Page 8
Story: Let Me
We’re supposed to be watching this movie, but we’re playing Uno, eating popcorn and talking about our week.
Friday evenings with my bestie is therapy.
Riley is going on and on about how the boys are always musty and sweaty.
Do I care anything about that? Not at all.
But I’m her sounding board, and she’s mine, so I’m going to sit here, drink this lukewarm bottle of Mike’s hard lemonade, and listen to her talk about these stanky kids.
“I find it appalling that kids are not required to bring gym clothes to change into for class,” she says.
“Girl, I have them kids running around the track, doing jumping jacks, playing all the sports and when they’re done, so are their clothes and what little deodorant they put underneath their arms.”
“So, does that mean if Johnny has you for first block, he’s musty for the rest of the day?”
“The whole freakin’ day. I actually gagged yesterday.”
“Maybe you should have them bring extra clothes, deodorant and all that.”
“I can’t. All of that has to be approved by the district.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious. If I implement anything the district didn’t put in place, I can get written up or face termination.”
“That’s insane. See, that’s why these schools can’t keep teachers now.
Everybody wants to be in charge, but it’s only the teachers who are really in the trenches, paying attention to the needs of the students.
So, while the district holds meetings to make themselves feel important, Johnny’s lil’ musty behind can’t multiply mixed fractions because he’s all sweaty and funky when he gets to fifth period. ”
Riley laughs. “You gon’ leave Johnny alone. Now, draw four,” she says slamming a card on top of the pile.
My mouth falls open. “You don’t have red?”
“Nope.”
“You better not be lying,” I say, drawing the four cards, adding to my stash of half the deck. Either I’m not good at this game, or Riley is on expert level.
“I’m not lying,” she says, but I’m not convinced by that smirk on her face.
My phone vibrates on the table. I pick it up and look at the text that came through.
Good evening.
I recognize Judah’s number, but I have yet to program his name and number into my phone. I haven’t heard from him since we met for dinner on Wednesday. Just to toy with him, I respond:
Who is this?
I wait for a response and get:
Ouch . You have so many men texting you, you can’t keep up?
No, I was just playing wit’ you, Judah. I forgot to save your number in my phone, though.
How did you know it was me, then?
I still have our previous texts.
Oh. Right.
I’m locking your number in now. Perhaps I’ll save it under the ice cream emoji, then I’ll always know it’s you.
Or you could just save it under my name.
I could, but what’s the fun in that?
Right…so I was wondering…
Wondering what, Mr. Westinghouse?
When I can see you again?
“Girl, who is you texting over there?”
“Nobody.”
“Oh, it’s somebody. You haven’t stopped cheesing since you picked up the phone.”
I snicker and say, “It’s Judah.”
“Dang. He has you smiling like that? What happened to just being friends?”
“Nothing. We are friends.”
“Chile, please. Skip a diagnosis. If a man made me smile like that, I’d be all over it.”
“Riley!”
“What? I’m just saying. Take it from a P.E. teacher with no prospects—you’re winning. Plus, he fine.”
“He is, isn’t he?”
My bad. You are busy.
No, I’m not. I’m calling you now.
You don’t have to.
I want to.
I dial his number. I didn’t even hear the line ring before he says, “Hi.”
“Hey. Hold on a sec.”
“Okay.”
The feeling that toys with my nerves and sends shivers down my spine when I hear his voice should be studied. All of my happy hormones are fluttering, having a field day, and making me feel weightless.
I mouth to Riley, “I’ll be right back,” and step outside of her duplex. Leaning against the hood of my car, I say, “Okay. I’m here. What’s up, Judah?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? You called me for nothing ?”
“No. I—okay, how are you doing?”
“I’m doing well. You?”
“I’m doing.”
“Did you work today?”
“I did for a few hours this morning. I met some interesting people.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I did.”
“Tell me about it,” I say.
“Can I do that in person?”
I smile and say, “Oh, that was slick. I like how you slid that right on in there.”
“It would be a better conversation in person. In fact, I was initially calling to invite you to lunch with me tomorrow if—”
“Yes!”
He grins. “You didn’t let me finish.”
“You don’t have to. Tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”
“Lake Julian Park.”
“There are no places to eat out there at the lake.”
“I know. I’m going to attempt to pack a picnic basket. I got everything I needed when I was at the store today.”
“Aw—that means you’ve been thinking about this all day.”
“I have. Anyway, I’ll let you get back to whatever you’re doing.”
“I’m at my friend Riley’s house playing Uno.”
“This is what you usually do on Friday nights?”
“I mix it up a bit. Riley likes to go out sometimes, but she knows I’m a homebody. She likes the nightlife, you know. I’d rather be on the sofa watching a good movie.”
“I like that, too.”
“Stop lying, Judah. You’d rather be in the woods.”
“That, too. Hey…Autumn.”
“Yes?”
“Save my number in your phone.”
“I did already. I saved it under Judah with the ice cream cone emoji.”
“Seriously?”
“I told you I was going to do it.”
He grins and says, “Okay. Meet me tomorrow at ten.”
“Ten a.m.?”
“Of course,” he says, then laughs.
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Yes. Tomorrow.”
“At ten,” I confirm.
“A.M.,” he says, tickled.
“Alright. I got it.”
“Enjoy the rest of your night, Autumn.”
“You as well, Judah. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
I hang up the phone and try my best to wipe the smile off my face that I’m going to get to see him tomorrow.
I don’t even care that the rest of the crew will be there.
I’m still grateful that I get to be near him.
I like him and I want to get to know him.
His diagnosis won’t prevent me from doing that.
In fact, I refuse to feel any kind of pity for him or look at him like a person who has something.
He’s a man with feelings—a man who looks perfectly capable of living a happy, productive life.
And I can’t explain it, but whenever I talk to him, whenever I’m with him, I feel elation.
Like there’s something about him that stabilizes me.
It’s one of those feelings that tells me our paths were supposed to cross and I’m glad they did.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8 (Reading here)
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46