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Questions and I Woulds: Writing Ex |
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It was a strangely cold evening during mid-spring when she sat next to me on the couch and asked me The Question. And this Question was not like other Questions that Haley asks me every week. Most of her Questions were challenges to my brain on the female mind.
The very first Question she asked me was on our fifth date together, and it went like this: “Hey, Brian, why do you think guys are the ones who wear condoms?”
After choking a bit on my own spit, I replied with, “Probably because it works better than the female condom.”
“But the female condom wasn’t made until much later! I think it’s very sexist. Don’t you think so?”
You would think I would be caught in a web by now, but I answered firmly, sealing the Question, “Well, maybe. At least guys have to put it on something, where it won’t harm our bodies. Girls have to, and that’s why they probably put it off because most ladies wouldn’t want anything damaged down there.”
“Wow. You’re right, huh?” After that, she nodded, taking my answer with pleasure. I thanked God that she didn’t slap me and that she would never ask another Question like that again. Little did I know, a week later, she would ask me another Question.
“Brian, how did you know that girls wore condoms inside of them?”
And a week later, she asked another one.
“What do you think of platform shoes, Brian?”
And another one a week later.
“Do these pants make my butt look big?”
And a week later.
“Why must guys stare at boobs? Or butts? Why not the waist or something?”
And this went on for quite some time.
“Do you think it’s a woman up there who’s about to commit suicide, or a guy?”
Soon, I began to associate every Thursday with The Question’s day. She would ask me one Question, and if I answered it wrong, she would ask me another Question that was much harder but still related to the first Question’s topic, and she would continue until I got it right. The farthest I’ve gone with wrong Answers was about four, and I had planned to keep it that way.
But then she asked me THE Question. And this Question has a, “the,” because it is that bad@ss of a Question.
Anyway, I was watching some random sh!t on the television when she came by with a huge bowl of popcorn. She sat down next to me on the couch, put the blue plastic tub on the coffee table, and leaned on me. I was surprised by her motion - Haley rarely watched TV with me, let alone LEANED on me while watching TV with me - but took the affectionate gesture gladly.
And yes, stupid me, I forgot to look on the calender: it was Question Thursday.
Once the cartoons were on commercial, Haley said, “Brian?”
“Yeah?”
“I have a question for you.”
Now when I heard this, I backed away a bit. This was the first time in she had EVER given an introduction to a Question. And she had asked me over a hundred of these stupid things!
Gulping, I said, “Y-Yeah?” Light brown eyes looked at me, and she asked THE Question in a casual tone.
“What would you do to prove you love me?”
At that moment, I didn’t know what to say. So I blurted out, “I’m not sure. What would you like me to get you?”
“BZZT. Wrong. You can’t just ask me want I want you to do.”
“Then what type of answer do you want?”
She simply shrugged. “I don’t know. What would you do to prove you love me?”
I had only stared before I said, “A lot.”
“Of what?” Is all she said before she stood, and said that she was going back home, and would talk to me later. And true to her word, she did talk to me, but when Thursday came around, and I continued to answer The Question wrong, she ignored me the entire day.
When the ignoring continuing into Friday, Saturaday, Sunday, and even Monday, I began to think, What would I do to prove I loved Haley? So here I am, sitting in my room, at my desk, twirling a pencil in front of a blank notebook page, thinking of things I would do to prove I loved her.
I’ve been sitting here for an hour, and I could think of nothing. Absolutely NOTHING. I groaned, and put my elbows on the desk with my head in my hands. How could I not think of one thing to prove my feelings to her?
Her, Haley Justine Falven, the most fabulous, weird, stubborn, and most of all, crazy girl that clawed her way into my heart when I met her a few years ago? Then again, what made Haley different from all the fabulous, weird, stubborn, and most of all, crazy girls I’ve met in my lifetime - which isn’t much by the way - as a horny teenage boy?
She was shorter than me. Then again, most girls and other people, are too. Being close to seven foot ain’t fun. But she was MUCH shorter than me. Like, a two foot difference. But no matter how tall I feel, she always makes me feel like I’m the perfect height when she jumps me for a kiss.
She’s stubborn as f*ck. Once she says she’s going to do something, she will hurt you to get her way. She has done it to me several times before even when I was her, “beloved boyfriend.” It takes hours of convincing when she doesn’t want to do something.
She’s crazy. To the point she would plan for a week just to push you into a pool of some kind. And I’m not talking about just water in that pool. Enough said.
What made Haley so different? I know plenty of girls, but what makes her the one I want to love?
Maybe it’s her smile. Jordan’s smile never makes my heart pound ten times faster when she grins because she made an evil plot work out.
Maybe it’s her eyes. Because Katherine’s eyes never make me want to kiss her even when she’s boiling over mad or when she’s crying and looking like sh!t.
Maybe it’s her voice. Her voice is the only one I know that can’t sing even halfway decently.
Or maybe… it’s just her. Because there is only one Haley Favlen? Because she’s irreplacable? Because no one else could replace that smile, those light brown eyes looking up at me, or her unforgettable shower singing voice?
But then, what would I do to prove I love those features; her?
What makes her different from my friends then? She’s nowhere identical, but I want to be around her just as much, if not more? What makes me want to handcuff her to my side when she wants to run away? Hold her until she gives up?
Byron has a similar sense of humor - a sadistic one. The two of them are constantly pulling pranks and laughing at the expense of others. Then again, they both know when it’s right to stop, and they know when they went too far. But unlike Bryon, Haley knows how to apologize and mean it.
