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That moment it
seemed like I was locked under his prison, and held the key for release. His
voice was like music to my already musical ears. His name felt like velvet
against the root of my mouth, kind of like I was eating the world’s most
richest chocolate. I was probably staring at him the way the animals stared at
their prey, kind of like I was willing him to say more. I probably was also
creeping him out. My mind went blank, and I just focused completely and totally
on him.
“So”, he said, as
he finally took the plunge and broke the awkward silence. It was probably too
awkward for either of us to bear. “Have you played the flute for very long?”
I nodded. “Yup,
since third grade,” I said, as I looked down at my tiny instrument. “How about
you? Have you played the clarinet for very long?”
“Since I was
five”, he said.
“Why the
clarinet?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation going.
“Because my mom
wanted me to play the flute, but my dad thought that it was way too girly of an
instrument. So, the clarinet was a compromise.”
“Was it?”
“Not really.”
“You don’t like to
play the clarinet?” I asked. I was shocked, because he gave off the vibe as a
clarinet expert.
“For a while, yes.
I loved it. But, I can’t wait until high school is over so I can sell this thing
and buy a car.”
I looked at him
skeptically. “You really think that a clarinet would be worth the same as a
car?”
He chuckled. “Yes.
Well a used car, or a car that was driven very little by an old lady whose
license has been removed, and she wants to get rid of her car for some pocket
change. Probably for cab or bus fare.”
“Money for a car
is pocket change?”
“To a rich old
lady, yes.”
“Oh so now she’s
rich?”
“Yeah. Didn’t you
know that?”
“No.”
“I guess that I
should be more specific in my examples then.”
“I guess you
should be.”
Before our flirty
banter could continue, our no-nonsense band director sauntered into the band
room. Needless to say he stomped all over my chances of getting to know this
all too perfect stranger.
For a couple of
weeks, our flirty banters continued. And then, after band, I would play back
each and every word spoken by the two of us to my best friend Daphne. During
both of those, I wondered would he ask me out? But, he didn’t, which was the
agony of almost every teenage girl who was in love with someone who probably
was none the wiser.
One Friday after
school, I saw him getting his clarinet out of his band locker for the weekend.
Coming from geometry, my head was already topsy-turvy and I didn’t want to get
into more confusion than I already was in.
“Hey Kitty Cat”,
he said, smiling.
“Hey”, I said,
trying to sound cool.
“Do you have a
moment? I wanted to ask you something.”
My heart began to
race, and I felt weird, tingly. There was nothing more nerve wrecking than
having your crush say those worlds, because they could mean just about anything.
“Yeah sure”, I
said, trying to sound even cool and chill than I did before. Now, it was more
of an effort. My palms began to sweat. What could he possibly have to ask me, I
wondered.
“I was wondering
if you liked to go to the football game next week with me?” he asked.
“Sure”, I said,
failing at hiding my smile. It’s always a good thing when your crush asks you
if you want to hang out. Even when you have no idea what kind of hanging out
session it’s going to be? Is it going to be as friends? Or is it a date? The
choices were so broad. I tried to hide my excitement, and have it bottled up.
But still, I felt like at any moment, I was going to explode.
“Cool”, he said.
He too was grinning. “Do you like pizza?”
“Yes, I like
pizza.”
“Good. Would you
be down to get some after?”
“Sure”, I said.
“Great. Can I have
your number?”
“Sure”, I said.
Clearly, I couldn’t find any other words.
He pulled out a
black iPhone, and I punched my number in.
“I’ll text you
later so that way you can have mine”, he said.
I nodded. I tried
not to smile too much or look too overeager. But I still wanted to show him
that I was very much looking foreword to this date. It was a hard thing to try
to muster both. Of course, I wanted to jump up and down. But that would be
saved for later, when I met up with Daphne to relive the events that just
happened.
“I’ll look foreword
to receiving your text at some point”, I said. ‘God, I sound stupid’, I
thought.
“I look foreword
to texting you at some point”, he said, as he smiled even more than I did. He
had really nice teeth-very white, shiny, and perfectly straight.
“Hey can I ask you
something?” I asked. I had to do this quickly, before I lost all of my nerve.
“Is this going to
be a date?” I asked. It was way too blunt and direct for it to be me.
“Well, let’s see.
It’s Friday night, and I’m planning to wear lots of hair gel, smell really
good, and wear something that will make you unable to stop thinking about me. I
also am planning to pay for the pizza, in addition to the game tickets. Does
this sound like a date to you? I think it does.”
I nodded, smiling.
It’s always a good thing when your crush asks you out on a date. It was a
pretty much safe bet that he liked you just as much or even more than you liked
them.
“It’s a date”, I
said.
He kissed my on my
forehead. “I am looking foreword to having the privilege to going out on a date
with you, Miss Cathleen O’Connor”.
“I am too”, I
said, as I struggled to catch my breath.
He just grabbed
his clarinet, and I just stood there, unable to move, but suddenly had the
unsual desire to do a lot of cartwheels.
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