"Blues Girl"

”

It is something that kind of girl waits for. That special instant when this person who that kind of girl daydreams about from that moment this girl sees him first day of history class, when that Boy comes over to her and says…

“Hey, blues girl. You asleep or something?”

‘Blues Girl’ blushes deeply, but with anticipation. ‘Blues Girl’, that Boy calls her! This Boy remembers! This Boy remembers last week when ‘Blues Girl’ brought in her treasured instrument and played her soul out for – hopefully – him to hear.

“Um… hey?”

That’s all? How anticlimactic! Blues Girl kicks herself in total frustration. All her daydreams leading up to this very moment – and Blues Girl already manages to sound stupid! Blues Girl wants over anything to bring that back -- to say something better than ‘Um… hey.’ But Boy smiles! Blues Girl stifles a sigh. His grin is so pretty.

“Oh, good. I was beginning to think you might try blowing it off. Listen… did you keep notes last Friday?”

Last Friday. Not a happy day, last Friday. After blowing a math test, all Blues Girl had to look forward to was history; to watch her secret crush and drift away in imaginings of how wonderful a kiss from him would feel. But Boy was sick last Friday. That Boy was ill, so Blues Girl could think of nothing but missing him, and agonizing over that terrifying test. This is her second try, though – another shot not to blow it, to say words to plant seeds of feeling for her in this Boy. What to say… um…

“Um… yeah.”

No!! No no no… how silly! Why do her words never work right? When Blues Girl has her sax steady in her hands, words fall into shadow, and smooth, silky notes transform her feelings into communication. Portraying beauty is suddenly not so hard with brass beneath her fingers… but Blues Girl has no brass to resurrect this conversation. Blues Girl wishes to just finish talking without further humiliation. Her disappointment pains her only a bit less than his grin – which now to her feels as if the Boy is laughing at her.

“Well… may I borrow them?”

Absolutely! The word nearly bursts from her throat, but Blues Girl knows how the Boy would hear her desperation. That would only deepen her blush, add to her frustration. Blues Girls opens her bag, removes her folder and hands this Boy – their hands touch! – last Friday’s notes. This Boy takes them and stares at them for a long spell. Finally, Boy sighs pitifully – how this tugs at Blues Girl’s heart! – and looks back at her with worry in his gorgeous cerulean orbs.

“Don’t hear this a wrong way, Blues Girl, and I understand if you say no, but I think your intellect is greater than anything I possess… and this class is getting kinda hard. Can I, um… meet you after school? Would you lend out your brain for an hour or two?”

Blues Girl blinks, fighting to not pinch herself. This is better than any daydream – no amount of imagination could bring her to this. A hint of doubt creeps in – this Boy might really only want help with classes, not walks on beaches or candlelit picnics – things her mind wanted.

No. Doubt would not hold her back. Not today. Blues Girl had not had bravery to start this conversation so long ago, but Blues Girl could find bravery to finish it. With all the strength Blues Girl can muster, Blues Girl gives her answer:

“Um... Yeah. I’ll go in a library nearby. You know it?” Boy looks relieved.

“Absolutely! – I mean, yeah, I know it. After school?” Blues Girl nods assent, suppressing a happy squeal.

Her mind had many things to dream about now… but if new dreams never happen in a way her old ones had – Blues Girl could still go back to her instrument now with a beautifully different song to play.