17. Chapter 17
Chapter seventeen
A fter driving aimlessly around town for a while, I eventually send a voice memo recap of my conversation with Brooks to the Beefs group chat. Lana and Amaya send back their supportive but non-directive thoughts, refusing to solve the “what should I do?” dilemma for me.
My sleep is restless, so I get up early and hop in my car, deciding to break out of town for a day. I send a text to Amaya asking if we can hang out in KC and start driving that direction before she even responds. She’s probably sleeping in on this Saturday morning, but my flight instinct can’t wait for her to wake up.
I have my “Forget Everything and Dance” playlist pumping while I drive, helping me escape the thousands of thoughts piling up in my mind. An hour into the trip, I get a text back from Amaya.
AMAYA
Girl, you’re crazy. But yes, let’s hang. Meet me in Westport and we’ll find somewhere to go
A couple of hours later, I hug Amaya like I haven’t seen her in a year. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Beef!” I tell her, and she only laughs in response. She pulls back from me and raises her eyebrows in silent communication.
“I need distraction. No serious talk,” I state, and Amaya nods.
We spend the day jaunting around Kansas City, eating lunch, shopping, exploring a park, picking up dinner, and talking about anything other than Brooks. Aside from appreciating the distraction from my thoughts, I love seeing Amaya in her new element here. Not sure how I managed to snag such a powerhouse of a businesswoman as my best friend, but I’ll proudly ride on her coattails forever.
I spend the night at Amaya’s apartment. I can’t risk in-person conversation with my mom just yet, knowing she’ll sense my dodginess and pull the Brooks angst out of me.
Right when I’ve gotten comfy on the couch, a text dings on my phone. I can’t handle the suspense of what I might be missing out on, so I check it.
brOOKS
Gina told me you weren’t home this morning, so your kind but confused roommate got to enjoy your cinnamon dolce latte. Please enjoy this video instead. #fullcourtpress
A video comes through a second later. It’s Brooks dancing and lip-syncing to NSYNC’s “I Want You Back,” hitting every move flawlessly.
I giggle softly, and watch the video on loop. It’s everything my viral dance-loving heart can’t resist. But maybe he’s everything I should be resisting.
brOOKS
And now you know how I spent my Saturday. Hope you’ve had a good day
clapping emoji
I don’t say anything else, and Brooks doesn’t respond further. Switching my phone to silent, I close my eyes to resist rewatching the video.
Brooks is fully committed to his “full-court press” approach. The Monday morning after my impromptu trip to KC, there’s a bakery bag with fresh double-chocolate muffins waiting on the porch. The attached card reads :
I asked them for the sweetest muffins they had for the sweetest girl I know. Please read that with the cheesiest tone of voice you can imagine.
- Brooks
#fullcourtpress
I sigh, the breath full of delight or exasperation. Unclear which. Or maybe both. Because every emotion under the sun seems to be constantly bickering inside my head lately. Driving to our staff meeting, I don’t bother resisting the muffins. Sugar is certainly one of the ways to my heart.
Tuesday arrives, and I’d promised Sofia that I would visit her at The Hangout this week. I want to support her and see what it’s all about, but knowing Brooks will likely be there has me hesitating in the parking lot.
“You can fake it, Teegan,” I tell my reflection in the rearview mirror. “Walk in there, support your friend, and pretend Brooks doesn’t affect you. Easy peasy.”
I confidently walk into the community center with my head held high. After checking in at the front and getting a visitor badge, I look around for Sofia. She waves me over to where she’s standing and introduces me to a group of four girls. We’re chatting animatedly when I spot Brooks across the room.
We make eye contact, and the joy in his eyes flips into bright mode. There’s no other way to describe his actions than to say he positively bounds over to me, beaming.
He chills out by the time he reaches us, but not before Sofia saw his initial reaction. Her eyes glimmer with mischief as Brooks approaches our group. “Teegan, welcome to The Hangout!” Brooks says.
The group of teenage boys that was standing with him trails behind, merging into one large mob of middle school hormones and body odor. There are several whispered speculations about who I am, and I stifle a laugh at the unsuccessful attempts to be inconspicuous.
“Teegan is my Bible study leader at Townsend, and she came to see everything that we do here at The Hangout,” Sofia claims with authority. “I’m always telling her about what a cool program it is, and how it’s been even better since Mr. Murphy came this year.” She adds that last bit with a not-at-all-subtle tone of voice and facial expression as she glares meaningfully at the students gathered around.
“Oh, yeah, Mr. Murphy is the GOAT,” one of the boys announces, catching Sofia’s drift. “He cares about us, no cap.”
“Bet. He’s always bussin in the classroom. It’s the first year I’ve been interested in social studies,” another student chimes in.
“We’re all Mr. Murphy stans,” one of the girls gushes.
Stifling my laughter is growing harder and harder as the students lay it on thick with their absurd Gen Alpha slang. Brooks, for his part, rolls his eyes with a smirk. “Besties, you’re delulu. Stop acting so sus.”
I burst into laughter, unable to keep it contained any longer. Brooks grins at me but rallies the guys to head to the rec area for their basketball tournament. I follow Sofia and the girls she’s tutoring to their table, stopping to grab pizza on the way.
Sofia abandons their ELL workbook for the evening, choosing instead to make tonight a conversational lesson. I ask the girls lots of questions, giving them space to mentally translate their answers into English. Sofia is able to fill in the blanks for me when they revert to Spanish to give their full thoughts.
