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“Wait, I can’t sue you for giving me permission to consume alcohol, weak ticker and all?”
“That brings me to my second point. Your heart’s not weak, Maddison. It’s healthy. I told you that back at the office. You just have to?—”
“I know, I know. Lower my stress levels. Easier said than done.”
“That’s my third point…” I pause and look down at the amber liquid in my pint glass. There’s a ring of froth around the edge. In my periphery, I see a few more locals filter in through the door.
“Which is…?” Maddison prompts.
I heave my shoulders up and let them fall as I exhale. “Look… this is sort of hard to say, but I’m going to say it. You’re not the only one. Who’s having symptoms, I mean. Stress and anxiety symptoms. I have them, too. High blood pressure. So I know a thing or two about trying to relax.”
“You? High blood pressure? You’re the picture of good health. Look at you…” She waves a hand down my body. “Stilllean, stronger-looking than ever, glowing complexion. Nick, you look like you should be in one of those outdoorsy ads, where the young guy is setting up a tent under the stars and then everyone who sees the image runs out and buys a tent. And never uses it, by the way. It sits in the garage, untouched.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
“Maybe. Okay, Ihavebeen wooed by REI marketing. That was a major waste of three hundred and forty dollars. Which, by the way, I wish I had in my account right now. That’s beside the point. The point is, you really have high blood pressure?”
“I do.”
“And yet, you’re sitting here eating nachos and drinking beer?”
“I don’t think it’s a diet thing. I’ve taken blood tests to check all those markers. This is psychosomatic.”
“English, please, for this English major.”
“I mean, it’s a head thing.” I tap my temple to illustrate the point.
By now, Maddison and I have our heads bowed toward each other in our discussion, and I notice we keep turning our knees toward each other, too. I pick up on body language, and ours speaks to the same feeling I had the first night I talked to her. That was ages ago, but I remember it.
How the first time I met her, it felt like I’d known her my whole life.
How easy it was to be around her. Not just be around her, but really bemyselfaround her. How I sometimes knew what she was going to say, even before she said it.
It was the only time in my life I’ve clicked with anyone quite that strongly. It was instant.
Visceral.
Impressive.
Life changing, even.
All that year, I felt sort of like I was floating. Nothing got me down. And if it did, I’d talk about it with Maddison and we’d find something in the situation to laugh about.
Time flew, too. It was like the whole week was late nights watching movies with her, or listening to music, or studying, and then we’d be at another Friday, setting out boards for that checkers club we ran.
It got to be popular, too. We usually had a big turnout. People recognized us around campus as the club founders. We even got our photo in the school paper.
Then, we messed it up.
Toward the end of our freshman year, we kissed.
I can’t remember which one of us leaned in first. Can’t remember who closed the gap between our lips. But I remember how our faces were so close, her eyelashes nearly brushing against mine. I remember the breath getting sucked straight out of me, and how I felt dizzy after. I remember how soft her lips were, how intense the kiss was.
How I thought:finally.
And how, at the same time, it scared the daylights out of me.
I remember staying up that entire night in my bed, tossing and turning and wondering if everything was messed up for good. Our friendship. Our rapport. Our dynamic. Then waking up feeling like crap the next day, with bags under my eyes and a throbbing headache. Stumbling to the cafeteria and buying lunch and thinking that I’d just made a huge mistake.
