Chapter 10
10
Brennon
I stare at the corner of my screen, waiting for her little icon to turn green. It’s been over an hour and there’s still nothing.
“Hey, Bren!” My mom knocks on my open door. “I was just looking at some apartment complexes and was wondering if you’ve made any progress with finding a roommate?” Roommate? I’ve been too preoccupied with Willow to even think about it. “If you haven’t had any luck yet, I found a couple that offer roommate matching. You can choose a double, triple, or quad, depending on how many guys you want to live with.”
I’m really not in the mood to think about this right now.
“Sure, Mom. Just text me the links and I’ll have a look.”
“What’s wrong, Bren?” Her voice is closer, and I hear the creak of my bed. I finally lift my eyes from Willow’s little red icon and turn to face her.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just got stuff on the brain. No, I haven’t met anyone yet. If you want to send me the information, I can take a look.”
Her eyes narrow right in. “I know when my boy’s upset. Now, tell me, what’s going on?”
Why do mothers have to be so nosy? Although, honestly, I could use a female’s opinion because listening to my buddy’s advice may have lost me my girl.
“I met this girl. And I really like her, Mom. A lot.” Her face lights up, but she hasn’t heard the rest of it yet. “But I don’t think she likes me back.”
“What makes you say that? You’re so handsome and kind. Everyone likes my little Bren.” And she’s biased because she’s my mom.
“I went to go surprise her at her school today, and she got all nervous and took off.”
“Well, you probably caught her off guard. Us girls need a little warning when we’re going to see the boy that we like. We want to make sure we’re at our best.”
But Willow couldn’t have looked more beautiful. No makeup. That red hair pulled up into a high ponytail. Dressed in jeans and an oversized football sweatshirt. My dick got hard the instant I saw her.
“I guess you’re right. But I don’t know what to do now. I sent her a message, but she hasn’t responded.”
“Now, you send her flowers and tell her you’re sorry. Every girl loves flowers.”
Yeah, but how do I even do that when I don’t know where she lives?
“I don’t have her address, Mom.”
“It’s called the internet, Bren. Just look up her last name in the property tax records, and it should come up. If you know what school she goes to, it should be fairly easy to confirm.”
She does have a point. But what am I supposed to say in the note? I’m sorry I wanted to meet you. I’m sorry I scared you . I hope you weren’t worried about the way you looked because you’re gorgeous. None of that feels like it will win me my girl.
“I don’t know what to write with the flowers.”
“Roses are red. Violets are blue. Please give me a chance because I think I love you.”
She giggles at her teasing remark, but I’m not laughing. This isn’t a joke to me. My heart feels like it’s been punched.
“Just tell her how you feel about her, Bren. Sometimes, girls just need to feel secure in how a guy truly feels before they’ll let down their guard.” That’s exactly what I was trying to do today. Tell Willow how I feel, but she wouldn’t even turn around and look at me as I was confessing my feelings. “And if she doesn’t give you a chance after that, then she’s not interested. And that’s okay, Bren. There are plenty of girls out there who would love a chance to date my boy.”
Yeah, but there’s only one girl for me.
“Thanks, Mom. Do you think roses are good?”
“Yes, I think roses are perfect.”
She stands from my bed and comes and kisses me on the top of my head before she turns and leaves. My attention goes right back to the corner of my computer screen and my heart sinks lower when I see that she still hasn’t logged on.
I open another page and start my search for Willow’s address. Sure enough, I find it right away. She told me she lived in her same house her entire life, and from this that seems to check out. I write it down on a scrap of paper, debating if I should drive over there right now and apologize in person. But she’s liable to slam the door in my face.
Flowers will be better. The gesture will hopefully get her to log on. Maybe that’s what my message will say with the flowers: Please forgive me and play online with me again.
I check the game one more time to see if she’s there, and my nerves leap into my throat when I see her avatar glowing green now. There’s a message waiting for me in my inbox.
Will2025TE: I’m sorry I ran today. I was just so embarrassed. And nervous.
That’s what my mom said. Maybe moms do know best. But I don’t understand what Willow could be so embarrassed over. She looked hot.
Me: I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to catch you off guard. I just really wanted to meet you. I’ve never felt this kind of connection with anyone, but I’m starting to think you don’t feel the same. I guess I should’ve taken the hint all the times you tried to shoot me down.
Will2025TE: It’s not that I’m not interested, Brennon. There’s something I never told you about myself. I struggle with my speech, which I’m sure you noticed this afternoon. When I get really nervous, my stutter gets so much worse. So, it’s not that I didn’t want to talk to you. I just physically couldn’t.
She struggles with her speech? That’s why she ran? Here I am thinking it’s because she doesn’t like me or lied about not having a boyfriend. I’d worked up a whole bunch of different shit in my head, but never did I think it was because of the way she stuttered.
Me: So the stutter wasn’t because you were afraid of me?
I was worried she thought I was some internet creeper coming to hurt her from the look on her face.
Will2025TE: Yes and no.
Yes and no?
Will2025TE: I wasn’t afraid of you. I was just afraid of what you’d think of me once I spoke. I’m used to guys calling me the Sputtering Carburetor, and I was worried you wouldn’t want to be friends anymore.
So that’s why they call her that? Those fucking bastards. My jaw tightens as I think of them saying that to my girl. No wonder she’s afraid to talk to guys. She thinks we’re all assholes.
Me: I don’t want to be friends.
I want to be so much more than friends. I’m in love with this girl. But I don’t want to say this over the computer. I want to tell her in person. I want to look into her beautiful eyes and tell her that this friendship we’ve built has grown into something so much more for me. Way beyond a crush. Deeper than a first love. It feels like we were meant to be, and I don’t want to write that on a note and have it sent with flowers. I want to deliver those flowers myself and tell her that she never needs to be embarrassed or nervous with me. I don’t care if she has a stutter or struggles to get her thoughts out. If anything, it makes me love her more.
I seriously want to beat up all the obnoxious jerks who’ve made her feel bad about herself. I want to grab them by the nuts and make them all apologize for making fun of her.
I rip off the piece of paper with her address and quickly log off my computer. It’s time to go get my girl once and for all.