Drumbeats into My Heart

15. Seth Finds Courage

In that moment, with her smiling at me in that dazzling way of hers, I forget myself. I've spent the last two agonizing days worrying and obsessing, and hating myself for all of it. The failed confrontation with my mom really threw me for a loop. I'd begun wondering what Jordi could possibly see in me. I'd changed my mind about coming here at least six times.

And that massive hill that loomed between me and my destination... I'd stared at it for an embarrassingly long time, contemplating turning around and heading back home. I kept having visions of me keeling over and dying in a pool of sweat.

I'm so glad I didn't, though, because now I get to bask in the sunshine of her smile. All my neurotic foibles are fading away. I forget about the way my mother treats me. About Worf and his mocking wall calendar glares. About this ridiculous heat. Because being here with her is so worth it.

She's wearing her sun hat today, which makes her look like... I don't know. I can't think of an adequate analogy. Something carefree and ethereal. I realize I'm staring and wanting to reach out to tug on one of her bouncy curls. Say something, and keep your hands to yourself.

"You look good," I manage.

"I do?" She peers at me from under her hat.

"You always do." I really mean it, but I worry it sounds like a line. "I mean, every time I see you, I feel lighter. Happier." Wait, am I laying it on too thick? Ugh, how do guys do this?

Her smile broadens, which eases my anxiety a bit. "You're sweet."

Ask for her phone number. Do it now. "Hey Jordi? I was wondering if..." I clear my throat. Do not chicken out. "If..."

She's watching me. Waiting. Expecting.

What does she expect from me? What if I fall short of those expectations? Like, so far short that she'd have no choice but to come to her senses and stop seeing me?

Stop seeing me? I'm the one seeking her out. What if she's merely tolerating me?

My breath starts coming in short gasps. What if she doesn't really like me at all?

I jam my hands into my pockets and glance nervously around. "The crowds are getting bigger. I won't hold you up." I avoid eye contact and barely resist the urge to run away. Shuffling a short distance away, I sit on the curb and drop my head into my hands. My heart won't stop its erratic slamming in my chest.

She must think I'm a basket case now. I can't risk looking at her. Can't bear the pity, the confusion, or whatever else is running through her mind after my weird breakdown.

It's not long before the drumming starts.

There's a magical beauty to music that is different for each person. For me, it cuts through the self-doubting chatter. Clears a path through the noise. As I listen, each percussive beat disrupts my reeling thoughts, halting their destructive path, breaking them up until my mind is finally my own again. Until all that's left is thumpa-thumpa-thumpa-tap.

By the time she stops for a break, my panic attack is long gone.

I wait until she stands up to stretch before approaching her once more. "I'm sorry, Jordi."

"What happened?" The blue of her eyes don't express pity or confusion or any of the other horrible things I'd convinced myself was true. They were simply... curious. As if I hadn't just acted like a jello-brained wreck.

My hands go back into my pockets. "I don't know. I psych myself out sometimes."

"That's okay. I do, too."

"No way."

A corner of her mouth lifts up. "I know it's hard to believe that a girl like me could possibly have any flaws"—her voice lilts with self-mocking—"but it happens."

That intrigues me even more, so I lean forward. "What kinds of things do you panic about?"

She evaluates me for a moment, narrowing her eyes. "I don't know you well enough to share that."

Something inside me shifts. Like all the self-conscious idiocy has decided to take a back seat. I decide right then that, whatever it takes, I will get to know her better. Get to the point where she feels like she can share. I have all summer, but I'm going to start now.

Right now.

"Can I have your phone number?" My eyes go wide when I realize what I've blurted. I finally did it!

She grins and recites her number. I excitedly punch it into my phone without dropping it. My heart is hammering so hard, but with glee this time instead of terror. I have Jordi's number. Her number! I asked for her number and she gave it to me. I am totally blown away. I want to fist-bump someone. I want to breakdance. I want to jump into the air and whoop with ecstatic joy.

"Cool, thanks," I say instead, barely containing the frenzied urge to high five the nearest dude.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Wait, she's been wanting me to ask for her number?

I nearly pass out at her feet.

Luckily I don't. But I'm smiling so hard, my face is about to break in half.

Victory!!! That calls for some votes!