Dear Albert,
Currently I'm in a crush rut (if thats a logical term), I like my Best Friends Brother?!?!?! I think he's an awesome person and kind of hot (especially his British accent). I know her well enough where it's not like she'll hate it, but she just thinks her brother going out with anyone is weird. Are there any pros to this situation, or am I crossing the friendship boundary line. Help is appreciated.
Sincerely
Confused Crusher
Dear Confused Crusher,
SICK! It's basically like you're in love with your best friend. Except a BOY VERSION. GAGTIME, Doctorow! CAN YOU HEAR ME BARFING UP MY GRAVY NUGGETS RIGHT NOW BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT I AM DOING.
Just kidding. Of course there are pros to this situation!
Pro: Because you (presumably) hang out at your friend's house, you actually have had the opportunity to get to know this guy. Like, wow. Seriously, do you know how hard it is to get close to people? Like, actually get to find out what makes them tick, what makes them special and awesome?! *channels Holden* I mean, really, everything in high school is so phony. If you can connect with one person on a real level, it's worth the risk. Every time somebody gives me a present, it ends up making me sad. All morons hate it when you call them a moron. In my mind, I'm probably the biggest sex addict you ever saw. *cuts circuit to Holden* Sorry, I got a little carried away.
Pro: Hot Brit in the heezy. I mean, really.
But there are cons:
Con: It make strain your relationship with your girlfriend.
Con: He may not like you back! Awkward.
Con: If/when you guys break up, iz gunbe suuuupa awkward.
Con: One less single girl in this school is terrible FOR ME. Statistically speaking, I'm pretty much never going to have a girlfriend.
But like I said, if it's more than just a superficial crush, it's probably worth it. Here's what you need to do:
1. Try to figure out if this guy actually likes you. Does he flirt with you? Is he single? If he had to choose between you and a mozzarella stick, would he pick you seven times out of ten? If have answered yes to these questions, proceed to step 2.
2. Talk to your friend. Make her swear to secrecy that she will honor your friendship and not reveal your crush. Ask her if it would be okay with her if you dated her brother. Don't say, "Can I lick your brother on the mouth parts," because then she'll think you're being KIDDING and she'll blab. Be serious, you naked lady with clothes on! Make your friend know that your feelings are real. Once you get her blessing—
3. Omit that woman from the equation. Don't ask your friend to relay the message to her own brother. That's creepy. And it means she'll be forever entwined in your budding love. You don't need that, unless you want a camera person to put it all on YouTube. (You don't.)
4. Reveal your feelings. Alone. I mean, alone with the guy. You can be goofy here. Actually, we prefer it. My suggestions:
-Ugh, my brain has a crush on you. It's so annoying. Should we hang out or something?
-Take me to a movie so I can throw popcorn in your ear.
-I brush my teeth, like, all the days. Wanna hang out sometime?
If you've gotten this far, congratulations, you probably have a new British boyfriend and are now splashing in pools of sunshine glitter. Excuse me while I die a slow, lonely death.
Albert.
Why would he end his column with a period after his name? Was it a typo? There's so much finality to it—does that mean he's resigned to die a slow, lonely death? Because that's kind of sad. I wonder if Dear Albert has problems of his own. What if he's a jerk in real life? He probably is. Most of them are. I'm overthinking again. It brings me down.
"Don't overthink," is my older sister's motto. This is probably why she has 12 billions boyfriends. Every time I call her at college she's got a new one. I can't keep them all straight—probably because they all sound the same. "Dishy," "manmeat," "built like a jungle gym." (I still don't get that one, but I'll never tell Juliet that.) How could a girl like two guys at once? I never understood, until—
—The bell rings. Homeroom clears out, but I wait for Sam. I have to wait for Sam. He's been so distant since the lock-in, but then again, maybe I have, too.
"Anna!" he smiles, shyly. His smile is amazing. "How...how...how are you?"
"In utter awe of the apathy of the common teenager. You know, the usual." We head out to the hall. "Why do you think Dear Albert put a period after his name in today's column? Do you think he's depressed?"
Sam stops, looks alarmed. I glance around for Jeff Wellstone. I'd be freaked out about him, too, if I were Sam. But he's nowhere in sight.
"Depressed? No. I mean, may-may-may-maybe. I don't know. He put a pa-pa-period after his name? I didn't no-notice that," he spits out.
Confirmed: I've been overthinking.
"Hey," Sam starts, but his stutter catches him for a moment. He closes his eyes in frustration. I know he's in pain, but I love it when he does that. I've never seen a more genuine facial expression on anyone. I'm probably going to Hell for loving it. I bet I am. I mean, definitely. Anna! Hey! Overthinking! "Would you mind re-re-reading over my student council... ... you know, speech?" he asks, and pulls some papers out of a folder. When I take them, my hand brushes the end of his navy blue sweater. It's softer than I'd expect.
"I'd love to!" I say. Oh brother, I sound like a moron. Who gets THAT excited to read a speech? I brush my bangs in front of my eyes. "I mean, yeah." I say. I think of Sam giving his speech with his stutter. "Are you sure you're up for this?"
Sam laughs a little.
"No," he finally says. "But I figure, it's some-some-something I care-care about, so it's worth the," he gets choked up again. I wait. "Worth the risk," he says finally.
It sounded so familiar.
***
Does anyone else do homework in their bathroom? Besides me? Sitting on the floor, with the fan on, under a pile of homework... it's almost like my little AP nerd sanctuary. But is it weird? I'm a freak, right? What am I going to do about this habit when I'm in college? Does Juliet ever do homework in the bathroom? Does Juliet ever do homework? Like, at all?
I grab a piece of toilet paper and smash a silverfish on the floor. There are downsides to doing homework in the bathroom. Maybe a college library wouldn't be so bad.
The thing is, I'm supposed to be reading The Grapes of Wrath, but I can't stop thinking about what Sam said. About risk. Also I hate The Grapes of Wrath! Hate it! First book I've ever hated, probably.
"Dammit, Sam," I say aloud. He's right, after all. About risk. Even if what I want doesn't make sense, I have to go for it. Otherwise, I'll always wonder what could have happened. Sorry, Sam. I have to take your advice.
And just like that, I have made a decision. I pull out the first piece of scrap paper I find in my backpack and write the letter I've been wanting to write for months.
Dear Albert,
You may not know me—I'm Anna Ingram, age 16, brown hair. I write Opinion pieces for the newspaper. I'm a nerd. I can't wear nail polish because I peel it off immediately. My earlobes are kind of fat.
And I have a crush on you.
So here's what: Will you go to Turnabout with me? If yes, please meet me in the parking lot by The Rock on Friday at 3:15. Maybe you don't even know what I look like. I'll wear a red hat, or whatever.
You can publish this if you want. I don't care. This is my risk. I trust you.
Anna Ingram.
p.s. I brush my teeth, like, all the days.
The next day, I don't even realize until I've put the letter in The Dear Albert mailbox that I didn't write it on scrap paper at all.
I wrote it on the last page of Sam's student council speech.
Yep, I am definitely going to Hell.
Thanks to trichick1225 for this week's question!
Do you love you some Dear Albert? Read it from the beginning here!
Post a comment!