We Could Be Dreamers

2

"If you ask me, the solution is obvious," says my friend Sam. My real friend Sam—she's not a hockey asshole like Tyler. She laces her hands on the tabletop, leaning forwards. "Ditch Tyler because he's a dick. And then ask out Brooke before I do," she grins, a twinkle in her eye. 

I roll my eyes at her, suppressing a smile. "She's straight," I say. "And I can't just ditch Tyler."

"One, you don't know she's straight. You've barely talked to her. And two, you can totally ditch Tyler. It's easy." 

"Exactly!" I take a sip of my coffee, choosing to ignore her comments about Tyler for now. He's no fun to talk about anyways. "I've barely talked to her. So how am I supposed to ask her out?"

Sam shrugs, toying with the metal straw in her mostly-finished iced coffee. "I dunno. I've never had to make the first move," she says with a smile. 

I huff. "Thanks for your advice."

"Yeah, no problem," she replies. 

Sam's not even exaggerating or anything. She's the kind of person who catches your attention—gleaming green eyes, tousled bubblegum blue hair, rhinestones in her glasses. And it's not even just that she's beautiful. 

Although she is beautiful. 

She's also wicked smart, and I don't think I've ever met anyone who can make me laugh like she can. 

I bite my lip, realizing I've been watching her pore over her Biology notes. "So. Uh. How are you doing?" I ask. 

She shrugs. "I'm doing okay." She twirls the straw between her fingers, sending little droplets of iced coffee over her notes, but she doesn't seem to care. "School's kind of killing me, though." 

"Right. How're all those fancy science courses of yours going?" 

Sam glances at me, eyes wide. "Oh, so unbelievingly bad," she replies. "I hate it so much."

I wince. "Bad mark?"

"What? No. I'm a genius. I don't get bad marks. But Jesus fuck, Adam, I'm so tired." She lets out a weak laugh, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Pro tip—never let your parents know you're smart when you're younger, or they'll expect you to be smart for the rest of your life." 

"Sage wisdom," I say, nodding deeply. "Do you have any classes with Brooke?"

"Oh my god." She sets her pencil down and looks at me. "You're obsessed. You need, like, a hobby or something."

"I'm not obsessed!" I protest indignantly. "I'm nowhere near as bad as you were with Tasha." 

"Ah, but that was a gay awakening," she says. "That's different. I didn't realize I was into her. And anyways, there's nothing obsessive about going the long route to Pre-Calc so that I can meet up with her in the hallway for thirty seconds before class! I just really liked talking to her."

I sigh, but can't think of anything to say back. I don't really have any experience with gay awakenings. 

"I have Chemistry with her," Sam says after a moment. "And she's in my History class. She seems nice, I guess." 

"She is nice," I say. I dunno how people keep missing the general... Brooke-ness of her. "Have you guys talked at all? Do you think you could maybe talk to her for me..."

Sam snorts. "What, you want me to be your wingman? I'll do what I can, but it's kinda hard to bring you inter conversation when we're talking about the civil war or the lithosphere or whatever." She pauses for a moment. "Isn't she in your Math class? And your English class? Can't you just talk to her yourself?" 

"Yeah, but..." But Tyler's in those classes and he'll tease me endlessly if I try to talk to her. But believe it or not, it's really fucking hard to talk to someone you're in love with. But if I don't talk to her, I can't mess it up. "I dunno." 

Sam frowns, checking her phone. "Shit. We gotta go back to the school." She stands up, eraser curls littering the front of her black-and-white striped dress. 

I reach forward and grab her wrist. "Hey," I say with a small smile. "Sorry I've been so annoying to talk to lately with Brooke and everything." 

She shrugs. "Ah, you've been annoying to talk to long before this," she grins. "And Brooke and everything is hardly new." She gently tugs her wrist out of my grasp and starts to put her notes into her backpack. "Besides, you've got a crush on a cute, nice girl. Believe me. I get it." 

"Thanks, Sam," I say, relieved. I'm lucky to have someone like her in my life. 

"No problem. I'm amazing. Now c'mon. Let's go to class." 

She grabs my arm and tugs me out of the coffee shop.