My first college was a little liberal arts school in Jackson, Tennessee called Lambuth University. Stupidly I chose the school but I did have great times while attending and I met Carrie there so the trade off was so much more in favor for the school than I can ever express. Anyway.....I had a wee crush on a guy for a short period of time. He was a photographer and a bit of nerd...ok, he was a big nerd but some reason I thought he was cute.
I wanted to ask him out but if you've known me for any length of time, you know that I lack all confidence in my feminine powers or attractiveness. So any courage summoned from within to make any sort of a move, takes insane spontaneous bravado or a great deal of encouraging pep talk. In this case, it was my good friend Bob and a couple hours of chatting that pushed me forward.
Bob knew Steve's family for years. I took Bob as authority in dealing with Steve. I also had Bob as a good friend and big brother type while attending Lambuth. I don't know what sparked me to ask Bob his opinion of Steve on this particular night but I did. We sat and discussed my secret crush for a good number of hours. He revved me up, filling my head and heart with Herculean bravery. The adrenalin was mounting. I hesitated several times only to have Bob shake off the doubt. Finally, after my long, winded talk with Bob, I left to find Steve. Bob's final words echoed in my head, "The worse that could happen is that he says he's flattered."
It wouldn't kill me. So, he rejects me. It's not like I was wanting to marry him and have millions of babies with him. A little crush. A fond attraction to him. Just silly hope of dating him. That's all. I could do it. I would do it.
It took me a little bit to find him. He had a fraternity meeting but I found him after it had ended. We walked around the quad, and like the young goofy coed that I was, I revealed my young goofy crush. I remember the rosy cheeks of embarrassment. I remember the pulsing nervousness in my chest. I remember the rambling incoherency of my stumbling words. Then I paused.
And he spoke.
"I'm flattered."
I think if he had said anything else first, I would have been upset. I would have left him crestfallen. I would have teared up a little. Instead, I smiled a dorky little smile that was a plug to a larger guffaw that would have bellowed out of me at any moment. I couldn't wait to leave him to tell Bob. To share my moment of failure. My glorious moment of fantastically funny failure. It was the best rejection a girl could ask for.
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