I Looked Across

I look across the bar. I freeze, recognizing someone. There she is, standing in the middle of the bar, talking with her friends. Her long, blonde hair bounces on her shoulders as she laughs along with them, unconsciously covering her smile as she does so. Her green eyes glitter as the lights of the bar shine over her. I want to know what they’re laughing about, what they could possibly be talking about. I think of all the possibilities. Maybe they’re talking about all the homework they have to complete tonight. Maybe they’re talking about some crazy story another one of their friends told them earlier today. The thought crosses my mind that maybe they’re talking about a guy she walked by today and couldn’t help but think was kind of cute, and I wish that guy was me even though I know for a fact it isn’t. I gather all of my thoughts and come out of my trance. I walk over to the bar counter, take a seat, and order a beer. She’s only a couple feet away from me now. I can’t help but look right at her, entranced by her face. Her eyes. Her nose. Her smile. That one smile, a smile that beams like sunshine from hundreds of feet away despite the fact that she always covers it. I’ve always wanted to tell her how much I love that smile. How much it brightens my day.

I realize I haven’t stopped looking at her for what’s probably been about 30 seconds now. I avert my eyes with the worry that her and her friends will look over and think how creepy I’m am for staring at her like that. I can’t help it sometimes. I look forward to going to school every single day just so that I can look across the room and see her face in the classes we share, seeing the inquisitive look in her eyes as she learns the new material. I wish I could just gather the courage to talk to her. I realize I don’t even have to make it that complicated. I just have to say “Hey” or “How’s it going?” or something to break the ice. I can never make it that simple. I always make it complicated. Every time I think about something to say, rehearse it in my head, I can never find the courage to go through with it. That's partly because I end up completely forgetting what I has just rehearsed as soon as I go up to her. It's partly because I end up suffocating in my own insecurities.

In those moments, I feel like I might never be able to just break the ice. I think to myself every day about what she must be like as a person. I barely know anything about her, but already I picture this energetic, bubbly girl who always has a positive attitude and is never bored. I imagine a girl with a beautiful singing voice and a caring personality and incredible skills in soccer and who always wants to try something new. I imagine how she would encourage me to join her in the crazy things she does, find something new for us to do together every day. I imagine going to all of her games, cheering her on. I imagine her coming to all of my choir concerts, praising and supporting me as I sing. We could walk in the nearby forest together when we have free time, talk for hours, never get bored. I imagine the life we could have. And every time I think about it, I always realize it’s just a hopeless fantasy. Once again, though, I tell myself I have the opportunity to make that hopeless fantasy a reality. Maybe all I have to do is just get the courage to say something to her, one tiny little thing. Maybe that’s all it would take.

I think about what I should do, how I should talk to her, what I should say. I rehearse over and over again in my head, looking up at her every now and again to see if I can actually catch her with her smile uncovered. I sit in my own thoughts, barely touching the soda I ordered. After a while, I notice her gesture over to the seats by the counter as she grabs her and her friends’ stuff. Her friends leave for a minute, and I figure she must have told them she would save them a seat. Her friends leave, and she walks over to the counter. She finds a couple of empty seats and sets her friends’ stuff down on two seats to her right. She takes her seat right next to me. Literally right next to me. She looks down at her phone, checking her Instagram, and I know that this could be my chance. My brain becomes scrambled at the idea of talking to her, once again forgetting everything I’ve just rehearsed. This time, though, I mentally force myself to say something. Anything. Whatever comes out of my mouth.

I hear myself go, “Hey.” That’s it. That’s all I say. And that’s all it takes. She looks up from her phone, right into my eyes. She smiles. She doesn’t cover it this time. She says, “Hey.” She looks at me with the same loving look I give her. I smile back. She chuckles, and so do I. We just look at each other for a few seconds and smile. I have a feeling that for the rest of my life, I am going to remember the night I looked across the bar.