absolutely nothing to show for it. Not a job, not an application to a college or university.

I think, when I got out of high school, my defense for all of that was ‘I just spent all of my life up until now at school and working part time. I just want some time’. In reality, looking back, I had felt so beaten and torn down – weighed down with the secret that made me feel those things. In reality, I didn’t want the world to see me. And I didn’t want to be cramped in a school with a million strangers surrounding me. I wasn’t sure how to handle it.

But I suddenly had the over whelming desire to do things with my life, and I wasn’t sure if it was just a fleeting moment or a life time decision.

It was like those weeks, where you wake up every day and you’re happy. And you think you actually do look beautiful, and you think, ‘finally’. And you hope the feeling will stay.

It hardly ever does. And it seems like the week spent loving yourself never happened at all.

In any case – fleeting moment or not – I kept the idea of continuing with school swimming in my mind while I droned on through an entire week. On the days I didn’t see him, Jared had called - mostly pestering me about telling my family exactly what was happening for so many years. He was convinced it would make everything somehow better, but I wasn’t so sure. Although he wasn’t happy with my decision, he would still take me to see Grandpa. He didn’t like it, but he at least respected it, which was enough for me.

I also didn’t fail to notice how John hadn’t contacted me at all, and I had this intense feeling of disappointment, and felt stupid immediately afterwards for feeling it. He, in reality, had no obligation to ‘contact’ me – I wasn’t his girlfriend or anything of the sort. But, the rationalization didn’t stop that nagging feeling when my phone would buzz and I’d grab it quickly only to see Jareds name on the screen.

By Saturday, I had given up sleeping close to my phone, and jumping at the sound of a new text. Ironically, that was the day he actually did text me. And it had took me ages to answer because I was ‘wasting water’ (or, taking a too-long shower), but when I finally sat down on my bed to read the text, it was a simple one.

Hey, hope its okay if I pick you up at 5:30 tonight?

I grinned so hard my cheeks felt as though they would rip from ear to ear. I also imagined him actually saying it, and imagined he would have been just as awkward as he had always been. My grin holding, I quickly typed in ‘yep!’, and immediately wondered how eager I must have appeared to him. I blushed to myself, and, holding my towel to my body, I walked over to my dresser to find a hair brush. I tried not to smile too largely at the sound of a new text, and decided to wait until I was done my after-shower rituals to check it.

When I did, it was simple – much like the first:

Sweet.

I didn’t bother asking where we would be headed, because it was my first ever date (if it, indeed, was), and my heart fely giddy at the thought of surprise. My Grandfather at the absolute back of my mind, I pulled on lounging clothing and proceeded to my closet to fish around for something nice to wear. The task, I found, was impossible, and I end up in that one sundress I have, plain black flats. Simple enough, I figure.

Noticing the time, I quickly scribbled on some lipgloss and mascara, cleaning my eyelids where the brush touched the skin. My hair was in a low bun at the nape of my neck, only a few strands falling from it. Before I have time to assess how I look as a finished result, I turned away from my mirror and headed down the stairs just as the doorbell was ringing.

I hoped to beat my mother to the door, but who am I kidding? She was preparing dinner and I haven’t told her I have a – shall I say it? – date. The door opened just as I entered the kitchen, and I knew my mother was surprised because she simply stood there, looking at John. John, who smiled this awkward, charming smile, and carefully trailed his eyes over to me.

The next things happened in a haste – my mother following his gaze, her ‘oh!’ in a squeaking voice as she steps aside. She eagerly (too eagerly) said,’come in, John, it’s nice to see you’. And all the blood in my body rises to colour my cheeks. I bowed my head, and fiddled with my fingers in embarassement.

“Yeah,” John said, his voice kind of a grin. “It’s nice to meet you again, ma’am.” He said ‘ma’am’ in a goofy voice that made my mother and I kind of chuckle, and I finally grew a pair and looked up at them both. Despite the flare of colour on Johns cheeks, he was smiling. And, gosh, he was adorable. I blushed to myself, frantically wondering if he was a secret mind-reader. So I bit on my lip for a moment.

“Hey.” God, it was just a whisper. And I felt my lips move, but my heart was beating in my ears, so I was not even completely sure I had said the word.

“Hey.” He actually looks relaxed today, not a single muscle in his face tensed because of being awkward. And I wondered if he was just over that – that he felt okay with me now. And, if he did, I ached to be okay with him, too.

