Blossoming Madness (Roman Numeral Seven)

It’s not spying if his mom knows I’m here. Sure, Andrew doesn’t know that I’m currently crouched ninja-style outside of his bedroom with my ear pressed against the door but his mom does. And she happens to think that it’s hilarious. Therefor, it’s ok.

What I’m hearing, on the other hand, well I’m sure what I think about that yet. Andrew is arguing with Matt on the phone.

“Dude, I can’t just tell her!” Andrew exclaims.

“Because...well because you can’t just do that. She’d laugh in my face...Yes, I like her...yeah, she’s gorgeous and wonderful and hilarious...but just think-...She’ll laugh at me! Or run away. Or both!”

Who is he talking about? Is it Amanda? She is the perfect girl...not good enough for Andrew of course, like I am. Wait, what? Did I just...

“What if she doesn’t like me?”

No, I don’t like Andrew. I can’t.

“Maybe I could just hint at it.”

Hint at it how? ‘Hey, I like someone and it may or may not be you!’ ?

“She might think that I’m joking, though!”

If he said he liked me I’d...I’d...

“Can you even see her saying, “I like you too?”

...probably kiss him. 

Oh my goodness. I like Andrew. I stand (or rather crouch) frozen in shock. How is this even possible? But then again...remembering the past few days...

“Really? You’re going to sing that song? We’re not in elementary school, dude.”

Wait, what song? What song!?

“I’m not in love with Fia! I just...like her, that’s all.”

Oh. my. god. Before I can stop myself I knock on his door, my hands shaking.

“Hold on, Matt. Someone’s knocking on my door...No I don’t know if it’s her.”

He opens the door and sees me standing here. 

“Hey, I’ll call you back, k?...yeah, it’s her...Dude, bye!” He hangs up his phone, blushing furiously.

“Talking about me?” I joke, walking into his room.

“Uh, no, Matt just guessed it was you somehow. You know, he’s psychic...or something.” Andrew is still embarrassed. I don’t know why I’m not! Maybe I should just pretend like I never heard anything. 

“Yeah sure. So listen, I want to talk to you about something.” I say a bit nervously. 

I lie down at the top of his bed, near the pillows and pat a spot next to me. He walks over, perhaps a little more unsure than usual, and takes his usual spot next to me. Whenever I come over we lay and look at his poster covered ceiling pondering the serious matters of life such as what we've had for lunch and how on earth people like Mrs. Moore get married. I’ve memorized every detail of his ceiling from the Beatles poster to the giant photo of us at the beach last summer.

“What did you want to talk about?” Andrew asks.

He stretches out on the bed and his shirt rises a bit above his waist. Oh wait, am I staring? Lookawaylookawaylookaway.

“Yeah, uhm, so you know that I don’t eat...” 

I wait for his response tensely. I cross and uncross my legs while he just looks at me, once again, not blinking. I wonder if he closes his eyes when he kisses...

“Yes, I know.” Andrew responds, seeming a bit more relaxed.

“Well, I’m.. an-anorexic. When I said ‘my work’ last week I meant my work at keeping myself skinny.”

Ashamed, I hide my head in my hands. Andrew moves over and pulls me close to him. Tears start to fall from my eyes and I just fall apart. I really shouldn’t be doing this, pushing my problems on him, but he doesn’t complain and leaning on him just feels so natural. 

“I...I...just didn’t know how to...to tell you.” I practically wail. 

Jesus, maybe I should talk about my problems more often. 

“Shhhhh, it’s ok, it’s ok.” He says calmly. 

I turn my body in to hug him and he does the same. There is no distance between us at all and if I wasn’t such an emotional wreck I’d probably be hyper aware of that fact. All that matters right now is that he’s not pushing me away, out the door, in disgust. 

“You know you’re beautiful, right?” He whispers in my ear. 

I do the ever so elegant gasp-snort-giggle that makes ever guy fall to their knees in awe. Andrew just laughs and nods.

“You know it’s true.”

“I wish I did.”

He pulls away from me so he can look me straight in the eyes.

“You are the most gorgeous girl I have ever met,” He says getting a mischievous look on his face, “Even more stunning than Aphrodite! Or Britney Spears. You are the goddess of Lincoln High School!” He practically yells.

I start laughing and he joins in. I am overwhelmed with emotions but luckily not one of them is sadness. Only now does it hit me and I am lying in a bed with Andrew. Andrew from freshman year. Andrew who took me to the sophomore homecoming and played hide and seek on the dance floor. Andrew who wears a retainer at night, who brushes his bottom teeth before his top, who likes frosted flakes with chocolate milk and is a self declared Capricorn despite his April birthday. 


Andrew Lehman, who for the first time in three years, is crying.