Myself - Chapter two - Part XII

I realized, watching from a distance, that the conversation wasn’t going to escape small talk. That wasn’t good.

“I do miss high school, though,” she said. Jackpot! Substantive conversation!

“Yeah, me too.” NOOO! SAY SOMETHING WORTH SOMETHING! “I was in a history class, the teacher was a little boring, and I was thinking, I wish Mr. DiNardi were teaching me this!” Okay, that’s good. Good Bernie.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve the same thing. And sometimes in math, I’m like, gee, I wish Bernie were here writing some story about partial derivatives fighting with each other.”

Suddenly, behind her, there was a sound of a loud crash. Someone had dropped a coffee mug on the floor. Commotion ensued. Molly turned around to see what was going on.

I saw my opportunity. I couldn’t say certain things while talking to her; I just wasn’t capable. But as someone observing the conversation from a distance, my brain wasn’t in dumb-frozen mode. I snuck up behind myself, paused for a moment, and then softly said, “I love you.” I then turned around immediately and scooted back to where I had been sitting.

Molly turned back to me. I was petrified.

“Did you just say…” I absolutely couldn’t read her face. Curiosity? Shock? Horror? Joy and rapture?

“I said-”

“You just said you loved me!”

There was an awkward moment of silence. It was my turn to say something, but I was speechless.

“Bernie,” she said, “why didn’t you say this to me before? Back when we went to the same school and lived in the same state?”

I was completely frozen. I looked like I’d just been removed from a freezer where I spent the last month of my life. I was looking at her as if to say, “Don’t hurt me!”

Although I was staring at her, I wasn’t actually looking at her. Had I been, I would have seen a big smile on her face.

“Bernie!” she said. “Bernie! Understand that you’re entirely crazy to tell a girl you haven’t talked to for almost a year, out of nowhere, that you love her, but… but you lucked out, and… Bernie! Are you okay?”

For a moment, I was concerned that the world had just gone back to having one Bernie, as it appeared that Bugsy had stopped breathing. Talk about romantic. That was enough for me. I got up from my seat, walked to the other side of their table, behind Molly, and tried to attract my own attention. I waved my arms a little, and made eye contact. I then pointed wildly at the bathroom.

Bugsy finally spoke up. “I, uh, I think I’m telling myself that I need to go to the bathroom.” I banged my head against the wall. A bewildered Molly looked at me as I hobbled to the bathroom. I met me inside.

“What the hell???” Bugsy said.

I locked the door. “Give me your clothes.”

“Are you mugging me?”