In Honor of Brad's Bithday

Cheshire Cat

As he walked towards the Dairy Queen, he tried not to wear the Cheshire Cat grin he was feeling. He couldn’t help it though. He knew it wasn’t cool and that people were watching; he tried to tone it down, but then only the corners of his mouth gave it away.
He saw her through the window and was temporarily blinded. He allowed the electricity to pass through him, barely acknowledging it. To acknowledge it would mean he would have to admit what everyone was saying was true: he had a crush on her. He didn’t want that, not some high school, puppy love, comedy, or worse yet, drama. He wanted whatever they had to be different, special, something no one else had.
As he opened the door, he saw her sitting there with some friends. He could tell he was moving forward but he couldn’t feel his legs. His body was working of its own accord as he continued to walk towards the group. In slow motion she looked up at him, their eyes met and she flashed a smile so sweet, so expectant, and so pure, he was again temporarily blinded by the lightness of it.
Unable to explain how, he found himself standing right next to her. He’d been listening to love songs on the radio his whole life, his mother was a rock and roll fanatic, but none of those songs had ever meant a thing to him until this girl had smiled at him. Finally, Frankie Valli was making a lot of sense.
It was corny, he knew that, but he didn’t care. He knew what he knew. He knew what she had told him. He knew what they talked about. He knew how he felt when they were together or apart. He wanted to say, “Let me tell you everything I did today. I know you are interested in my every move and I want to share my whole world with you.” Instead, he just said, “Hi.”
Her heart was beating in her throat and what she really wanted to say was, “I have been waiting all day to see you. I have so much to talk to you about, so much to share, a lot can happen in a day and I know you will be interested.” Instead she smiled and said, “How are you tonight?”
Neither of them had very much more to say than that. If other people wouldn’t have been around, and if they had been a couple of years older, and if he was more brazen, and she was more flirtatious, and they lived in Europe, he would have picked her hand up and pressed it to his lips and whispered something soft and meaningful. Instead he looked around at everyone and asked, “What are we having?”
He found it impossible to say everything he was thinking, or anything he was thinking, when she was sitting right there and people were watching. He didn’t have a problem talking when they were on the phone or in the car by themselves or at her house, but out in public it was a different matter. She knew this about him and loved it. It was important to him to keep things private and low-key, special, only between them and she was happy to play along.
On the outside it was no big deal, he was just a guy she knew, we laugh together, he likes to tease me….On the inside she was thinking, “I can tell him anything. I want to know everything about him. I don’t want to make any mistakes because when I look at this boy I see everything all at the same time.” If they had been older and he had been less serious and she had been sillier, she would have thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek and shouted, “Don’t ever leave my side!” Instead she just answered, “I’m having a chocolate shake.”
“That sounds good to me,” and he walked up to the counter to order.
He got a few paces away and turned, almost imperceptibly, to look at her again. She was staring right at him. Their eyes met and her face shone with the knowledge that he liked her just as much as she liked him and she liked him just as much as he liked her. Safety, security, ultimate acceptance, unconditional and child-like; all that passed between them in that millisecond as he turned away, trying to hide his Cheshire Cat grin and compose himself long enough to order from the girl at the counter.
As they sat together and talked and laughed about everything and everyone, anyone looking at them would think they were just two kids in a group of kids. Only the most observant would see how, when he spoke, her eyes lowered and she listened carefully, holding her breath a little and straining to hear every word and thought that was being uttered. She would remember what he said and they would talk about it later tonight. She would tell him what she had thought when he said this and that and how it made her feel, share her ideas.
Only someone who knew what they were looking for would see his breath catch when she told the events of the day. The way he fought to keep a cool look on his face and the effort involved in keeping the grin under control. His quietly teasing comments meant to show her that he was listening but to throw everyone else off the scent. He saved his bitter sarcasm for others. For her it was the gentle humor of an admirer.
Only the most seasoned eye would see how she beamed when he told of an activity or accomplishment, or how he winced a tiny bit when someone else jokingly made fun of her. He would remember those things and tell her later that the joker was wrong and stupid and she shouldn’t listen to them any more.
Later that night when he drove her home, he wanted to tell her everything but there was too much to say. So he said nothing. She also had nothing to say, not because she had nothing to say to him but because they had already said it all, in their looks, their laughter, their thoughts.
As he walked her to the door he wanted to sweep her up in his newly muscled arms and squeeze her tight. But he didn’t. He knew she was already afraid of the big feelings she was having and that she was being cautious. She had seen a lot of her friends burn bright for a boy only to burn out a few days later. That wasn’t what she wanted. She was glad he didn’t rush her and hug her and put his big, strong arms around her and hold her. It was so common. She was afraid of what she would feel, of what she would do or be unable to do. But she was sad when he said, “I guess I’ll see you later and stopped walking.
She turned around and in a soft voice answered, “It was fun tonight.”
Fun! Her mind was screaming! Fun! Fun is what little kids have when they play at the park. Fun is what little boys have when they ride bikes or when little girls play dress up. This wasn’t fun, it was bigger, more important than fun. This was sure knowledge. The knowledge that someone wonderful thinks you are wonderful and someone handsome thinks you are beautiful and someone intelligent thinks you are smart. Someone you want to spend time with wants to spend time with you. It isn’t fun, it’s validation. All the time and energy she had spent developing herself had been reciprocated and had turned out to be worth the effort. She smiled and said nothing but her face said everything.
He smiled back at her because he knew exactly what she meant, so he said, “Yeah, I had fun too.”
As she went inside, he turned and walked up the path to the car. He was so full of life and energy that he wanted to run and take the steps three at a time and slide over the hood of the car and then speed off in a shower of gravel, but he knew her dad was probably watching from the window. He carefully walked up to the car, got inside, put on his seatbelt and drove home. Finally, he let the cat out of the bag and grinned his Cheshire Cat grin, just like he wanted to all night.