my head against the door. Then I hear something. Cara’s on the other side of the door, and she’s crying.
The next day I wake up feeling like shit. My head hurts and a bout of nausea is churning in the pit of my stomach. I made Cara cry yesterday. What the hell’s wrong with me? I’m becoming a stalker and for me, this is a bit extreme. I try to sit up but lay back down quickly. It feels like I’m running down a dark hallway with no escape. I can’t find the light but need it so desperately.
I hang my legs over the edge of the bed and rub the sleep out of my eyes. Once I can focus, I spot the Robert Frost book on my desk … and groan.
Even taking a shower this morning seems like a huge effort. I soap myself up haphazardly and step out, wrap a towel around my waist and stand in front of the mirror. Dark circles line my eyes. What am I doing? Since when have I ever chased after a friendship … and with a girl no less? Because she understands . I grunt and walk back out into the bedroom, towel-dry my hair and toss some gel in it, throw on my sneakers, black t-shirt and faded blues and stumble downstairs. The kitchen is dark and the digital clock on the microwave reads 7:30. I didn’t realize I was that early, or that anxious.
When I reach the campus parking lot, it’s pretty quiet, the silence broken only by the circular whizzing motion of sprinklers and the lawn mower driven by one of the maintenance employees. On the green, the flowers that sit among the four benches outside of the campus bookstore are being weeded. It’s actually very peaceful this time of day.
I navigate through the campus green and over to the library, push the doors open and scan the room for any sign of Cara. Luckily it’s early and she hasn’t arrived yet. I take the Robert Frost book out of my backpack and place it on the counter with a note that says, “ I’m sorry. Ash ”
I’m almost to my car at the end of the day when I hear a melodic voice behind me. I recognize immediately who it belongs to and my feet come to a screeching halt.
“Hey,” Cara says, her eyes dim as she holds the Robert Frost book tight to her chest. Her dress is wrinkled and her hair’s a careless mess of curls.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look so disheveled and it makes me want to take care of her.
“Hi,” I reply, pushing a hand into my back pocket, grateful that she’s approached me on her own.
She twists a lock of hair around her finger. “Thank you for the book … and … I want to apologize for yesterday. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
“Well, you should be,” I respond with playful sarcasm, a lame attempt at lifting her spirits.
She purses her lips, trying hard not to smile, but I just don’t think she has it in her to stay mad.
I take a step forward and she takes one back. I offer my hand. “So, can we be friends again?”
A smile cracks the corner of her lips. She reaches out and shakes my hand. “Okay … friends.”
The feel of her hand in mine causes every muscle in my body to relax, like I’m finally seeing my first sunrise after several days of darkness.
She spins around to leave. “I’ll see you around, friend.”
“Cara … wait!” The feeling quickly dissipates when she pulls her hand away, leaving me feeling depleted once again.
“Yeah?”
“Well, I wanted to find out if you wanted to … go … get some gooey pizza with me?”
A broad grin pops out of her shapely mouth.
“Hey, now there’s that smile I’ve been missing.”
It disappears as fast as it arrived. “I don’t know, Ash; I should get home.”
“Oh, come on, you said yourself the pizza sounded delicious.” I hone in on her with persuasive hazel eyes and say a few silent prayers.
“Um, okay. I guess I’m kind of hungry.”
Prayers answered. “Great.”
“This is a nice car,” she remarks as I walk around to open the door for her and my intentions are immediately cut off. She waves her hand in the
The next day I wake up feeling like shit. My head hurts and a bout of nausea is churning in the pit of my stomach. I made Cara cry yesterday. What the hell’s wrong with me? I’m becoming a stalker and for me, this is a bit extreme. I try to sit up but lay back down quickly. It feels like I’m running down a dark hallway with no escape. I can’t find the light but need it so desperately.
I hang my legs over the edge of the bed and rub the sleep out of my eyes. Once I can focus, I spot the Robert Frost book on my desk … and groan.
Even taking a shower this morning seems like a huge effort. I soap myself up haphazardly and step out, wrap a towel around my waist and stand in front of the mirror. Dark circles line my eyes. What am I doing? Since when have I ever chased after a friendship … and with a girl no less? Because she understands . I grunt and walk back out into the bedroom, towel-dry my hair and toss some gel in it, throw on my sneakers, black t-shirt and faded blues and stumble downstairs. The kitchen is dark and the digital clock on the microwave reads 7:30. I didn’t realize I was that early, or that anxious.
When I reach the campus parking lot, it’s pretty quiet, the silence broken only by the circular whizzing motion of sprinklers and the lawn mower driven by one of the maintenance employees. On the green, the flowers that sit among the four benches outside of the campus bookstore are being weeded. It’s actually very peaceful this time of day.
I navigate through the campus green and over to the library, push the doors open and scan the room for any sign of Cara. Luckily it’s early and she hasn’t arrived yet. I take the Robert Frost book out of my backpack and place it on the counter with a note that says, “ I’m sorry. Ash ”
I’m almost to my car at the end of the day when I hear a melodic voice behind me. I recognize immediately who it belongs to and my feet come to a screeching halt.
“Hey,” Cara says, her eyes dim as she holds the Robert Frost book tight to her chest. Her dress is wrinkled and her hair’s a careless mess of curls.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look so disheveled and it makes me want to take care of her.
“Hi,” I reply, pushing a hand into my back pocket, grateful that she’s approached me on her own.
She twists a lock of hair around her finger. “Thank you for the book … and … I want to apologize for yesterday. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
“Well, you should be,” I respond with playful sarcasm, a lame attempt at lifting her spirits.
She purses her lips, trying hard not to smile, but I just don’t think she has it in her to stay mad.
I take a step forward and she takes one back. I offer my hand. “So, can we be friends again?”
A smile cracks the corner of her lips. She reaches out and shakes my hand. “Okay … friends.”
The feel of her hand in mine causes every muscle in my body to relax, like I’m finally seeing my first sunrise after several days of darkness.
She spins around to leave. “I’ll see you around, friend.”
“Cara … wait!” The feeling quickly dissipates when she pulls her hand away, leaving me feeling depleted once again.
“Yeah?”
“Well, I wanted to find out if you wanted to … go … get some gooey pizza with me?”
A broad grin pops out of her shapely mouth.
“Hey, now there’s that smile I’ve been missing.”
It disappears as fast as it arrived. “I don’t know, Ash; I should get home.”
“Oh, come on, you said yourself the pizza sounded delicious.” I hone in on her with persuasive hazel eyes and say a few silent prayers.
“Um, okay. I guess I’m kind of hungry.”
Prayers answered. “Great.”
“This is a nice car,” she remarks as I walk around to open the door for her and my intentions are immediately cut off. She waves her hand in the
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