I sat in my car before my job interview, on the phone with a friend.
I think he likes me. I’m not sure. I kind of feel like I should talk to him about it.
I could hear her shaking her head. Emily, just be. If he likes you, just let him pursue things. You don’t always need to be in control.
I took a deep breath. I could do that. I hung up the phone and headed to my second interview with the same nonprofit.
I think when you like someone, you show it in different ways.
I tease the guy a lot. I try to spend time with him. I blush.
I’ve always wondered how other people show they’re interested in someone.
Adam stared at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. He always sat next to me in community group. He touched my back, shoulder and arm several times. He screamed with joy when I got the job.
To this day, I think his refusal to admit he liked me was a dirty lie.
Did I ask you for your phone number? Did I ask you out?
I sat there, pondering his questions. Who asks someone after two months of limited contact? Wouldn’t you take your time to get to know someone? What about God? Don’t you test the spirits before you act on an impulse?
I looked at him again. He didn’t look like he gave God’s opinion much thought. Impulsive. Immature. Reactive. I realized I didn’t like him much.
But I didn’t say any of that to him. I guess not, I responded.
Then I don’t like you. He said, matter-of-fact.
I looked at him again. Dirty liar.
I dangled the necklace in front of my face.
I want to say something this time, much like I always have. But I don’t. This time is different. This time I’m different.
But I like him so damn much.
*Names have been changed