How to Date a Nerd

41 - The Ferris Wheel Ride of the Decade

Don't you worry your pretty little mind,

People throw rocks at things that shine

And life makes love look hard                              ---- Taylor Swift, Ours

I remembered standing in the middle of an amusement park. But I didn’t remember how I got there. My mind was too busy to note the little details.

I walked. I didn’t know where I was going but I knew I had to go somewhere. I had to do something. It wasn’t clear to me why.

My watch read half past 4 o’clock. The sun would set in a couple of hours.

What’s taking them so long? They should’ve been here by now.

I didn’t know what my destiny was. Sarah thought I was born to be an artist. I was planning on something else.

The old nerdy glasses fit me like it did three years ago. Everything was blurry. But I felt like I could see clearer just because I could focus on the more important things.

The crowd started to thin out. People headed to the bay view to watch the scheduled fireworks display. As they did, no one threw me second glances as they walked by. It felt good to be normal again. To blend in.

I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets.

There was no assurance that I’d accomplish something. And I had nothing but a crumpled piece of paper and a necklace. And maybe, if I was lucky, a few memories that would help me do what had to be done.

I stood there, staring at the Ferris Wheel, dwelling in memories of that day Sarah asked for a date in an amusement park instead of a date to the Prom. I should have just given her what she wanted. Maybe things had turned out differently.

No. It was no use trying to figure out what could have been.

I pulled out the tiny leather-bound notebook from my pocket and flipped the pages until I found some kind of bucket list. She wrote: Make New Memories!

So far, she’d crossed out many things. Most were just petty. Still, it made me wish I had been there to do them with her.

A smile pulled up my lips when I read Learn how to drive. Safely. She’d always hated it whenever I drove fast. Back then, she was too much of a scaredy-cat to learn how to drive. She’d hyperventilate once she got in front of the steering wheel. Sarah was finally being brave.

When I turned the pages, I found a piece of table napkin neatly folded in between the sheets. I carefully unfolded it and realized it was the goodbye letter I wrote for Sarah during our recent press con. How it got to her was a mystery. I remember leaving it at the venue.

“She was there!” I thought out loud. “She was there all along!”

A few people stared at me, but I was too excited to get embarrassed. My chances to a life in a mental institution just went down a notch.

I was laughing by the time I noticed Chuck and Reed making their way through the crowd. Both of them wore shades and baseball caps. Weird thing was, their clothes were soaked. Behind them was Ricky, getting caught by the tide of the moving crowd while towing someone.

“Hey! W-we’re here!” Ricky yelled out, raising a hand like he used to in class. When people looked at him, he pulled the hood of his jacket over his head and looked down. We couldn’t afford getting too much attention in a place like this.

The blonds were the first to reach me. Both of them had grins on their faces.

“Man, taking people to places without their permission is so fun!” Chuck laughed. “People should do it for a living. I’ll be the first, if ever.”