Harbored Thoughts

                   Harbored Thoughts

Contemplation

         On the way back to town from a science club trip, the bus made a pit stop at a public park. The students stretched their legs and their imaginations outside. Pretty soon they had divided into two teams for an informal game of banner-catch.
         The object of the game was to capture the flag. Each of the two main trash cans in the park had a red shirt on it. The sides were divided by a concrete walkway. Anyone touched in enemy territory was a prisoner who couldn't steal the red shirt flag.

         Andrew and his buddies developed a very successful strategy. Working as a team, they all charged into enemy territory straight at a solo defender. The defender could only chase one person at a time. As one was chased, the other two moved closer to the enemy flag. Once the first escaped, the pursuer chased another; but still that left two people deep in the heart of danger. The rest of the defenders didn't realize their front line had been penetrated.
         Only a lone defender remained to protect the flag. Deborah leaned back over the trash can, making it impossible for them to grab the shirt without being touched. However, there were two of them, and she couldn't take a prisoner to the prison zone without leaving the flag unprotected. Andrew and his friend Lee made feints, circling the trash can warily. Deborah yelped in surprise as she rotated her body to block each new angle of threat. It was a stalemate.

         As Lee tried to taunt her away from her post, Andrew was smitten by the delighted gleam in Deborah's eyes. She was truly enjoying herself - and he had never seen that from her at school. Her eyes darted around in excitement, and she was breathless from trying to laugh and breathe and hold herself over the target at the same time. "What are you doing, man?" Lee asked, "Help me, we can win this but only if we hurry. The rest will catch onto us soon!"
         Three things happened in the span of seconds. Deborah realized she could call for backup, and she signaled the forward defense to pull back and help her. Lee swore loudly and started telling Andrew his plan to grab the shirt and get it back to our side. Andrew was in a daze, thinking, Why don't I just run up to her and take her amazingly lithe body into my arms and pull her away? I'll be automatically frozen as a prisoner but I won't let go of her. Lee can grab the flag and run; I'll still be holding Deborah - and maybe she would like that as much as I enjoy contemplating it?

         As Andrew daydreamed, Lee got captured by another defender. A shrill whistle pierced the air as the bus driver announced it was time to go. Before Andrew could get caught, the game was over and the students gravitated back towards the bus. For almost everyone, the game had been a stalemate from the start. Lee was sour because he knew how close to winning he was. He chided Andrew for choking in the crunch time. Andrew told him, "I knew how to win it there. I chose not to, though. Trust me, bud." That didn't cheer up Lee.

-*- -*- -*- -*- -*-

Don't Ask

         After school the next day, Andrew had the nice coincidence to be walking in the parking lot just ahead of Deborah. He turned and said hi. "How was your Physics grade?"
         She was not interested in talking about school with Andrew, but an opening was an opening, however inept the guy was at making them. She asked after his grades. Andrew surprised her with a low B in Calculus. He blushed and she found it refreshing that the grade didn't affect him deeply. Deborah grimaced as conversation dried up - they just didn't know each other well, and Andrew was no social stuntman. She resumed walking when his voice interrupted.

         "Can I ask you a question?" braved Andrew. Deborah kept the smile from her face as she turned to him again. You just did, she thought sassily. The guy was uncomfortable but he continued, "Who are you going out with?"
         Andrew stood fidgeting as Deborah dragged her bangs behind her ear. She sighed and mumbled, "Oh, no one."

         Congratulating himself on completing the question, Andrew stalled for time to think. "No one these days?"
         Deborah nearly laughed. She was feeling good. It was delightful to watch a smartie turn stupid. She heaved a big wistful sigh and shrugged dramatically.
         As socially retarded as he was, Andrew thought he got the hint. He was tempted to pursue right there. But No, his second-guess told himself, don't ask her out. You have to be friends first. "Well, seeya later then," he finished lamely. Andrew retreated to his car and cursed his cowardice with every footfall.

         Deborah was moody at work that afternoon. She mulled over the ineffectiveness of her hints. Andrew was in rare good humor at work, his spirits still soaring from partial victory over his own timidity.
         That night, though, Deborah's emotions recovered. She considered the possibilities of the morning to come. She and he were usually two of the first to arrive in first period Calc. As sleep time approached, Andrew groaned in trepidation. He had no plan for what to say to Deborah in the morning. How would he proceed? Worst he dreaded doing nothing and letting her down twice in a row.

