The clock showed way past midnight as I was still tossing and turning in my bed. What just happened before? Why can’t I get her image out of my head?

This all seemed ludicrous. How could I let such a little thing have such an impact on me? I’ve seen attractive girls before. It’s not like I’ve been blind my whole life and she was the first girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on. And yet, there she was, standing out from the rest like some sort of a glitch in the matrix.

I have always managed to stay oblivious to such situations. Or better said, encounters. There were occasions where I liked a girl, but I never let it affect me in any way. I could shut it out the very second it began. This time it was different. On every level. The more I tried not to think about her, the more she crawled back into my mind, somehow. I guess I still wasn’t skilled enough to be able to shut my mind out like a door, despite all of my training. Realizing that meant I was now being double annoyed.

First reason: there was a girl I apparently liked way more than I should have, given the time.

Second reason: It came to my attention that my defensive mechanisms aren’t as impeccable as I believed they were.

Oh, and I was also annoyed by the fact that it is already late and I have to wake up in the morning, which meant I’ll be all sleepy and looking like shit. And I was annoyed that Adrian will be teasing me again every second he will get the opportunity to. And I was annoyed that I’ll be looking everywhere tomorrow to see her again, while at the same time hoping I won’t see her. Random thought; has that ever occurred to you? Looking for someone, while trying not to meet them? Sure as hell feels...funny, to say the least.

I soon lost count of reasons that made me annoyed. Bottom line was that I was being super-duper-mega-annoyed. And this much annoyance made it even more impossible to fall asleep, so it felt like I’ve fallen into an endless loop. Well, technically speaking not endless, since morning is bound to come sooner or later, but still, it was driving me nuts. It turned out that  being-nuts mood and trying-to-fall-asleep mood weren’t as compatible as one would’ve thought.

I eventually did managed to fall asleep. Not entirely sure at what hour, but it was quite later than the last time I checked the clock. Needless to say I woke up like someone hit me with a sledgehammer. Disoriented, confused and looking whole messed up in general. At first I didn’t even know what day it was. Not just a day, I didn’t even know what time of the year it was. That’s next level confused. After a few seconds (which felt like a nine minute snooze) I managed to compose and gather myself.

And then it hit me.

I dreamt about her. Of course I dreamt about her. My wonderful-yet-sometimes-scumbag brain pulled an impressive prank on me. There really was no need to make things superfluous for me, since I already had her somewhere in the back of my head from the moment I saw her. That said, in-the-back-of-my-head is an understatement, by all means.

“What the hell happened to you? You look as if someone plowed a field using nothing but your semi-handsome face.” Aaron took a dig at me the moment I step in the kitchen.

“So, I’m semi-handsome at best, huh?” I smiled and sat on the chair by the kitchen counter. My eyes felt flamed so I tried and rub it out. No success.

“Yeah. I figured I might as well break it to you now, since you already look like shit. It’s easier to break bad news to someone when they’re already down. I mean, what kind of a monster would say bad things to a person when they are feeling joyful and happy and over-the-rainbow? Let them enjoy their moment of joyfulness and happiness and over-the-rainbowness,” He stopped for a second after saying that, as if he was wondering whether or not rainbowness is even a word, “And tell them bad stuff when they’re already feeling like shit anyways.”

It was hard to dispute such logic so I silently nodded and stuffed my mouth with half a pancake.

“So, yeah, you’re semi-handsome. Sorry, buddy.” He said, leaned on the counter and gave me a big smile, with a cloth resting over his right shoulder, as usual when he was doing stuff in the kitchen.

“Well,” I replied, swallowing that half a pancake in my mouth with more trouble than I accounted for, “Not everyone can be as handsome as you, right?”

He stood up straight, his finger pointing towards me.

“You’re goddamn right.”

“Which begs the question,” I answered straight away, looking right and left over my shoulder, “Where your bitches at?”

He burst into laughter, with his finger pointing and shaking towards me as if he was saying ‘nice one, kiddo’.

I, too, started laughing after that. We normally watched our tongues, but since Nicholas was still asleep we could afford bit of an explicit language.

