Short Stories

Shampoo

Lather

Start out by going out with a girl who fits your type to a "T" freshman year. Do it by the book. Get a mutual best friend to introduce you. Flirt a lot. Hang out so much it becomes a matter of when and not if. Ask her out with an IOU on the last day of school before vacation. Go places. Movies, school dances, band concerts, wherever. Take the express bus home together every day.

Don't make a move on her because you're all keyed up and want it to be perfect. Then dump her after three months because you're bored from not moving beyond the "holding hands and hugging stage."

Don't talk to each other sophomore year. Don't invite her to your Confirmation (Jew-style) because she "forgot" to invite you to her Sweet Sixteen. Bitch. Find out the football team has lost all respect for you because your ex-girl is a "man". It's because she's the one of the best soccer players in the city. You think it's cool. They're just jealous because she can (and has) waxed them in any sport.

Junior year, chill in your math class with a friend from the football team. On the third day, watch a transfer enter the class. Raise your eyebrows in pleased surprise when you notice it's your ex. Mentally catalogue today as a good day when she sits a seat up and left of you. Mark tomorrow as a really good day when, before finalizing seats, the teacher randomly switches her next to you.

Take advantage. Flirt a lot (Sound familiar?). Get "confused" about how to do problems so you can "help" each other. Make fun of the teacher's wig when she switches it over the winter break and pretends nothing changed.

Call your now wanna-be girl every other day at least. To the point where her parents recognize your voice. Chill all the time. Go to three school dances together. Hang out and flirt so blatantly people assume you're back together. You included.

Don't make a move because you're not technically going out and you want things to be official first. 7 months into it, resolve yourself to asking her. Make a deal out of the fourth dance.

Rinse

Make a plan. It's a half day. She's wearing the "ass pants" she told you she bought and you requested she wear. Go for pizza right after school. Pay for and sit through a two-and-a-half hour chick flick. Refuse repeated attempts at retribution. It's your treat. After the movie, go to the dance. Chill in the beginning and think, "…Yeah."

Weird shit begins to pile up. She won't dance that often because she likes the Spanish stuff, and this DJ is all rap. But when the Spanish stuff is on, she wants to salsa. Picky bitch. Fake your way through it.

Meet up with a few of her soccer buddies about halfway in. Notice she starts to spend less and less time with you. Take a break from dancing and come back to not find her. Look for a good 20 minutes before realizing she's out. Mope. Go chill with some other friends. Think, "Well doesn't that up and suck."

Note when she comes back. Brighten some. She says she took a quick breather. Think, "Fuck you." Say, "It's cool." Dance for a bit. Step off. Find a mutual best friend who's a bit tipsy. Find out she was outside with this guy you kinda know. Bitch. Tell yourself, "Now or never, asshole."

Go back to the dance floor. Pull her to the side, speech prepared. Here goes. Well, in a sec. She's pretty to look at. Okay … now. "Uhmm … Can we talk?" Good start, jerky. "About what?" "Well … us." You'll be hanging on responses. "What about?" You note the rephrase. Cute. "Would you … go out with me?"

Your eyes do that up-and-under puppy dog thing. She shrugs her shoulders and sighs. You hear the answer before it's said. "Awww … I couldn't go out with a good friend like you." Whoa. You weren't hearing all that. Cue awkward moment. "So… Wanna dance?" you say. "Sure."

Suffer through the remaining hour before your dad picks you up. You set this up to even things out for her parents doing the same. You say, "Hi" to Dad and then clam up. You take your side, she gets hers.

The car ride is a death trap. Tension settles in and suffocates the air. She tries to start six conversations. You're all one-word answers. All six attempts die in two exchanges or less. Bitch. Trying to make you talk. You'll "good friend" her.

Sulk when you get home. Mope around a little. Call the mutual best friend. He tells you he and a friend spent the whole train ride home rippin' on her for shitting on their boy. Laugh. He's good at making you do that.

He tells you that when asked, she had previously said she didn't want to get back with you. Say, "Thanks a ton, asshole. Kinda important info, kna'm sayin'?" He says he wanted confirmation to be sure, and now he knows. Jackass.

Hang up and sulk some more. Mentally bitch. Take a shower. Become divinely inspired while washing your hair. Write about it.

Show up on Monday 20 minutes late for first period. The girl across from you in art (who's mightily observant, by the way) says, "You look like shit." Respond, "…And?" It's the phrase of the day. Scream when you hear it.

Repeat

Show up chipper and glowing on Tuesday. "Shit happens" is your new outlook. Take notes in Physics and look up when you see a folded piece of paper land in front of you on the desk. Roll over the note in your hands. Hear a giggle behind you after it takes you more than a minute to figure out where it came from.

Turn around and lay eyes on the most gorgeous girl you've seen to that point in high school. She'll nod in the direction of the paper, and you'll realize its hers. Half-smile, sigh/laugh, and turn around. Open and read the note.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.