Awkward

“Jonathan,” my mother smiled at me, “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I smiled at her.

She shook her head and gave me her motherly smile, “Oh mon gentil garcon, je sais quand mes fils ont quelque chose sur leur esprit, maintenant dites-moi, qui est-elle? (Oh my sweet boy, I know when my sons have something on their mind, now tell me, who is she?)

I jerked my head up to stare at her. I don’t know why it surprised me that my mother could read us like a book, but it always did. “How’d you know it was a girl?”

“The look in your eyes,” she ruffled my hair and then smoothed it out, “The smile on your lips. Now, tell me about her,” she always got excited if I ever even mentioned a female.

“Her name is Brooke Caldwell. She teaches history somewhere in Chicago. She’s funny, nice, she cares about people…”

“What does she look like?” my mom smiled at me.

“Beautiful,” I sighed and leaned back in my chair, “Long brown hair, these big hazel eyes,” I looked at my mom, “I met her when I was Christmas shopping the other day, ran right into her and we both dropped everything,” I chuckled, “I even managed to break the perfume she was going to buy.”

“She sounds wonderful bien aime. If she brings that kind of a smile to your face, then she has to be great.”

I looked down, “I think I already screwed it up.”

“Why?”

“I invited her to the game the other night and we went out afterwards. While her and her
friend were waiting for us she talked with Abby Sharp. Abby said she would see her after the holiday and the Viktor asked her friend to the team Christmas party on the 28th,” I paused, “I…I just couldn’t figure out a way to ask her after that. I was thinking about it, but he put me on the spot and I choked. Her friend kind of rubbed it in too, but I don’t think she meant to. I feel like an idiot, like I hurt her feelings.”

“Well, if she thinks of you the same way that you do her, then yes she probably was upset Jon. What’s wrong with just asking her?”

“I don’t know,” I groaned, “I just feel like a thirteen year old around a lot of women, especially her. For Christ’s sake, I tripped going onto the ice before warm ups the other night, right in front of her. I almost fell over a bench while we were shopping too; I’m so fucking awkward.”

“Language,” my mother stared at me, “Maybe she thinks it’s cute? Maybe you make her nervous? Or maybe it’s a good sign that you feel like that around her,” she winked at me, “Your father still makes me nervous sometimes.”

“There’s no way I make her nervous. She makes fun of me every time I do something like that,” I shook my head, “She probably thinks I’m a freak.”

“Your father tried to park the truck on our first date, he hit the car in front of us,” she told me, “I thought it was adorable, annoying because of the other driver, but adorable.”

I laughed, “At least I haven’t done that…yet.”

“I suggest just asking her, she probably would be excited to go with you.”

“That’s another thing,” I looked at her, “I...I’m not 100% sure if I can trust that she likes ME and not what I can do or give her.”

“Go out on a limb son. I know it’s hard and I would love to background check and mother approve every girl you speak to just to save you from women like that, but I can’t and you can never be too sure yourself until you give it a shot. If she is one of those girls then you can end it, just be careful and…”

She was cut off by my phone vibrating on the counter:

Allison says Brooke is having a bad time at home. Just thought I would let you know, maybe you can score some brownie points since you dropped the ball.

“Who is that?”

“Viktor just texted me saying that her friend told him Brooke wasn’t having a good time at home.”

“Text her or call her, if she sounds happier after talking with you, she’s worth giving a shot.”

Later that afternoon I texted Brooke:

How’s it going?

She replied:

I’m annoyed, but nothing I can’t handle. How’s your day?

I sent her a message back:

It’s good. My brother couldn’t make it so it’s quiet. I haven’t tripped today either.

Brooke was probably going to laugh at that, at least I hoped she would.

LMFAO! That’s good! I’m proud. I ran into the counter earlier, I think you’re wearing off on me Toes.

I laughed at that, causing my parents to give me funny looks.

I have that effect on women ;). I hope you didn’t get hurt.

She texted me a minute later:

You have some kind of effect on women alright LOL. I actually think I have a bruise on my hip now.

I texted her back quickly:

Anyone around to kiss it and make it feel better?

That was something I normally wouldn’t say unless I was actually dating the girl or at least seeing her, but not being face to face with Brooke gave me more confidence. I think it was due to the fact that I wasn’t falling over my feet or stumbling over my sentences like I did when she was near me.

No :(. I don’t think I know anyone who would be nice enough to do that for me.

This was a big moment for me, a big text message that could tell her exactly how I felt or could blow up in my face. I went for it though:

I know a guy who would. He would make sure that bruise didn’t hurt anymore…probably after he gave himself a broken arm by falling over a table or something.

Brooke didn’t reply for a few minutes so I figured I went too far. I was trying to think how I could make up for the forward, semi-awkward text, when I got a response:

Is it the same guy who fell in front of the entire United Center and a crowd of people at the mall? Because if it is, he should know that it’s pretty adorable how clumsy he is…even if it is wearing off on me and causing me physical pain. I think he does owe me.

I blushed and actually giggled as I typed out another text:

It is the same exact guy, how did you know? And how does he owe you?

After I sent that I got a picture message from her of her a tiny bruise on her hip bone that said, “Ouchie :(.”

I sent her a sad face right before she responded to my other message:

Because his klutziness is wearing off on me. I don’t care how good looking he is and how cute the awkward thing is, my hip hurts LOL. But the kiss could definitely help.

I blushed again because she complimented me and I didn’t handle those well unless they were because of hockey.

Tell you what, the day you get back let me know and I’ll come over.

Again, she took longer than I wanted for her to answer, this time it wasn’t until I was getting into bed that she responded:

Sorry, the fam required my presence. Won’t your family still be in town?

They would, but they would understand completely:

They’ll understand. I want to see you, I think they know that.

I waited a minute and then sent another message:

I don’t want to sound like a creep, but I like you.

I really didn’t want to push anything or start something neither of us were prepared for, but I wanted her to at least know that I was thinking about her and wanted to see her.

I want to see you too.

It was a simple statement, but it meant the world to me and made me want to climb out of bed, drive to LaSalle, all just to give us what we both wanted. Instead, I just smiled like a fool and sent another message:

So, can I see you? We can go to dinner, a movie, hang out at your place, you can come over here and I can kick my parents out, anything? I’d even be willing to go back to Water Tower Place if you really wanted to…

I was probably going to scare her away with that text, but I hoped she understood or felt the same way.

No malls! Anywhere that’s far away from Michigan Ave is fine with me. I like you, but I don’t like you enough to go near that place for a while :P.

I laughed:

Thank God! So, dinner?

Brooke texted me back:

Sounds good. I’ll let you know when I get back into the city.

After exchanging a few more texts and telling each other to have good Christmases, our conversation ended.