“As much as I’ve enjoyed this, and trust me, I had, it’s time for me to say goodbye, unfortunately.” Aaron picked up my plate from the counter and put it in the washing machine. I was looking frantically for my coat, apparently still being a bit disoriented and confused. I should’ve left, like, ten minutes ago or so. I might as well ease up a bit, since I was going to be late regardless.  

“Have you seen my coat, by any chance?”

“It’s on the coat hanger, where coats are supposed to be, remember?”

Right.

“Thanks, Aaron. Later,” I said, took my coat and rushed out the door. I could barely hear him say ‘drive slow’ and something about roads being frozen and such as the door were closing behind me. I better step up if I don’t want to be late a bunch. So much about my might-as-well-ease-up-a-bit-since-i-was-going-to-be-late-regardless approach. Guess I still lacked a bit more of that bad boy attitude. Whatever, why was I even still thinking about that? I was now seriously late already.

It turned out that my beemer can be quite fast when called upon. It took me only half as much time as it usually did. Approximately. Nevertheless, I still missed first few minutes of the class.

“I apologize for my late arrival, ms. Jackson, my tire blew up along the way.” Damn, that was lame. Is that the best I can come up with in such situations? I’m really not much of a liar.

“It’s alright, Nate, take a seat.”

Since that was (probably) the first time I arrived late, ms. Jackson hasn’t paid much attention to it. I guess you gain a bit of credit along the years, if you’re being non-problematic. I seriously doubt she’d let Adrian off the hook as easily as she did me.

“Dude,” Adrian whispered the second I sat down beside him, “What the fuck? This is the first time ever you came late to class. I already thought you got abducted by aliens, or some shit.”

I laughed at him, “Well, that escalated quickly. I’ll tell you all about it later. And no, my tire didn’t blew up along the way. Now shush, I already spent my credit for today.”

Adrian shook his head a bit, wanting to say something back, but eventually kept quiet, when he saw ms. Jackson gazing sternly in our direction.

“So, mind telling me what happened?” Adrian asked impatiently as we were about to sit down in the cafeteria.

I was pondering around a bit, whether or not I should tell him the truth, but then I figured I have to tell him. I mean, if I won’t confide in Adrian, who will I ever confide in? And not confiding in anyone, ever, sounds terribly ill-advised.

“I don’t know what the hell happened yesterday,” I eventually started, still feeling a bit hesitantly, however, “But I couldn’t get Jamie out of my head. I slept for, like, couple of hours at best.”

He made that ‘ooooohhh’ expression, realizing why I looked the way I had.

“And I felt stupid - i still do - for letting it happen to me. Who does that?” I asked, almost vigorously, “Who sees a girl for the first time and let’s it affect him in such  profound way?” This time it was I who had a weird grimace on his face.

He got a big smile across his cheeks, “This is not something you would ‘let it’ happen to you, silly. It just happens. It’s called ‘having a crush’. Ever heard of it?”

What? Was that what this was? Did I got a crush on her?

“A crush?” I asked dubious, “How can you get a crush from a single look?” I suddenly felt all inadequate, like I have no idea how life works.

Truth be told, I actually had no idea how getting-a-crush-from-a-single-look or falling-in-love things worked. So, maybe, I was entirely inadequate when it comes to such topics. And I have never been inadequate in any topic, so I felt almost ashamed by the whole situation. Good thing it was just him and I. I suppose it’s not the worst thing it could happen to you, feeling ashamed when having a discussion about a topic you have no idea about, with your best friend, right?  

“That’s why it’s called ‘a crush’. Because it hits you. Suddenly. Without a warning. Now,” he leaned backwards, apparently feeling all relaxed and at ease (unlike me), his food still intact on a plate, which was a first, “To be completely honest with you, it never happened to me. But I know a bunch people to whom it had. So you don’t have to feel bad for yourself. As you said to me: just roll with it, man.”

Yeah, roll with it. Sounds brilliant.

