 |
| Photo by vjapratama from Pexels |
“That’s it! I’m done! I’m done.”
“What now.” My roommate Brandon put down his book and turned in my direction.
"I'm done. I'm not asking her again. Doctor's appointment, coffee with her friends, write a paper, study for a test, has to work. That's seven days running. I'm done." I flung my books onto my bed and flopped into my chair. “I’m done.”
“Good. Now we can stop hearing about her.”
“Shut up.”
Brandon ignored my sighs and moans until I gave up and started working on my
theology paper. The opening paragraph was done when the phone rang.
“Hello.
Pete’s Pizza, can we help you?…Yeah, he’s here, hang on…It’s for you.”
Hanging me the phone Brad started giggling and sat down to watch.
“Hello,” I said into the phone, “This is Bill.”
“Hey, its Joy. I was wondering if you were busy. I need to go to Walgreens to get some toothpaste. Want to go with me?”
“Sure, I’ll be right down.” Hanging up the phone I turned as Brandon fell off his bed with laughter.
“SHUT UP!”
“I’m done, I’m done,” he gasped between breaths.
“Shut up,” I replied and slammed the door behind me as I left the room.
The
walk to Walgreens was the shortest walk of my life. I had barely said
hello and fallen in step next to Joy when we arrived at the store. A
tube of toothpaste and a pack of gum later I dropped her in front of her
dorm. She did a little wave as she walked through the front door.
When I staggered into work at six o’clock the next morning my crew was waiting for me.
“Did you hold her hand?”
“What?” I was trying to get the paper chef’s hat to stay on my head.
“Did…you…hold…her…hand.” Sam’s smile split his face from ear to ear.
“No. What?’ Six o’clock in the morning is not the best time to be holding conversations.
“With
Joy, on your date to Walgreens. Do we have to explain everything to
you?” Mike put his head down and shook it back and forth.
“It wasn’t a date, she just needed to go to the store. You know. Aren’t we doing pancakes or something?”
“Jason’s got it covered. Tell us about the date. Did your fingers brush?” Mike wiggled the tips of his fingers together.
“It wasn’t a date.”
“That’s not what Brandon said,” Jason called from across the kitchen.
“I’m gonna kill him.”
It
was just my luck that Joy was also scheduled to work. Someone had to
work the serving line keeping the food trays full and the kitchen guys
were so considerate in letting me do it.
“Hey. Did you like the toothpaste?” My opening line of the day was brilliant.
“What?” She slopped a serving of scrambled eggs on some poor guy’s plate and threw a pancake in his general direction.
“The toothpaste you bought yesterday.” I was committed at this point so I forged ahead.
“Yeah. Sure. It was toothpaste.”
A
noise by the swinging doors leading into the kitchen pulled my
attention away from her. Sam was making kissing motions with his lips
behind the little windows. Reaching over I none to gently pushed the
door into his face.
“You doing anything tonight?” I asked with what I hoped sounded like nonchalance and not desperation.
“No,
not really.” She glared at the guy who rejected the pancake she was
holding up with the serving tongs. “It’s a pancake, no different from
any other. Take it.”
“Wanna…”
I panicked. The little Bill in charge of female relations inside my
head was yelling at me to say something. The other little Bill’s were
running around trying to think of a suitable activity we could do. Bad
little Bill was making kissing sounds. “Wanna play basketball?”
All the little Bills gasped and fell on the floor. I feared their yells were audible.
“What?
Basketball?…That’s the dumbest thing…Why doesn’t he listen to us?…The
zoo, volleyball, coffee, a movie, out for fries — all better
options…Basketball?…sigh.”
“Sure.
You know I played in high school right?” She did a keep moving gesture
to the co-ed who was trying to get a third piece of bacon.
“Yeah, I think you mentioned it.” Damn it! I played viola in high school, I was screwed.
“Can you get more pancakes?’
“Sure, be right back.”
When I walked through the doors Mike made a basketball shooting motion.
“Nice move. Not the worst thing you could suggest.”
“Yes
it is,” Sam jumped in,. “Coffee would have been better. If he beats
her, she’ll get mad. And if he loses, he lost to a girl. Coffee would
have been better.”
That
evening, after thirty minutes we were tied. We each had won one game.
Joy now claims she gave me the first one in an act of pity. Taking the
ball to half court she looked at me and grinned.
“I
need to study. Tell you what. If I make a shot from here, I win. If
not, we keep going.” She dribbled the ball in front of her and wiggled
her eyebrows.
“Sure,
but if you miss than we get to do something tomorrow night that doesn’t
involve sweating.”
Why would I say that? The female relations little
Bill was ganged tackled by the other little Bills.
“Deal.”
She
dribbled one more time, held the ball in front of her and heaved with
every muscle in her body. The ball flew through the air, taking its
sweet time to arrive at the basket. When it finally did, it bounced off
the backboard, hit the front of the rim and bounced straight up. I
glanced at her. Her eyes were wide open and the tip of her tongue stuck
out between her teeth. A few strands of hair were stuck in the sweat on
her face. She glowed.
The
ball went straight up and dropped down through the basket. She threw
both arms above her head
and wiggled everything she could wiggle.
“HA! I win! You lose!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Lucky shot.” I smiled at her and held out my hand.
She
slapped it and headed out of the gym. I watched her leaving and my
breath hitched when she skidded to a stop and turned around.
“What are we doing tomorrow? I heard about a coffee house on State St. we could walk to after
work…If you aren’t busy.”
“Yeah, that’d be great.”
“OK. It’s a date. See ya later.”
Comments
Post a Comment