Chapter Seven: Number 24

Abigail

*

I should have felt uncomfortable, vulnerable, but Ben put me at ease somehow.  I didn’t know how we got to that point, usually the guy lost interest around date three, but Ben stuck around for over a month.

*

When he dropped me off at my apartment that evening, he kissed me, made plans for the next night, and said, “I love your smile.”  He’d gotten into the habit of telling me random things he liked about me at the end of each date: I like that you always smell like vanilla, your laugh is the best sound I hear all day, I love that you are willing to work your way from the bottom, up- that shows courage I’ve never had.

*

With such encouragement, how could I not be falling for him?  I still questioned his sanity sometimes, after all- he seemed to really be into me- but if he was insane, I was ready to follow him straight to the looney bin.  So the next day, I dialed his number, deciding to stop being the girl who couldn’t believe what was happening and start being the girl who showed the guy she liked just how much she liked him.

*

“Hey, what are you doing tonight?” I asked once he answered the phone.

*

“I don’t know.  I don’t have any plans.”

*

Wow, do you realize your voice makes me melt every time? “You do now.  We’re going out.”

*

“We are?”  The surprise in his voice was unmistakable.  My excitement increased.

*

“Yes.  I feel bad that you’re always the one putting in the effort, so tonight I’m doing everything.”

*

“Oh, really?”  Laughter danced in his tone, “Well, don’t I feel special to have a beautiful woman making plans for me.  What’re we doing?”

*

“It’s a surprise.  I’ll pick you up at 9:00.”

*

“You’ll pick me up?  You’re going to drive?  You never want to drive.”

*

“I think that might have to do with the recent traumatic car accident I was in, but yes, I’m driving.  And you aren’t allowed to argue.”

*

Ben chuckled.  “Yes, ma’am.  What’s gotten into you?”

*

“Honestly?  I don’t know.  You, I guess.” You, definitely.

*

“I tend to have that effect on women.”  He spent the next several minutes trying to coax the surprise out of me, but when I refused to budge, he left me with, “I like this stubborn side of you.”

*

Snapping my phone shut, I began tidying up my living room in an attempt to work out some of the nervous energy pulsing through my body.  No guy ever brought on the butterflies like Ben did.

*

Sweeping a stack of magazines and junk mail into my arms, I headed to my bedroom and dumped the pile onto my bed.  A single sheet of notebook paper fluttered to the ground.  Bending over to pick it up, I recognized the words staring up at me and froze.

*

The list.  I hadn’t thought about it at all since my birthday, yet here it was.  I smoothed out the folds and stumbled into the living room, falling onto the couch.   I read each item carefully.

*

“Learn how to ski.  Nope.  Haven’t done that.  Get a tattoo. Nope.  Have a column in a national magazine or newspaper. Most definitely haven’t done that.”  I grew more disgusted with myself at each item.  What had I been doing the past ten years that I hadn’t accomplished anything?

*

So much for the new me.

*  *  *  *

*

“Are you okay?” Ben asked, sipping his beer and glancing around the bar.  I looked around, too.  The bar was full, but it was dreary and noisy.  We had to yell to hear each other, and the “Grade A” sign from the health department hanging behind the bartender looked suspiciously like it had been printed from the internet and not filled out by an inspector.

*

“Yeah, of course.  Why?”

*

“Well, you were so excited this afternoon on the phone, but now, I don’t know, you just don’t seem like you’re having a good time.”

*

“No, I am!  I am, really, I just had kind of a rough afternoon.”

*

“Oh, I’m sorry…” His voice got drowned out by the cackling of a couple of girls hanging onto the bar beside us.  Apparently they were attempting to score free drinks from the bartender even though he’d cut them off twenty minutes ago.

*

“Huh?” I leaned into him and he put his arm around my waist to pull my ear closer to his mouth.

*

“You wanna talk about it?” His breath tickled my neck.

*

“Um, no.  I’m fine.”

*

“Oh.  Okay.”  He released his hold on me and turned towards the stage at the front of the bar.  After a few painful seconds of silence he tilted towards me again and asked, “Hey, what’s going on up there, tonight?”

*

“You’ll see,” I responded.  At that moment, a curly haired man jumped onto the stage and brought a microphone to his lips.

*

“Ladies and gentlemen,” his booming voice broke out over the rumble in the bar, “welcome to Karaoke Night!  We’ve already got some singers signed up, so let’s get the party started with Miss Abigail Bronsen singing ‘Girls Just Want to Have Fun.’  Give it up for Abigail everyone!”

*

“Karaoke?  That’s the plan?” Ben stared at me as if I’d just announced we were sealing a murder-suicide pact.

*

“That’s the plan.  If you’ll excuse me for a few minutes, my fans await!”  I kissed his cheek and shoved through the crowd, taking the mike from the emcee and positioning myself on stage so I could watch Ben’s dumbfounded expression.

