Saturday, June 26, 2010
Kinda, sorta, maybe.
I readjust my body on the couch. Sit for a beat, move my foot, fiddle my fingers.
"I don't know," she says finally, and I exhale. Softly, hoping she doesn't hear.
"But...in the general ballpark...do you, or do you not, like girls?"
She looks uncomfortable for a second, and creases her eye-brows.
"I guess," she says. "Maybe. I mean, they're cute. They smell nice. And they've got such-"
She stops, her cheeks turning red.
"No, no," I say. "Such what?"
A few seconds pass and her lips twist into a quirky little smile.
"Such soft lips."
I nod, agreeing. But really, really agreeing. And hope she catches on.
"So what about you?" she asks, completely oblivious.
"I don't know," I mumble.
She frowns and shakes her foot impassively.
"No. You have to answer. In the general ballpark. Come on."
I fiddle my fingers, think of an answer -any answer- other than the answer that's just right there.
"Truthfully," I say slowly. "I do."
She raises her eyebrows and smirks. "Oh?"
"Yeah. And...I think she might know too."
"She?" She cocks her eyebrows even higher, and I laugh.
"You look like a clown with your eyebrows that high..."
Making a face, she tries to get them even higher, until finally, she relaxes her entire face.
"So who is it?"
"Who's who?" I ask, giggling at the image of her in a clown's suit.
"Who's this girl you like?"
I watch a spark of something in her eye go off, flaring. Anger, maybe. Impatience.
Beat, beat. Let the seconds go by, because I don't wanna answer!
And finally, my mouth betrays me.
I let my guard down for a second and the word jumps out.
"Coincidentally," she says carefully. "I don't mind."
Relief washes over me in a snow-storm of words.
"Even...I kinda like it."