-*- -*- -*- -*- -*-

Expectations

         Andrew sat stewing in his own juices. He had arrived at class very early, hoping for inspiration to strike him. He glanced at his desk, which half the time in class was covered by Deborah's hair. She apologized for it often, and he was secretly glad she never fixed the problem. He loved the attention from her gently bashful face. He loved to wave off her concerns with a smile of his own.
         Their ritual apology scenes often led to pleasant little chats. These conversations elicited annoyed glances from their teacher, who wondered that her two best-behaved students would be so rude as to disturb work time by whispering. For Andrew, the best side effect of the conversations was that it drew dark stares of malice from Derek, a pompous ass who tried to monopolize the time of a young woman too sweet to tell him to go screw himself.

         When Deborah entered, she was glad to see that she had as usual arrived relatively early. Her eyes zeroed across the room to her desk, and sure enough Andrew was seated behind it already. She had feared he might not be there; what if he isn't interested? He could just not show up earl-... but he did. Books tucked into the cradle of her arms, Deborah smiled to the teacher as she walked in.
         Her glow dimmed to a shadow as her eyes passed over Derek's desk. She was eternally glad that Andrew was a convenient escape from the unwanted flirts of that stuck-up cretin. Deborah primly sat and got out her homework. She cast a nasty glance at Derek's seat and wished he would be absent.

         Andrew glanced up hopefully as Deborah stood at her desk before him. His confidence died, though, as he saw her strained face. She sat without saying a word to him, and when she turned her head slightly, her eyebrows were locked into a frown. Ever respectful of a person's feelings, Andrew didn't pester her.
         Deborah waited patiently for the tap on her chair, the note over her shoulder, or Andrew's fingers to play with her hair. None materialized. Her outlook sagged with every moment that Andrew kept quiet.

-*- -*- -*- -*- -*-

Agitation

         Andrew suffered two days of roller-coaster emotions before deciding to finally call Deborah. Every time he saw her in school, his heart raced and stymied his wit. Every time he developed a brilliant plan for engaging her attention, she seemed out of sorts and unwilling to talk. She had asked in passing the day before if he had her phone number. Indeed he did. And now he was going to use it.
         Deborah's dad answered the phone. "Sorry, she's in Panama City for a few days. Can I take a message?" Frag! Andrew swore to himself. Funny thing is, that doesn't bring me down much. He was almost glad not to have to be awkward with her on the phone like any chicken geek would. He could speak to Deborah in person after the weekend, when she came back.

         His relief became agitated as the weekend progressed, though. Andrew's mind occasionally raised uncomfortable queries. Who's she with in Panama City? Why didn't she say anything about going out of town? Is it any of your business as far as she's concerned?

-*- -*- -*- -*- -*-

He Didn't Call

         Dane entreated Deborah to finish her virgin daquiri. He had invited the girl for a beach weekend in Panama City. She had originally turned him down, but he was happy when she agreed at the last moment to go. Dane's buddies were out on the wind- and surf-boards. His brother was getting some aspirin for her.
         Through her hands Deborah shook her head and mumbled that she would be all right. After days of waiting on Andrew to call, she had needed a getaway. It was an impulsive thing, going with her casual friend Dane to the beach. She had hoped the beautiful place would cheer her up. But his jerk brother Derek had come along and was turning her vacation into a private hell.

         Deborah's unbidden tears started to slow. Andrew is a nice guy. But I guess he was only being nice. Got to put him behind you, girl. Another six months and you'll be in college. Brave face forward. She pulled off her shirt and wiped her face with it. She tightened the knot on her bikini. "Let's see if we can find a paddleboat."
         "All right!" Dane cheered. His friend was over whatever personal demon had been bothering her.

-*- -*- -*- -*- -*-

Consolation

         Deborah was distant that next week. She kept her hair tied above her shoulders, and Andrew lamented. He hadn't blown it, after all. She was never interested.


         [related poetry: "Harboring Thoughts"  [E]]