A Simple Switch

8 - Alright Then

DYLAN

"So... Anyone got any ideas?"

I looked expectantly across the table.

Stoner Brad was staring blankly across the room and Michaela was busy using her phone.

I didn't usually make suggestions in class, or start conversations even, for that matter. Not even in small groups like this. However, watching the time go by without any progress being made on our project was beginning to physically pain me, so I decided to speak up.

"Ahem," I cleared my throat.

"Sorry, what?" Michaela said, putting down her phone.

"Anyone got any ideas for our bill?
...that we need present next week?"

I was met with blank stares and silence.

Fantastic.

I followed Stoner Brad's gaze to a portrait of James Madison.

"He actually wrote a pretty good bill himself, way back when..." I said jokingly, pointing to the poster.

Brad gave me a confused glance.

"You know... the Bill of Rights?"

The uncomfortable silence began making my cheeks feel warm as I struggled to find more words to say.

Note to self: history jokes do NOT work well with Brad...

Michaela chuckled from where she sat.

"Whoaaa, would you look at that!" I said playfully. "Seems like we've got TWO nerds in Group Three!"

Michaela elicited a real laugh this time.

"What, knowing that James Madison helped write the Bill of Rights makes me a nerd?" she retorted. "You should know that that was one of the four facts I managed to remember from U.S. History last year. The second is that he wrote the constitution."

I laughed this time.

"Anyway, 'nerd,' " she said. "What was your bill idea?"

I was about to answer before I stopped myself.

"Do you really want to know?" I asked.

As much as I would have liked to talk about my various solution plans for the ills of the United States government with the prettiest girl I knew, I had done enough group projects to be able to know when I would be the one carrying all the weight. This was definitely one of those situations.

"That's what I thought," I said in response to her silence.

Even though we clearly weren't going to get anything done this class, I wasn't about to pass up a chance on conversation- especially when my juju was already on point.

"So anyway," I spoke quickly. "What are your thoughts on... lettuce?"

Michaela looked up at me, confused. "I don't know what you mean..."

Oh god...

I felt the sweat begin to accumulate on my palms.

Come on Dylan, there's no going back now. You've got to really sell this one.

"I'm just saying... I think romaine is a little overrated," I said, shrugging.

I saw the corners of her lips begin to rise, giving me relief.

"I mean, it's good in sandwiches, and pasta," I continued. "But sometimes, if you just want a little lettuce wrap thing, I think Iceburg is the way to go."

I leaned back in my chair, and looked her in the eyes. "You know?"

She wore a full smile now, and looked back at me.

"I... am a fan of kale," she responded simply.

"No way."
"Yeah."
"Come on."
"I like kale!"
"No one who 'likes kale' actually likes kale."
"You know it's actually really good for you."
"But still, it's like eating crunchy rubber!"
"It's not that bad."
"Ohh I don't know about that."

"Alright then," she said with a grin. "Sometime, we are gonna have to go out for kale."

"Alright then," I said, smiling back at her.

--

"Class!" Ms. Kent bellowed. "School's out in three minutes! You may now pack up your things. Be ready to continue working on this tomorrow!"

I looked back at Michaela. "Who were we on... Kim?" I asked. 

Somehow within the past 30 minutes, our conversation about lettuce had evolved into a debate about which Kardashian sister was least talented.

"Looks like we'll have to settle this tomorrow!" she said with a grin.

"I hear that," I said, while stowing away the last of my books.

"You know what," I spoke again suddenly. "Since we're going to have to finish this project eventually, why don't we all exchange contact info?" I asked, handing her my phone.

"Is this your 'sly' way of getting my number?" she asked, while typing her digits in.

My cheeks heated up and I opened my mouth to deny it before she stopped me.

"I'm kidding, Dylan, calm down," she said with a laugh.

"You know, you're really making me regret calling you an asshole the other day," she commented, as she returned my phone.

"And why's that?" I breathed.

"Trust me, I know my fair share of assholes, and you're not one of them," she stated. "You're actually nice... despite your complete underestimation of Kourtney."

"Hey now, Khloe used to host X-Factor; I think that makes her a little more skilled," I retorted.

We both laughed.

"Whatever you say, Dylan!" she said on her way out the door.

I exhaled deeply. Our conversation had left me with a nervous tingle.

"Well alright then," I breathed, feeling more alive than ever.