By the end of the night, my emotional tank is filled to the brim. These middle schoolers have so much energy and enthusiasm, a different variety than what I see with college students. Sofia thanks me for coming, adding a sly, “Feel free to come back to visit me—or Mr. Murphy—any time.”
Back at my car, I’m choosing a playlist for the ride home when there’s a tap at my window. My heart rate spikes when I see that it’s Brooks. I roll down the window.
He leans an arm on the car door. “It was nice to see you here, Teegan. I know that meant a lot to Sofia. She talks about you all the time. And not just in an ornery, trying-to-make-me-like-you way. Not that I need any assistance on that front,” he says, his smile contagious.
“You genuinely mean a lot to her,” he adds. His smile takes on a wry twist. “That doesn’t mean they’re not all in there conspiring to get you to like me.”
I laugh. “I’m glad I could come and see The Hangout for myself. For as much as Lana used to talk about it, I never visited when I was in college. This really is a unique program. I hope you’re able to start something like this in KCMO someday.”
Brooks nods, then taps my car door like he’s about to stand up and leave. “And Brooks?” I add, stopping him. “It was fun to see you here too. Witness your middle school teacher rizz firsthand.”
He laughs, but I can see a blush on his cheeks, even in the dark. “I’ll take whatever rizz points I can get,” he says, face turning serious as his eyes hold mine.
“Goodnight, Brooks.”
“Night, Snea—” Brooks visibly catches himself mid-word. “Teegan. I’m sorry, it just slipped.”
I realize the sting—the panic—that felt so all-consuming the first time he used my old nickname has completely dissipated. It feels . . . almost comforting again. “It’s okay. You can say it now. It . . . it doesn’t bother me so much.”
The look of gratification that spreads across his face makes me feel fuzzy and fulfilled inside, like I’ve curled up on the couch in a sherpa blanket after a Christmas feast. His smile is tender as he whispers, “See you soon, Sneaks.”
Two days later, I receive a midday text from Brooks. It must be his lunch break or planning period. Or he’s texting during class just like high school Brooks.
brOOKS
I thought about surprising you but decided against it. I’m coming to your Arrow meeting tonight because I want to experience what you do on campus for myself. But I didn’t want you to feel awkward trying to explain who I am to anyone, so I recruited other people from small group to come too. You can blanket introduce us as your church friends
I try but fail to fight off a smile. His thoughtfulness has the temperature of my heart increasing by several degrees. Not only does he want to come see my world, but he also considered how his presence there might affect me. He’s taking that extra step to make sure I feel comfortable, and that’s just plain hot.
Sounds amazing. Excited to see you all there
After spending an extra twenty minutes choosing an outfit and curling my hair, I head to the student union early. The welcome team girls haven’t arrived yet, so I pace the lobby.
This is great, Teegan! It’s so kind of your friends to want to see such a big part of your life. Things won’t be awkward at all. It’s all fun and games, end of story.
Thankfully, girls start to arrive and distract me from my solitary, frenetic thoughts. We discuss the campus-wide disappointment about the men’s soccer team not making the playoffs this year (a fact that devastated Mateo, I’m sure). I’m fully engrossed in conversation with a large circle of girls when I feel a tap on my shoulder.
I spin on my heel to see Joy smiling widely, surrounded by Caleb, Natalie, Catherine, and Will.
And Brooks. An entirely too handsome, too familiar, too comforting Brooks.
“Hi, guys! Welcome to Arrow!” I say, stuffing down any conflicted feelings about the increasing pull I feel toward that man. “It’s so amazing of you all to come!”
“I’ve been curious to see what this is all about,” Catherine says. “I’m still trying to get a handle on what exactly it is that you do for your job.”
I laugh heartily along with everyone else. “I confess it’s a tough job description to sum up.” I guide them into the meeting room and choose a row of seats close to the back. The band leads the group through the worship songs, and Kent shares a message about living a life filled with purpose. Nothing about this format is all that different from our regular Sunday church service, but I still find myself unduly anxious about their impression of the meeting.
“So, what did you think?” I ask after the band finishes the final song of the night.
“This was awesome! I’m so glad we came!” Natalie says.
Will chimes in next. “Yeah, I totally wish I had been involved with a group like this when I was in college. What a great community.”
I’m listening and smiling, but my eyes keep darting to Brooks, trying to gauge his reaction. Despite my attempts to be subtle with my glances, his growing smirk assures me that he’s fully aware of my attention.
“Hundreds of college students sitting in a room to grow in their faith together? What’s not to love about that?” he finally says. “This is like my college FCA experience on steroids. Lots of steroids.”
Everyone laughs and throws in additional comments of agreement.
“So, you have to go hang out even later than this?” Catherine asks after stifling a yawn. “The After Party deal?”
“Yep!” I nod. “Every week we do something fun after the meeting to give students the chance to continue hanging out and build more connections. Tonight, we’re going to the specialty donut shop in Center Square.”
“I’m afraid we’re going to have to bow out of further festivities,” Joy says, also yawning. “Us old folks need to hit the hay.”
One by one, other members agree with Joy’s logic. I can see the turmoil in Brooks’ eyes, wanting to come and continue hanging out but not wanting to put me in an awkward position.
“Yep, the alarm bell rings early for teachers,” he finally says jovially. “Thanks for letting us come crash your party.”
“You’re all welcome any time.” I motion my hand toward the whole group as I say it, but my eyes are locked on Brooks.