Chapter Thirteen

                                    

                                          

"I have to do something drastic," I told Ali as we lay by her pool.  I pulled my wide-brimmed hat further down on my forehead to ensure my face was fully covered and squirted some more fifty-strength sunblock onto my palm.  Ali, on the other hand, was glistening from the baby oil she had coated herself in.  She and I were of two very different philosophies when it came to the sun.
"What do you mean by drastic?" she asked. Flipping  onto her stomach, she propped her chin on her arm.  I couldn't see her eyes behind her tinted sunglasses.
"I don't know," I groaned, rubbing the white sticky mess into my skin.  "But I have to do something to make Gregg realize exactly how I feel about him.  Otherwise, it's useless."
Ali dipped her hand into the pool's cool water and splashed some onto her shiny face.  "I thought things were going great.  The two of you have been hanging out lately, getting coffee, talking on the phone.  Isn't that what you wanted?"  
"Sure," I said.  "For the most part, at least.  We're spending time together, and that's great, but he treats me like I'm his buddy, or worse, his sister.  Do you honestly think it's normal he hasn't tried to kiss me yet?" 
My friend shrugged her small shoulders.  "He told you things were complicated," she reminded me, as always, the voice of reason.
I sighed and leaned back against the lawn chair.  "He's going back to school in two days and I can't let him leave without knowing how I really feel."
Ali's eyebrows shot up and disappeared behind her bangs.  "Are you going to tell him you love him?" she asked, sounding shocked.  
"I don't know," I said, staring at the cloudless sky.  "I don't relish the idea of telling him.  There has to be another way."  I contemplated the situation in silence while Ali lapped at the water.  
"Why don't you show him your journal?" she suggested. 
 I looked at her.  Hhmm, I wondered.
"Do you think?" I asked.
She shrugged again.  "He's really into your writing and he loved the letter you wrote him.  This way, you could tell him how you feel without actually having to tell him."
I thought about Ali's suggestion.  It would be a big risk, but then again everything concerning Gregg and I was a big risk for me.   I was so much more eloquent when I wrote my thoughts down on paper.  The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea.  Nothing ventured, nothing gained, I told myself.
"Hello?" Gregg answered when he picked up his phone.  
"Hi," I said in a determined voice.  Now that I'd made my mind up about what I was going to do, there was no room for uncertainty.  "What are you doing tonight?" I asked boldly.  There was no hesitation in my voice - I was proud of my resolve.  
"Ah, I don't think I'm doing anything," Gregg said.  I heard him yell something to his mother and she answered him in Greek.  "My family is having a big dinner for me, kind of like a going away party, but if you want to get together this afternoon, that would be cool."
"All right," I said.  "I'll meet you at the park."
"The park?" he questioned.  "Is this some sort of secret rendezvous?  A clandestine meeting?" 
I chuckled, feeling the heat rise to my face.  "Just be there in an hour, okay.  I'll bring ice coffees.  Bye."  I hung up the phone before he could reply and looked at myself in the mirror.  "Are you ready for this?" I asked out loud.  "Well, you'd better be."
I arrived early and settled down on the grass with the coffees and my journal.  Sitting cross-legged, I thumbed through the pages and scanned paragraph after paragraph of my own handwriting.  This was some pretty deep stuff:  my feelings, my desires, and my dreams.  It was even more revealing than the letter I'd written to him.  If I let Gregg read this there would be no more pretending; he would have to be dense not to figure out my true feelings for him.  I took a deep breath to fortify myself.  There was no backing out as far as I was concerned.  Gregg was leaving the next day and I wanted him to know that he wasn't just my friend.  
"Hey, stranger," he said, plopping down next to me on the grass.  I'd been so immersed in my journal I hadn't heard him coming.  I jumped and slammed the cover shut.
"Hi," I said.  I stared at him for a moment, once again caught off-guard by his physical beauty.  I swallowed and glanced away.  If I looked at him too long, I would lose track of time and forget what I wanted to get done.
"What's that?" he questioned, nodding to my journal.  It was still clutched within my hands.  I relaxed my grip and took a deep breath.
"It's my journal," I told him.  I held it out to him.
"You're letting me read this?" he questioned, a hint of disbelief in his voice.  "Are you sure?  I could barely get you to give me your short stories in the beginning.  Now I get to read your deepest, darkest thoughts?"
"You said you wanted to know me," I replied.  "This is the only way how."  He took the journal from my outstretched hand.
"Thank you," he told me. 
 He opened up to the first page and started to read, reaching out for his coffee with his free hand.  I grew uncomfortable, watching as he pored over my most intimate thoughts, so I lay down on the grass and stared up at the clouds.  We stayed like that for over an hour, him reading in silence, and me watching the sky.  When he finished, he closed the cover softly.  He didn't say anything at first, and I couldn't bring myself to look at him.  I felt exposed, naked.
Gregg finally broke the silence.  "You're going to be famous someday, do you know that?" he asked me.  I looked at him in surprise.  That was not the response I'd expected, though I was not displeased.
"Why do you say that?" I asked.
He made a gesture to my journal.  "The way you express yourself, your thoughts and feelings, it touches a person.  I read your words and I feel that you are looking inside me, that you have found a way of saying something that I never could.  It's beautiful, really."
I blushed under his praise.  Still, he hadn't said anything about the subject of my entries.  Not yet, at least.  I remained quiet, and waited.  Gregg stared across the park.  
"The way you talk about me," he began, not meeting my eyes.  "It makes me feel like a jerk."
I sat up quickly.  "I never meant to make you feel that way," I said in a rush.
He looked at me then and smiled.  "I know, I know.  But I don't deserve it.  You are a good person, Jaime – so sweet, so nice."
"You're a good person too," I interrupted.  He cut me off.
"Let me talk," he said.  I fell silent.  He looked me in the eye.  "You're sweet.  I'm not.  You're innocent.  I most definitely am not.  Your naivety makes me want to protect you, and I know I need to protect you from guys like me."  
I looked at him and suddenly I didn't want him to protect me.  I wanted him to treat me like any other girl and kiss me and do whatever came after that.  I think he saw the look in my eyes, because he pushed himself up.  
"Come on," he said, reaching down for me.  I put my hand in his, relished in its firm grip, and allowed him to pull me off the ground.  "Can you drive me home?" he asked.  I nodded, mutely, and he followed me to the car.
We drove in silence, the weight of his words stilling my tongue.  Why did he have to be so damn noble when it came to me?  I didn't relish the idea of having a broken heart, but I also didn't want to run away from life's experiences just because I might get hurt.  I pulled to a stop in front of his house and he opened his door to get out.  I got out too.  At the very least, I was going to hug him goodbye.
Gregg walked slowly around the car and up to me.  I smiled at him but it was a sad smile.  He put his hands around my waist and I hugged him around his neck.  I pressed myself to him, memorizing the way he felt – he couldn't keep me from doing that.  When I backed away to look at him, his expression changed slightly.  
He leaned closer to me.  My heart started to beat so hard I could feel it's frantic pounding in my head and I didn't think my chest would be able to contain it for long.  Then he kissed me and all other thoughts disappeared.  His lips were soft and sweet and barely parted and if I died right then and there, I would have died happy.  It was the sweetest kiss I'd ever had and it ended all too soon.  He pulled away from me.  I tried to catch my breath.
"Someday," he said, before heading inside.  The word sounded like a promise.  
I nodded, my head spinning.  "Someday," I murmured.  Someday.   It was enough, for now.