thereâ€™s the boy who seems to maybe like me backâ€”he calls me back to his room (weâ€™re working in his house, and Iâ€™ve been vigilantly professional) and asks me if I find him attractive, and I begin to crumble and quake insideâ€”the possibility, the terrorâ€”so much, I say, itâ€™s killing meâ€”and then Iâ€™m biting the clothesline that hangs before me. he says, I wondered if we might try something. he looks awkward and avoids meeting my eye. you can just say no if it seems weird or whatever to you. and I think, here it isâ€”the moment of truth. and I say, okay, trying to keep my voice steadyâ€”it could really go either wayâ€”and then I wake up, and itâ€™s lost, unreconciled. and Iâ€™ll never know what he was going to suggest.
Iâ€™m with thisbe, and sheâ€™s showing me something online which involves the guy she has a crush onâ€”and then suddenly there he is, on the screen, seeing us backâ€”and weâ€™re both embarrassed and thrilled, giddy and suddenly regressing to adolescenceâ€”and I gesture that thisbe loves himâ€”and sheâ€™s gesturing something equivalent about me, I notice, right after I question the kindness or wisdom of spilling these beansâ€”and Iâ€™m overwhelmed by how childish weâ€™re both being and fall away from the computer. nothing good or real seems bound to come from this.