Boldly poured into my too small pants, I walked out of my French final on the last day of school. Of course, Brian was standing at his locker, but this had become a normal occurrence and in fact, we had become conversation friends. Meaning we would talk everyday when we passed each other with pleasantries but that was about it. Giddy with summer joy, I walked by Brian and said hi.
His face was flushed and he looked a little nervous as he stammered, “Hey, I’ve been trying to do this for weeks, but I haven’t and now it’s the last day of school so it’s my last chance and I was just wondering if there was anyway you could give me Vivian’s number.”
“Of course.” Within seconds of him asking, I was spitting out her number as he plugged it into his phone.
“Uh, one more thing.” Brian was awkwardly stuttering at this point. “You know Jake?”
“Yeah, Jake? Tall guy?” Seeing my confusion he added, “The other basketball manager?”
“Oh, yeah Jake, of course. Sorry, there are just so many Jakes, you know?” Bullshit. There were a lot of Jakes, it is a common name, but I should have had some memory recall, but the truth was, I hadn’t known the other basketball manager’s name until right then. That’s not cool though, Jake was a grade above me, so, naturally, it’s only cool to know Jake.
“Yeah… sure. Whatever. Anyway, he wants your number, can I give it to him?”
“Of course,” the smile on my face was so large I’m sure that astronauts saw my braces. A cute boy wants MY number?
I wrote my number down so fast that it’s shocking the paper didn’t catch on fire. It was summer, a cute upperclassman asked for my number, things were great and I was heading home to an empty house where I was going to eat all the ice cream and watch Lizzie McGuire. It was a great way to end 7th grade.