i retch for you

“I just worship her. I can’t keep this to myself any longer, man!" 

I was in the back seat of a huge bus, squeezed against the window by a row of hormonal teens all wanting to tell me about the Facebook status of their fickle hearts. We were exchanging dating tips and swapping photos of exes and generally having a grand time, when suddenly, a boy I didn't know firmly planted himself in front of me.

"Howdoyouthinkagirlwilltakeacheesygesture?"

I blinked for two seconds. At my age, everything is cheesy.

"Cheesy like how?" I asked.

"Like going to her house and giving her flowers and asking her to be my girlfriend?" He whispered. Hopefully.

"Er... depends on the kind of girl," I answered, unwilling to dash his cheesiness to the ground. "Also on how she feels about you."

"I've asked her to the dance and she said yes."

"Well, there you go! She must like you!" I breathed a silent sigh of relief. The boy looked nice and I didn't want to shatter his romantic fantasies, no matter how cornball. "Who is she?"

He shot to his feet, eyes darting around, and bent to my ear. "You know her. Please don't tell anyone!"

"It's Cathy," he blurted out.

Cathy! I gave the boy a look of respect. At the same time, my heart sank.

"I don't think the flowers will do."

I didn't think just anyone would do. But who was I to judge? My heart sank deeper. I hate unrequited love of all kinds and I had the feeling this was going to be one.

It wasn't only that Cathy was pretty and well-traveled, but her mind had a sharpness and insightfulness way beyond her age. Her view of things were unconventional and always questioning. No, at seventeen (especially at seventeen), flowers and a lame will-you-be-my-girlfriend will not cut it!

I checked out the young man in front of me. He looked so stressed his Adam's apple was bobbing like a life buoy in a tsunami-to-be. He wasn't bad looking. He sounded smart. Geeky. Nervous. Fatally, ignominiously nervous. This was his tragic flaw. Oh, hell. Cathy, with her flaming hair and sarcastic tongue, will eat him for breakfast. My heart did another nose-dive and drowned.

“I can’t keep this to myself any longer! I've loved her for a year," he broke down. And to my absolute horror, he started gagging.

"Hey! Chill, will you?" I patted the poor boy's back. How, oh how did I get into this fix?

"Tell me all about it," I asked him gently. 

He nodded vigorously and retched.

God! Was young love always like this? 

(to be continued