Vince and her think on the same level. They both have a lot of brain power, and they know how to weave ther way around things. They see a loophole, the two go for it. Always on the computer, and constantly acting like nerds together. But Haley doesn’t hide herself from the world; she thrives on it.
Patt is probably her favorite out of all my friends. He recently came out of the closet, and the two of them could shop for hours, and talk about stuff I had no idea existed. They do the girly thing together, and Patt can do that type of thing without a second thought. But Haley has another side of her that’s not girly that Patt sometimes hates.
She’s not perfect: never will be, but she’s still… Haley. She hasn’t changed all the years I’ve known her, and she hasn’t changed one of her ideals to be with me… except for the fact she thought tall people suck. She still does at times, usually when she’s mad at me, but she always says sorry, and does her Haley thing.
I groan.
I still have no idea what I would do? Does she want me to think realistically? Or is she just speaking metaphorically?
“Damnit. Stupid Question. Stupid wrong Answers.”
I stare at my notebook and c**k my head. Without really noticing it,, I had written an entire page full of gibberish and nonsense. Phrases like, “Smiles at her sadistic humor even though I don’t agree,” and, “Like I’m standing behind a mountian of clothes from the shopping mall.” I had even draw a couple of bees and question marks and condoms and shoes. I slam my head onto my desk with a thud. I thought that the note book would help me, not make me doodle random sh!t!
Opening my eyes, I stare at a picture of dog poo. The drawing probably came from when I was walking Haley’s dog - I swear that mutt hates me because I took Haley away - a couple weeks ago. The animal had POOPED while it was WALKING, causing me to step on the POOP. Stupid thing.
When I went back to Haley’s and began scrubbing my shoes in an angry fashion, Haley went off for the mall, and told me to watch the house. I did, and an hour later, she came back with a brand new pair of shoes.
I smile at the memory. Despite her bad points, Haley could be one of the best friends/girlfriend a guy could have.
Suddenly, it hits me.
I find a space on the crowded piece of paper, and write, “I would walk your moody, poopy dog forever.”
Then another.
“I’d let you push me into a pool filled with green gelatin every Fourth of July.”
And another.
“I would wear a condom even if I wasn’t horny.”
And another.
“I’d watch Wiley Coyote get sent to the moon continuously.”
Before I knew it, I was writing a bunch of a sentences onto the notebook without stopping. One after another popped into my head.
“I would wear those sh!tty platform shoes with you on Twin’s Day.”
“I’d willingly go shopping with you for clothes with Patt.”
“I would watch you harass some random dude without complaining.”
“I’d watch that Sex Education video for hours.”
“I would never look at another girl again.”
“I wouldn’t talk to my friends about guy stuff in front of you.”
“I’d get you that computer you wanted, even if it costs me $10,000.”
“I’d climb mountins for you.”
“I would tell you that you looked sexy in sweats and a tee-shirt.”
“I’d tell you how I knew that girls wore condoms inside of them.”
“I would be the one up there on that sky scraper.”
“I would build that sky scraper alone.”
“I’d buy you anything you wanted.”
“I would give myself to science so they could see why I was so tall.”
“I would let you ask me Questions every Thursday for as long as you wanted and I would answer them gladly.”
After a while, I saw that I had filled out about half a dozen pages. It was then that I heard the door bell.
Dingg.
Standing up, I leave the notebook on my desk. I take my time going down the stairs, shaking my sore hand. When I answered the door, to my surprise, it’s Haley: my Haley.
“Haley.”
“…hey,” she looks nervous from the way she bites her lip and looks away. “I… can I come in? Please?”
I open the door a bit more, and stand to the side. “Sure.”
She clears out of my way, and I shut the door behind her. Before I opened my mouth, she said, “I think I forgot my notebook for Chem last time I came. Can I look around for it?”
I nod, and she’s off looking for it. I sigh, and head into the kitchen for a soda.
Half an hour later, we still haven’t found it. Haley nods her brunette head towards the stairs, and I give her a silent access upstairs. The first room she enters is my room.
“Ah! Found it!” She said once I entered the room. “Huh?” I stare at the note book in her hands. I felt my face turn a red color when she reads aloud, “‘I would help you beat Archimonde since I beat him a couple months ago’?!” Her brown eyes brighten a couples when she continues to read the list.
“Hey! Haley!” I bend down to snatch the sprial away, but she turns away from me, and towards the door.
“‘I’d listen to you sing in the shower every night’.”
My face went redder. I tried to get the notebook back, but Haley just went down the stairs at a leisurely pace. “Haley, give that back!”
“‘I would stare into your eyes all day, every day’?”
“Haley!”
When we both hit the bottom floor, I plucked the notebook out of her hands, and held it up high. The girl pouted, and said, “Hey! I wasn’t done reading that!” she jumped up, “Brian, you know this isn’t fair!”
I stick my tongue out at her. She mirrors the action, and continues to attack me. I begin to laugh, and after a while, she does too. I watch as her face contorts from mad, to confused, to amused, to just full-out laughter.
She stops jumping for the book, and she says, “Hey Brian?”
“Hm?” Haley’s smile blinds me with its glittering shine. I’m taken aback, and I let me guard down for a moment - was this really my Haley shining like that?
She dances onto her tip-toes, and places a kiss onto my cheek when I bent down, and whispers as she steals the notebook once more, “I’d let you ask me Questions if you’d stay by my side.”
I stand there like an idiot as she skips out the door, waving cheerily at me, and calls, “I’ll be keeping my notebook now!”
 Ukeire · Tue Aug 18, 2009 @ 06:15am · 0 Comments |
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