My Father's Best Man

Chapter 8

A month later, I received an email from my father informing me that he was going to propose. I couldn't move my eyes away from the computer and was feeling a bit dizzy. Fulton didn't notice anything, and I didn't say anything. My father wanted me to be his best man. My mind went blank after reading that sentence.

Out of some drunken courage, I DM'd Brooke and officially asked her out. I didn't know why I did it.

My heart started pumping hard. It was either from the alcohol or the fear of rejection. Either way, I was able to stop thinking about my family in that brief moment. I stared at the screen for about an hour or so, waiting for her to respond. In my head, I went through all the worst case scenarios, of all the ways she could reject me. And after too many imaginary slaps across my face, I started to panic. What led me to think that she would even say "yes" to begin with? She definitely dropped some clues before. She was the one who stood next to me at the fair. Then she found me on Facebook. After I added her, she messaged me right away:

"Dude! Didn't know you're still in high school!"

"Hey, you said you're not an undercover cop..."

"Haha... Maybe you could take me out to your prom. I missed those days. (smiley face)"

Was that flirtatious or not, I couldn't tell. But we continued to message each other for the next few weeks. Her relationship status was "married" to another female classmate. I didn't have anything clever, so mine was left blank. She would send me links to some jazz musicians I never heard of before, and I would hit like to show my appreciation.

"The fuck, dude?! You're seeing a college chick now?"

"What...?"

Fulton tried to use my computer without my permission again. "She's that girl from that fair, isn't she?!"

"Her friends ditched her. I gave her a ride back to her school. That's all." Fulton was still angry at me, and I didn't know why.

"What? She added me."

"You know Hannah likes you, right?"

That took my off guard. "Oh... So?"

"You shouldn't lead her on."

"I didn't lead her on."

"Yeah, you did! You know what you did."

That was the last real conversation I had with him. For the rest of the school year it was incredibly awkward, because we were still roommates. Hannah also stopped texting me around that time.

Two hours went by, I was still in front of my computer. Fulton didn't leave. He was on his bed, blasting music through his ear buds. I used to intervene to tell him to tone it down. He was one of the few who actually had a shot at a real music school. But after our fight, I stopped caring if he'd go deaf.

The red dot on my messenger appeared!

"Yes! Let's do it!"

I wanted to hug my pillow and scream! I was ecstatic, but I couldn't let Fulton know. So, I took a quick sip of my beer and typed right back:

"When are you free?"

"I'm free this Friday. What's your schedule like?"

"Friday works for me. You have any movies in mind?"

I actually had band practice that Friday, but I decided to ditch. We planned on seeing this foreign film that was supposed to be really good. Her friend recommended it. But on Friday, after I arrived at the theater, she texted me and said she couldn't make it. "Family emergency," she said.

I messaged her a few more times after that. She was always enthusiastic until the last minute. There was always an emergency with her. I ended up watching a lot of these indie films by myself, and all the melancholy endings left me extra depressed afterwards.

I started to grow impatient. That became apparent in my messages. She scolded me for not being understanding and then proceeded to lecture me on how busy final weeks are in college.

I should've quit then... I should've stop. But I couldn't. I was like an addict. It was like gambling. If only I put in more effort. If only I waited for the right moment... All these "if"s.

On one of those movie nights alone, I saw a dancing tote bag inside a bookstore. The ballerina on that bag reminded me of her. I messaged her and told her I bought something for her. That alone was enough to get her out.

We met at a coffee shop near her school. We talked like the first time we met. It was pleasant, but it wasn't as spontaneous as before. Perhaps it was because we were both caffeinated and not intoxicated. The chemistry that I thought we had wasn't really there. But like a gambler, I couldn't quit.

I drove her back to her dorm and gave her her bag. She really liked it. She gave me a quick hug and told me it was her color, black and hot pink. After she stepped out of my truck, she waited by the curb.

"Come on. Let me give you a proper hug."

I crawled out my truck, and she put her arms around me. I lingered on, and she was okay with that. My body was a bit numb from all the endorphins shooting up to my brain. As we pulled away, I leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. She was a bit taken aback, but she smiled and turned her cheek. I then kissed her on the cheek.

Then out of impulse, I put my hand on her other cheek and pressed my lips onto hers. She didn't push back... It was all very surreal...

It wasn't a perfect kiss. I was sure that I blew it. But soon after, she gave me a quick peck right back!

"Bye."

She waved and then strolled towards her dorm. I kept my eyes on her the whole time. I could still taste her lips that were a bit oily from her lip gloss. Her smile was imprinted inside my head from that point on.