Outtakes Of A Walking Mistake by Anthony Paull Read Free Book Online Page A

can’t swallow. I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth for moisture as I lean on the red brick wall outside of the green room. Heavy in thought, I ponder how to approach Billy.
    Unfortunately, I draw a blank.
    Why does dating have to be difficult? Why can’t boys just come to me? I’ve always planned for my Prince Charming to lay the groundwork, to mount his noble steed and slay the fire-breathing dragon in order to wake me from this nightmare known as my life.
    Yet, here I remain, the pursuer, clinging to the miniscule hope that Billy will like me, and therefore, won’t think I’m a psycho for following him around and scheduling myself into his life.
    “Billy!” I call, as the door opens, and he appears. In a rush, he barely acknowledges me, shooting me an annoyed, disgruntled look and acting like I must have him confused with another person. And he’s a really good actor, because he almost has me convinced that there’s two of him, and this is just his evil twin: the one too stupid to realize we’re an item. “Hey, how did your audition go?” I say, catching up to him.
    Refusing to respond, he presses on as a light wind troubles the palms in the courtyard where the American flag waves like an enthusiastic friend, reminding me that I have the freedom of speech and I need to tell Billy the truth: I’m carrying his baby!
    Not really! But a boy can wish!
    No, seriously. I just need him to know that I know how pathetic I look, but I’m afraid if I don’t follow him, I’ll never get ahead (or at least give head) in this lifetime, and I’ll forever be alone, wondering what could have been if only I had the balls to open my mouth.
    My, my, heavy is the weight of the tongue of the first to have feelings.
    “So I have your schedule, just like you asked,” I say. “And I know you have to mentor kids at the elementary school in about –” I check the hand on my yellow watch. “Let’s say about fifteen minutes. So, how about we kill time by doing coffee?”
    Tired of my routine, Billy swings around with hot air oozing from his nostrils. Still, he manages to contain himself; he’s such a gentleman. “Dude, I don’t KNOW you.”
    “You know my name.”
    “That doesn’t mean I know you.”
    “Well…I know you, and that should count for something.”
    “Not really.”
    “It counts to me.”
    The exhausted look on Billy’s tanned face signals he realizes this conversation is going in a circle, and he’s dizzy. “What do you want?”
    “Coffee?”
    “No.”
    I snap my finger. “Damn!”
    “Anything else?”
    “YES! You know what? I don’t like coffee anyway.”
    Billy is stumped. “Are you on something?”
    No, I’m just thirsty, and in my heart, I’m as hungry as ever. And just this once I’d like a nibble, a sample of what it’s like to spend time alone with someone who might see me as something other than a friend. Oh, and if you could see how jealous I am each time I see ‘more than friends’ holding hands on campus, you would understand why I’m making a fool of myself over you.
    “I just want to hang out,” I say, fighting myself from tearing up. “And I have no idea how to get there without looking crazy. So here I am, crazy.”
    “You’re not crazy,” Billy sighs. Then silently, he allows me a moment to contain myself, as three short girls from the cross-country team sprint by in purple shorts; fighting for female dominance, each seems determined to lead. “Listen, man. I’m heading over to the elementary school. You ok?” he asks.
    “Yeah,” I mumble.
    “Cool, I’m out. We’ll talk,” he assures me, like we’re platonic. And in his mind, we might be. Still, something very whiny inside tells me not to give up.
    “Wait! I don’t have a ride!” I call out. “That’s all I need. We don’t have to stop for coffee.” From a distance, Billy fails to slow, shaking his head no. “I’ll sit in the trunk!” Still, he refuses to bend. Damn! What now? With my