The Crush

         Margot rolls her eyes at me and makes a huffing sound.  Leaning over close to me, she hoarsely whispers,          “Oh go on and do it Chelsea. Good grief! You’re such an EGGO.”

         That’s me, unsure, waffling like an Eggo waffle. Margot and I are sitting in the smoothie shop. I’m sipping a mango miracle and she is sucking down the banana blizzard. We’re people watching and discussing our summer plans.  It’s just a typical Saturday afternoon. Then Paul Schram strides into the smoothie store. I’m so crushing on this boy and I have spent the entire school year making myself look like an idiot whenever he gets near me.

It started mid-way through the school year when Paul Schram stopped by the lunch table to talk to me.  I was in the middle of opening up a ketchup packet and as soon as Paul spoke to me the ketchup packet split in two and squirted ketchup all down my white sweatshirt! Paul tried not to laugh, but he did. I would have laughed too, if it hadn’t been me.

         The next time I looked like a fool was when Paul came up to me outside the movie theatre and asked me if I had change for a $20. I reached into my handbag and, DISASTER, a tampon fell out and landed at his feet! Margot clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from squealing. I turned red as a beet and wanted to melt into the sidewalk. Paul Schram was completely clueless until one of his buddies whispered in his ear. He started looking at anything or anyone except me then ran off saying he’d catch me later.

         Last, but not least, I can’t forget the Chorus Concert when I didn’t realize that my top button had come undone. All night, he kept coming over to me to chat. I thought he was starting to like me, but I wondered why he wouldn’t look at my face. I have nothing more to say about that incident.

         After the Chorus Concert, I avoided Paul Schram. I wanted to save the last shreds of my dignity and reputation. So other then a friendly “Hi” or a wave, I haven’t spoken with Paul in weeks, but I am still crushing on him. I’ve written about him endlessly in my journal and the school newspaper published two poems that I wrote about him. Of course I didn’t mention him by name. During my Paul Schram-less weeks, Margot has helped on me improve my boy skills, to learn how to talk and act around boys.

         Now he walks into the smoothie place and Margot wants me to put her boy skills training to the test. I have to ask Paul Schram out; I am sweating profusely.

         “Dry your face and go over there!” Margot growls.

         As I stand up and walk over to Paul, I wonder what will happen to me this time. I approach him and he turns around. His face lights up as he recognizes me. There is an awkward moment of silence. I notice his friend staring at me and I can feel Margot’s eyes drilling holes in my back.

         “Hi, Paul,” I manage to say.

         “Hi Chelsea,” Paul says.

         “Um, Paul – “ I begin, but he interrupts me.

         “Um, Chelsea, I was wondering if you’d like to go out this Saturday.” Paul says.

         At that moment, I falter. This is the culmination of all my hopes and dreams! This is the moment I’ve waited all year to have!  Then in the wink of the eye, I realize I’m no longer crushing on him. I’ve wasted a year mooning after him, making a fool of myself.  In an instant I know that I really don’t want to go out with him, ever. It’s an awkward silence, but he’s used to that from me.

         “Um, Paul, I’d be fun to go out together, but I really think of you as a friend.” I hear myself say.

He’s staring at me in surprise. Then he drops his smoothie down the front of his polo shirt.