willing a movie star to kiss me.
I really don’t know how or why I thought that was going to
work.
“So, do you have a reason to fight, Caroline?”
“I do.” I subtly nod.
“Good.” He drops the tension by stepping away from me, grabs
the strap of his bag, and walks toward the door, without looking back. I’m left
there, in the center of the mat, just wanting. “Then we’ll pick this up
tomorrow.”
“Awesome.” I whisper sarcastically to myself.
“Is something wrong, Caroline?” He calls back over his
shoulder.
“Not at all, Johnny.” And then just to myself: “Not at all.”
I shake off the feeling of utter disappointment, and chase
after him.
“Hey slowpoke.” He teases when I finally catch up.
“First of all, I’m not slow.” I fight, even throwing my
finger up in the air to show him that I have a prepared speech that he’s about
to hear. I’ve learned around him that I need to have all my rebuttals ready to
go.
And by that, I mean that I practice them at home.
“You’re pretty slow.” He laughs.
“Eh, eh, eh!” I shut him up. It’s my turn to talk and I’m
not letting him take that away. “I am not slow. You are just so tall that your
giant behemoth legs cover twice the amount of distance than mine do. So, if you
look at it on a more even scale, the fact that I’m keeping up with you actually
proves that I’m twice as fast as you.”
“So you want to race?” He slyly raises his eyebrow at me.
“No I do not want to race. Where in that monologue of mine
did you hear the slightest notion that I might want to race?”
“So you might want to race?”
He’s playing with me and I know it. And I’m pretty sure he
knows that I know he’s playing with me. And yet, he’s not about to drop it.
“Johnny, no. I’ve been tossed around and choked and pinned
to a mat for ninety minutes. The last thing I want to do is race.
“Well that’s too bad. Ready, set, go!”
Johnny takes off at the speed of light.
I’m getting a flashback to high school, where the cool kids
all challenged me to a race and said if I won, I could be their friend. Not
only did I not win, when I got to the finish line, they dumped chocolate
pudding all over me. Just in case you’re wondering, that stuff is surprisingly
hard to get out of your hair.
That happened again, and again.
Don’t feel bad for me. I should have been smarter than that.
The last time, they actually let me win. But I still didn’t
get to be their friend. What I did get was a pelting of sour patch kids.
Just in case you’re wondering, sour patch kids are also hard
to get out of your hair.
So anyway, that was the flashback, and here I am again,
running a race that I know I can’t win with a popular boy.
As I round the lot, Johnny has completely disappeared from
sight, and I find myself actually fearful that he’s waiting by the trailer with
a bucket of pudding. I’m so fearful, that as I cross the imaginary finish line,
I even brace for impact by covering my head.
“Why are you covering your head?” Johnny raises his eyebrow
at me when I finally look up. He’s not holding pudding, and he’s not holding
sour patch kids. He’s just casually leaning against the trailer, waiting for
me, like an adult. Wow, being an adult is way better.
“High school flashback.” I shy away from continuing by
kicking the ground.
“High school flashback?” He opens the trailer door,
motioning for me to enter.
“Do you not see me kicking the ground right here? That means
I don’t want to elaborate.”
“My mistake.” He throws up his hands as he follows me
inside. “One day I’ll figure out how to read you.”
I turn around to raise my eyebrow right back at him. “You
don’t think you can read me?” I always assumed I was one of those people who
couldn’t hide a thing, an open book. At least Melissa always makes it seem as
so. Hey, maybe my book
I really don’t know how or why I thought that was going to
work.
“So, do you have a reason to fight, Caroline?”
“I do.” I subtly nod.
“Good.” He drops the tension by stepping away from me, grabs
the strap of his bag, and walks toward the door, without looking back. I’m left
there, in the center of the mat, just wanting. “Then we’ll pick this up
tomorrow.”
“Awesome.” I whisper sarcastically to myself.
“Is something wrong, Caroline?” He calls back over his
shoulder.
“Not at all, Johnny.” And then just to myself: “Not at all.”
I shake off the feeling of utter disappointment, and chase
after him.
“Hey slowpoke.” He teases when I finally catch up.
“First of all, I’m not slow.” I fight, even throwing my
finger up in the air to show him that I have a prepared speech that he’s about
to hear. I’ve learned around him that I need to have all my rebuttals ready to
go.
And by that, I mean that I practice them at home.
“You’re pretty slow.” He laughs.
“Eh, eh, eh!” I shut him up. It’s my turn to talk and I’m
not letting him take that away. “I am not slow. You are just so tall that your
giant behemoth legs cover twice the amount of distance than mine do. So, if you
look at it on a more even scale, the fact that I’m keeping up with you actually
proves that I’m twice as fast as you.”
“So you want to race?” He slyly raises his eyebrow at me.
“No I do not want to race. Where in that monologue of mine
did you hear the slightest notion that I might want to race?”
“So you might want to race?”
He’s playing with me and I know it. And I’m pretty sure he
knows that I know he’s playing with me. And yet, he’s not about to drop it.
“Johnny, no. I’ve been tossed around and choked and pinned
to a mat for ninety minutes. The last thing I want to do is race.
“Well that’s too bad. Ready, set, go!”
Johnny takes off at the speed of light.
I’m getting a flashback to high school, where the cool kids
all challenged me to a race and said if I won, I could be their friend. Not
only did I not win, when I got to the finish line, they dumped chocolate
pudding all over me. Just in case you’re wondering, that stuff is surprisingly
hard to get out of your hair.
That happened again, and again.
Don’t feel bad for me. I should have been smarter than that.
The last time, they actually let me win. But I still didn’t
get to be their friend. What I did get was a pelting of sour patch kids.
Just in case you’re wondering, sour patch kids are also hard
to get out of your hair.
So anyway, that was the flashback, and here I am again,
running a race that I know I can’t win with a popular boy.
As I round the lot, Johnny has completely disappeared from
sight, and I find myself actually fearful that he’s waiting by the trailer with
a bucket of pudding. I’m so fearful, that as I cross the imaginary finish line,
I even brace for impact by covering my head.
“Why are you covering your head?” Johnny raises his eyebrow
at me when I finally look up. He’s not holding pudding, and he’s not holding
sour patch kids. He’s just casually leaning against the trailer, waiting for
me, like an adult. Wow, being an adult is way better.
“High school flashback.” I shy away from continuing by
kicking the ground.
“High school flashback?” He opens the trailer door,
motioning for me to enter.
“Do you not see me kicking the ground right here? That means
I don’t want to elaborate.”
“My mistake.” He throws up his hands as he follows me
inside. “One day I’ll figure out how to read you.”
I turn around to raise my eyebrow right back at him. “You
don’t think you can read me?” I always assumed I was one of those people who
couldn’t hide a thing, an open book. At least Melissa always makes it seem as
so. Hey, maybe my book
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