Myself - Chapter two - Part XIII

“Give me your clothes. You can’t handle this,” I said.

Bugsy knew I was right, and began taking his shirt off.

We swapped clothes quickly and I got ready to go back out. As I was about to open the door, Bugsy said, “sitting there, watching yourself… you weren’t just as nervous, and excited, and anxious as I was?”

I looked at Bugsy. “I wasn’t talking to her.”

“Well, you are now. Give me your hat.”

I walked back out and sat down with Molly.

“Geez,” I said, “I am NOT used to caffeine!”

“I thought you got hot chocolate,” she said. Oops.

“So did I.” Nice save.

“So… So how long have you felt this way about me?”

“Forever.”

“Oh, Bernie, you should have said something! You know I’ve always liked you!”

Then why didn’t you ever say anything to me? I was smart enough not to ask that. I just raised my eyebrows a little.

She smiled. “So you love me.”

“I don’t not love you.”

After a chuckle she said, “I gotta say, since you went to the bathroom, it’s been like a whole different you.” I heard a gagging sound behind me. “Did you… did you comb your hair in there?”

OOPS. “Uh, no, why?”

“Well, it looks like you tried to comb your hair, but failed miserably… Knowing you, I would have guessed it was the first time you ever touched a comb. It also kind of looks like it was messed up with a hat, but that would also be the first time you ever wore a hat.” A pause. “Of course, this is the first time you ever said you loved me.”

At that point, her cell phone rang. “Hello?...Oh, hi…yeah…But I’m doing something right now…OH REALLY?...Where is it?... Let me call you back…Okay…Okay…Bye.”

I took a sip of hot chocolate.

“That was Suzy,” she said. “Catherine Daren is signing books at Boundaries.”

“She wrote… that book.” I’d heard the name before, but I was struggling. “Oh! Yeah! That book about a girl who learns a valuable life lesson when she runs away from home and raises alpacas on a farm!” Thank you NPR and your uninteresting book reviews!

“You should read it. It changed my life.” She looked at her watch.

“When do you go back to school?” I asked.

“On Tuesday… we should probably meet again if, you know, you love me and all.”

“Sounds good. Call me later, we’ll figure out when to meet.”

Molly stood up and took her purse. She stopped for a moment and looked at me. “I love you too. Don’t ever try to comb your hair.” And with that, she was out of the door.