*

The music kicked in and I danced around the stage, catcalls and whistles from the audience fueling me into a frenzy as I picked up speed, swung my arms around my head, and sashayed my hips back and forth.  I let the music fill my head, pushing out all thoughts of the list and my incredibly uneventful twenty-five years on earth.

*

“I come home, in the morning light/ My mother says when you gonna live your life right/ Oh mother dear, we’re not the fortunate ones/ And girls just wanna have fun…” My voice rang out loud and clear, drifting to the far corners of the bar.  At the first note Ben’s jaw dropped in surprise, then adjusted into a cheesy grin.

*

“Woohooo!  Go Abigail!” he yelled, holding his phone up and snapping a few pictures.  He continued hooting and waving his phone in the air, the little screen glowing green and illuminating his hand as it swayed to the music.  The rest of the crowd cheered and sang along with me by the final chorus.

*

“Oh oh oh, girls just wanna have fu-unn!”

*

Applause erupted around me as I stepped off the stage and made my way back to Ben.

*

“Wow!  Way to kick things off, Abigail!  Let’s hear it for her one more time,” the emcee shouted into the mike and more cheering and applause broke out.

*

“That was amazing!”  Ben pressed forward and shouted in my ear.

*

I shrugged.  “I was just having a little fun.”

*

“You’re a natural performer.  How come you never told me you could sing?”

*

“Well, everyone can sing.”

*

“I can’t.”

*

“We’ll see about that.”

*

“Huh?” His eyes lost their spark as it dawned on him what I meant, “Abigail, you were great, really, but I’m terrible.  You don’t want to hear me sing.”

*

“It’s too late now.”  I pointed to the emcee, who brought the mike to his mouth.

*

“Alright ladies and gents, our next victim is Mr. Benjamin Harris, singing ‘I’m Too Sexy.’  Ladies, I guess you’ll have to be the judge of that.  Come on down, Benjamin!”

*

I clapped my hands together enthusiastically and let out a “Woohoo!” while nudging Ben forward.  “You’re up!”  His face became so white, it was almost translucent, his Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped several breaths in, but then he walked determinedly to the stage.

*

“Yeaaahhh Ben!”  I yelled after him.  Several girls right in front of the stage mimicked my calls and Ben’s face blushed deep red as he grabbed the microphone.

*

“You’re going to pay for this, Abigail,” he threatened, waiting for the music to start.  The first verse was TERRIBLE!  He missed half the words and sang so quietly it was hard to hear, but roaring and support from the crowd encouraged him and he laughed his way through the rest of the song, good humouredly dancing off the stage at the end.

*

“Of all the songs in the world, that’s what you picked for me?” he accosted as soon as he broke through the throngs of people congregating around the bar.

*

“I thought it was appropriate.  I didn’t want you to take yourself too seriously.  And, come on, those girls up there did think you were too sexy for your shirt!”

*

Laughing, he asked, “How bad was I?”

*

“Awful!  But adorable.”  He grinned and kissed me, then sat back on his stool to watch the next performer, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against him.  My head rolled back and rested on his shoulder while we enjoyed the rest of the singers.  The list was nowhere on the register of my thoughts at that moment.

*

“So is that all you had up your sleeve?” he asked, opening the car door for me after closing time.

*

“Yeah.  Did you have fun?”

*

“I did.”  He got into the passenger seat and buckled up, looking thoughtfully out the window instead of at me.  Something wasn’t right.

*

“Are you sure?  You’re quieter than normal.”

*

“No, I did.  I had a great time.  I just thought…” he let his voice trail off and ruffled up his hair.

*

“What?”

*

Shifting in his seat, his breathing got heavy, “When you said you wanted to plan everything… well, I thought, nothing, it’s stupid.”

*

“What?  I’m sure it’s not stupid.”

*

“I thought you meant you were planning something, um… uh, something more intimate.”

*

Huh? “Oh?”  Holy crap. “Ohhh.”

*

Oh God, what do I do now?  Shit, of course he’s thinking about sex, he is a guy, Sex is the last thing I want to talk about. “I’m sorry, Ben, I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression,” I stammered, “but I’m not ready to talk about THAT.  We’ve only known each other a little while.  I don’t even know what this is that we’re doing, I…”

*

Shit, just tell him the truth, “I… I…”

*

You can do it.  Just spit it out. “Ben, I’m…”

*

He interrupted, placing his hand on my arm, “Hey, no need to explain.  I shouldn’t have presumed.  We’ll take it slow.  To be honest, I’m not exactly sure what we’re doing either.  But I know I want to spend more time with you.”

*

Thank God. “I want to spend more time with you, too.”

*

*

<– Chapter Six: Knowledge********************Chapter Eight: Define the Relationship