“Roll with it how? As in enjoy-that-crush-of-yours-and-what-happens-happens? Or as in go-and-talk-to-her? Or as in don’t-even-pay-attention-to-it? Or as in maybe-somehow-magically-she-will-get-a-crush-on-you-as-well-and-everything-will-be-perfect? Or as in,...” at that point I ran out of or-as-in questions so I just swinged my hand, irked by my continuing over reaction of the whole situation.

“Don’t know.”

Well, that was an unfazed response, if I ever seen one.

“Just...do whatever feels right to you, you know?” he continued after a second or two. And no, I don’t know. How could I? I wouldn’t be asking and overreacting if I knew.

I closed my eyes and started rubbing my forehead, with words ‘what the fuck?” looping inside my mind. Not as a response to his advice, but more as an assessment of everything that happened in the past 24 hours or so.

Just as I opened my eyes and blurriness of my vision started to slowly fade away, I saw her by the trays.

There.

She.

Was.

My heart skipped a beat so hard I could feel the following beat inside my head. A very strong one. And many of them. Blood rushed into my head faster than when I saw boobs for the first time. Perhaps a bit unorthodox comparison, but I was unable to think of a smarter one, given the situation.

Adrian saw me gawking in her direction. He just smiled and kept quiet, probably letting me enjoy the moment without interruptions.

Even after she left a couple of moments later, I still needed sizable amount of time to return back to reality. Yep, no doubt about it, I had a crush on her alright.

“Sweet mother of God,” I started eventually, after oxygen cells managed to penetrate my glitched brain membrane and successfully reboot them, “Is this real life?”

Adrian’s smile evolved into laughter by that point.

“You’re screwed, dude,” he said, oh so wonderfully reassuring, “If you think you had it rough last night just wait ‘till tonight.”

He sure tried to make me feel even more miserable.

“I don’t like it. Having a crush. Seems awfully impractical.”

“Yeah,” Adrian replied after a while, probably thinking about Jessie, “It’s a tough racket.”

I felt absolutely elated when seeing Jamie, which only meant it sucked so much more when she went away. And I wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that. Is it better to have one straight line, sort of a safe zone, or is it better to have such extreme ups and downs?

“I can’t help but wonder,” I restarted the conversation after failing to come to a conclusion about safe zones and ups and downs, “If you also find her as gorgeous as I do, how come you never made a move on her?”

That was a legit question. Adrian Grant, a guy who, at some point in high school, made a move on just about anyone who’s chromosomes differentiated from his, never made a move on Jamie, a girl that is supposed to be stunning and beautiful and gorgeous and striking and just about perfect in too many ways.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” He said that in such a way it almost made me feel stupid. As if I missed something everyone else knew.

“Let me break it down to you, mr. Oblivious.” He corrected his posture, leaned forward, eyes sharp, elbows resting on the table. I was in for a lecture. Of sorts.

“Here you have random girls,” he began, with his hand pointing just above floor, “Here you have ‘ok’ girls,” his hand moved up a bit, “Here you have cute girls,” his hand at about head level, “Here you have hot girls, such as Lisa Carpenter or Maggie Johnson,” his hand stretched up. I could agree though, Lisa and Maggie definitely were among the hottest at our school. Anyway, back to the topic at hand.

“And here,” he said a bit louder, pointing towards ceiling with his finger, “Is where Jamie Robertson is, who, I believe, is just about too beautiful for this scumbag world. I, however, like to identify myself as more of a this type of a guy.” His hand was somewhere between his head and full-stretched-arm. So he was better-than-cute-but-not-quite-hot? Seemed about fitting, I suppose. Also, her last name is Robertson, apparently. Good to know.

“So, mr. Oblivious, you get the picture now?” What was with that ‘mr.Oblivious’ all of a sudden? And yes, I did get the picture.

“Even if it seems unlikely, and you might laugh at it a bit, but I do have a bit of a self-respect, regardless. So, out of the respect for her and out of the respect for myself, I preserved myself from making a move, thus avoided becoming a Don Kihot.”

I smiled back at him, sincerely, thinking how he has life figured out much better than I do. At least in that social-and-love-life category.

“You, however,” he continued without taking a pause, “Could have a shot at mrs.Perfect.”

