Maybe things are looking up?

I felt like I was floating through the rest of the day. I wasn’t doing anything fun; I just ran some much-needed errands. But the prospect of a date… wow.

I’d missed out on a lot in life, as I’m sure you’d noticed. I may be twenty-one, but had only asked out one other girl before. Pamela.

Imagine a young Michael. Younger, anyway; this was me in high school. Senior year. I had a crush on this girl for a couple months. We knew each other from Chemistry class. Lab partners. An overdone trope, I know, but what can I say?

Pamela was a light-skinned, athletic, and tall girl. Volleyball champion. She wasn’t the most popular girl at school or anything, but she had her cliques and friends. I didn’t really have that.

I was fatter than I am now. Not obese by any means, but could have could have eaten a few less bags of chips or picked up a few more weights at the gym. I wasn’t very popular, mostly due to my own choices. I didn’t participate in any sports or after-school activities.

Anyway, one day I’d had a really bad day at home. I mean, most days were bad at home, but that day had been really bad. I was clearly depressed as we mixed chemicals together in the classroom. Pamela, the sweetheart she is, noticed.

“Everything alright, Mikey?”

She called me Mikey. I didn’t like it, but I felt too awkward to ever tell her to stop.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I replied. I stirred the now-green liquid half-heartedly.

“You sure? You seem down.” She placed a hand softly on my shoulder.

Here’s the mistake. To anyone else, this would be a kind gesture from someone trying to be neighborly to an acquaintance. To me? This was the most physical touch I'd ever received from the opposite sex.

“Just tired, sorry.”

That’s when the crush started. Genuinely, a small touch had made my small heart grow three sizes that day. I was head over heels for her.

I went to volleyball games. I thought that would be my in. I don’t remember how many games I went to, but it didn’t matter. She never noticed me. I hated watching the games too; I had no clue how the game worked and it was hard to follow at times. Hey, the uniforms were nice.

I spent months working up my courage. I practiced asking her out in the mirror. I imagined what it would be like to talk to her friends, meet her parents, etc. I left no stones unturned. That is… besides her saying no.

One day I’d had another particularly bad day at home. It was near the end of the school year. All I could think about was Pamela. She’d been there for me once. Maybe she could be there for me again.

I found her outside the woman’s bathroom. I promise I wasn’t, like, stalking her. It was just a coincidence, I swear, but in hindsight I probably looked weird.

“Hey, Pamela.” I called out when I saw her.

She looked around before realizing I was speaking to her. Why should she assume I’m talking to her? We’d never spoken outside of the classroom before.

“Mikey? What’s up?” She leaned up against a locker with her arms crossed casually. I remember the image so vividly; she wore a cute alt-style outfit that day with her dark locks pulled into a tall bun.

“I was just… uh.” I’d forgotten my script. I’d practiced hundreds of times, and I’d blanked on stage.

“I… you know?” I remembered the last two words were ‘you know’. They weren’t helping me out.

“Uh… are you okay?” She asked, her casual composure getting slightly more tense.

“Yeah, I’m just… you know… out.”

“Out? Out of what?”

“Yyyooouuu….”

“What?”

Okay, fuck the script. “Would you want to, like… go out? Date? Like, asking you out on a date? We’d go to somewhere? A place? Us? Romantically? Maybe a movie? Dinner? Coffee? Or is that more of a middle-aged date?”

I should have kept trying to remember the script.

“Um… sorry, Mikey, but… I don’t think so.” Pamela winced. She really did seem sorry, but I was still heartbroken. “You seem nice and all, but I just see you as… a friend.”

I walked away immediately. I wasn’t going to let her see me cry.

The school year came to an end soon after. Pamela ended up going to college on a volleyball scholarship. She signed my yearbook.

“Love ya, Mikey! <3”

There wasn’t really a reason for this flashback. I guess I just wanted to give you all an idea of what this meant for me. I had to wonder how I’d gotten the courage to even ask out Cait, honestly. Maybe my new abilities had given me a confidence boost as well.

Maybe.