Around him, I am too aware of myself, how strands of my hair may not be sitting right, how my eyebrows might look off, which way my lips look better, which side of my face is the ‘better half’. Right then and there, I realized I wished I could calculate my every move, being fully self-conscious about my appearance and who I am as a whole. Because, I’ll be honest, for once in my life I’m hoping that a boy will like me. And I know that if he doesn’t, then he just doesn’t – but I know I would think it was something about me, and I would want to fix it.

It all sounds pathetic, so I tried my best to push it to the back of my mind. When I did, I realized we’re all floating on a rift of awkward silence, and Johns smile had faded and he resumed looking awkward.

“Okay, Mom,” I gave her a small smile, “I guess I’ll see you when I get home. I have my cell phone on me if you need me.” I told her as I walked to the front door. I nudged my head in the direction of the door and John got a goofy grin on his face and strided toward me.

“Okay, sweetie,” my mom callecd once I opened the door, “Have fun. Nice seeing you, John!”

John quickly yelled, ‘you too!’ before I shut the door behind us. And even though we were out in the big, wide world, this already felt private.

“Alright, Liese,” he said, upon walking to his truck, “this is probably going to be awkward as hell, but I figure we’ll never get through that if we don’t try.” He turned to me, and gave me a shy smile. “But! I promise to try not to be too awkward. And, I mean, this date isn’t that special. I know that it’s hard to get to know someone – you have to know their presence first. Or get used to them…” He paused to run over to the passenger door and open it for me. I pretended not to be shocked and give him a smile and blushed a thousand blushes when I slid into the seat. He ran over to his side of the car, getting in and starting it.

“So, I thought, for now, we should go to a movie. And if you’re up for it, some desert? I don’t know – ice cream, pie. Whatever the fuck.” He chuckled at himself as his car rolls down the road. I chuckled with him, but I wanted to tell him not to worry. That, really, I’d go watch cows take shits with him and I wouldn’t mind it at all. That despite my being apprehensive of people, he didn’t make me as nervous as others, and I wanted to get used to having him around.

Instead, I just girned at him and said, “Sounds perfect. Thank you.” And then I had the pleasure to watch him laugh, adams apple bobbing wonderfully under the flesh of his neck. I blushed and focused my eyes to my lap, a small, genuine smile playing on my lips for the whole ride to the theatre.



When we arrived at the theatre, we stood near the back, reading the list and contemplating what to watch – in the end, we settled for the Da Vinci Code, which was (admittedly) harder for me to get into. I would sneak glances at John occasionally, to see his eyes squinted in concentration, and it would make me smile. In fact, the night was full of me smiling – from the moment he insisted to pay for the tickets to when I paid for the popcorn, to the moment we walked out of the theatre doors.

He didn’t try anything – which I felt like thanking him for again and again. He didn’t try to hold my hand, or put his arm around me. We did, however sit kind of close during the movie – close enough that I had felt the heat circling between our arms. Oddly enough, it only made me nervous in the sense that my stomach was flip-flopping because part of me did want to connect our arms so that we were skin-on-skin.

While we walked in silence up the stairs and out into the night sky, I tried my best to cover my blush with the strands of my hair that had falllen out of my bun. I didn’t know what to say to him, really, and I don’t think he knew what to say to me, either. And even though this was the only date I had been on, I couldn’t help but think they were all awkward. Simply because, that was it. This was the first step to something more than a simple friendship, and that’s awkward for a lot of people, I think. Because you don’t know whats going to happen. And nerves get the better of you.

Or, perhaps I wanted to believe I was not alone in being completely tongue tied on my first date. I was so afraid of sounding stupid that night, but I would come to realize (much later, of course), you can’t really sound stupid in front of John, because hes not the type of person to make you feel that way.

Before he unlocked his car doors, he turned to me, and gave me a shy grin that had me smiling back at him in a nano-second.

“I think,” he said, “that’s the kind of movie you need to watch twice to get every bit of information or something. Because I feel like I’ve missed things.” He laughed at himself, and I could only nod, taken away by the sound of it. I wasn’t sure if how he made me feel was normal – if it was, it really didn’t seem like it.

“So,” he started again, moving slightly closer, “Ice cream? Cake? Something?” He chuckled nervously, and rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean…it’s still early…so…” He shrugged, and looked at me through his lashes. I smiled (too largely, might I add) and nodded.

“Ice cream sounds good.”

And so we got into the car and drove off to the ice cream shop where I met his younger brother. He paid, and laughed at me when I pouted, but besides that, we didn’t really speak. We ate in silence, stealing glances at each other, just getting used to each others presence.

And I couldn’t have asked for a better first date.