Seriously, what was with all those adjectives instead of names?

“What makes you think that way?”

“Your face.” he answered, “You’re one handsome fucker, you just haven’t realized that yet.”

Was I? Maybe I did have the tendency to sell myself a bit short.

“I don’t know, Adrian. Even if I am handsome, I’m sure as hell not Jamie-Robertson-type-of handsome.”

“And you don’t have to be,” he said, once again leaning a bit forward, “No one is, while we’re at it. But, you’re the handsomnest guy at this school. And I think that oughta do it. Besides, I’ve noticed her noticing you.”

What? Her noticing me? When? Where? Why?

“You mean most handsome?”

“Yeah, whatever. Point is, if you won’t make a move I will definitely bitch slap you ‘till you come to your senses.”

Ouch.

“So, what’s it gonna be, mr.Oblivious?”

I swear to God, if he calls me mr.Oblivious one more time I will be the one bitch slapping him!

“I don’t know, Adrian. I’m so inexperienced with those things. I mean, what should I even do? Should I facebook her? Text her? Just walk up to her and start babbling about random stuff?”

I really had no idea how to approach that. That was still just a hypothetical conversation, though, I was far from decided about anything.

“Whatever suits you best. And, before you get all upset with your I-don’t-know-what-suits-me-best-since-I-never-approached-any-girl-whom-I-had-a-crush-on reply,” I was just about to get upset with an exact reply. Kudos to you, Adrian, “Let me just say that there is no ‘safest way’. I’ve approached dozens of girls and it was always different. I mean, not always different, since there are only that many ways you can approach a girl, but, you get the picture. Sometimes it was at a party, sometimes it was on facebook, sometimes it was texting, sometimes I just simply walked up to a girl at school and introduced myself, et cetera, et cetera.”

Ok, so there were options. That calmed me down a bit. For a second or so.

“Still. What if she, like, I don’t know, laughs me off or something?”

“So?” his laughter changed into a frustrated one, “Who cares? Still better than not trying. And, just for the record, she won’t laugh you off. You can be sure of that.”

The prospect of being laughed off by Jamie Robertson seemed quite terrifying. The prospect of not ever talking to Jamie Robertson, however, felt a lot more terrifying. Horrid, even.

“Yeah, I suppose you got a point there,” I eventually admitted. A bit hesitantly, since I didn’t like it too much when he was right, but I did so nonetheless.

“Just, don’t expect me to meet her straight away or anything of a like.”

“Ha-ha,” he almost shouted, “Like I would ever in my sane mind expect you, Nathaniel Hatchell, to go and introduce yourself to a girl just because I said so.”

“What was that before? You noticing her noticing me or something like that?” I felt kind of coy asking that, but the curiosity got the better of me.

“Oh, yeah, that. Well, the other day, while you were too busy observing nothing, as usual, I noticed her noticing you, when we were standing in the cafeteria line and she walked by. Not that ‘I only looked at you because you’re in my eye sight’ kind of notice, but more like ‘now, what do we have here?’ kind of way. It was quite apparent, the reason why she looked at you.”

Listening to his words made my pulse pace up a bit. It was also one of those things you could hear over and over again and never get tired of.

“How come you said nothing at the time?” I kept digging. Perhaps there was another treasure to be found.

“I don’t know. It all happened fast. It’s not like she was standing there, motionless, dissecting you with her 20/20 vision.” There were no more treasures to be found, as it seemed. Still, was worth the try.

“She has a 20/20 vision?”

He dropped his head into his palm, “I swear, Nate, your questions give me measles sometimes. Of course I don’t know what her vision is like. Why do you even care what her vision is?”

I suddenly cared about everything and anything that was even remotely related to Jamie Robertson. So, yeah, if she had a 20/20 vision I’d like to know, thank you very much.

I silently shrugged my shoulders, still thinking if she had or did not had a 20/20 vision. I had a 20/20 vision. Maybe that could be conversation starter. Ice breaker. Mountain mover. Miracle maker.

No. Come on, Nathaniel, get your act together. You weren’t going to start off your conversation with Jamie Robertson (should that ever happen) discussing her vision and telling her that you, too, in fact, have a 20/20 vision, what a crazy coincidence. What’s next? Asking her to come with you to lung capacity measurement so that you can see if perhaps you also have a matching lung volume? That oughta make her rapturous, right? God, you might as well give up now.

I checked the time. Lunch break is about to be over. Despite being all ecstatic talking about Jamie I still felt a bit guilty for not asking him how he was doing.

“So, Adrian, how are you and Jessie holding up?” I kept on adjusting my wrist watch. It suddenly felt disruptively, regardless how I positioned it. I hated whenever that happened. For most of the  time I couldn’t even feel the wrist watch on my skin, but when I did, it suddenly felt like the most disruptive thing. Something like when you realize that you can see your nose all the time and then it suddenly feels like you can’t not see it anymore and you are doomed forever, because, let’s face it, how can you ever even remotely look at something without distractions, if your nose is right there in your eye sight? That is, until you get distracted with something else and you forget about the oh-i-can-see-my-nose-all-the-frigging-time problem.

“Still adjusting, I suppose, whatever that means.” He was looking out the window as if he was observing something, though there was nothing there. And I could tell if there were anything. Because I had a 20/20 vision. I suppose he was just gazing outside without a particular reason.

“I don’t want to screw this up, because I came to a realization that Jessie is actually quite wonderful. And too good for me. And I don’t want to hurt her. And I probably will, because this is me who we are talking about. And it makes me feel like shit.”

“Then don’t.”

“Then don’t what?” He stopped looking into nothingness and directed his eyes towards me instead.

“Don’t hurt her. Don’t screw up.”

“Yeah,” he exhaled a large amount of air with a sarcastic smile on his face, “Because it’s just like that.”

“Well, isn’t it? I mean, nobody is making you hurt her. Nobody is telling you to screw this up. It seems to me you hold all the cards. So, you know, just don’t screw up. Don’t hurt her.”

Maybe I was once again missing out something obvious, something everybody else knew, and it, indeed, wasn’t easy not screwing up if you were Adrian, but at that particular moment it all seemed to me pretty easy and straightforward.

“Of course nobody is making me hurt her,” he answered almost a bit annoyed, “It’s just that I know myself and there wasn’t a single girl so far I haven’t screwed over at some point.”

It looked to me he was more irritated by himself, than by what I’d said.

“So, that’s your excuse?” I asked after a few seconds, this time I being the one who was irritated, “Because that’s just who you are? So, if I got this straight, you’re gonna keep on screwing things up, mostly for yourself, not for them, because ‘Hey, that’s just who I am, you know’? This sounds stupid and lazy and irresponsible.”

He smiled and turned his look outside the window again. Again observing what appeared to be nothing.

“You might have a point there. Maybe I am just stupid and lazy and irresponsible,” hearing him repeat my words suddenly made me feel like shit. I should’ve thought it through, before speaking,  “But I prefer being realistic, and to me this seems as a most realistic scenario.”

I suddenly felt bad for him. It was sad seeing someone with such tendencies towards fucking things up.

“I think you’re gonna do alright this time. She strikes me as a type of girl who has what it takes to keep those useless tendencies of yours in check. Just, try and not think about it and focus on the good things instead.”

“Wow,” he said and once again switched his gaze towards me, with a smile on his face that appeared a lot more buoyant than the one before, “You actually managed to assemble a half-decent advice. I’m giving a little plus next to “Nathaniel Hatchell” in my notepad.”

He had a notepad with names in it and ran a little record of pluses and minuses? Ok, I’d understand he needed a notepad for all the women he’d been dating, but why was I in it? Did he, at any point, had a purpose of dating me? I quickly tried to change such unpleasant thoughts with more pleasant ones. ‘Fast cars, hot chicks, video games, money,...’. Yeah, much better.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d given a me big plus, since I just about saved your life right there,” I jabbed at him, jokingly.

He smiled and stood up. Class was about to begin.

As we were walking down the hallways silently, he put his hand over my right shoulder, letting me know he appreciated my good intent.