Not My Type

Chapter 6: Getting to Know You...

We left the weight room and sat in the bleachers of the football stadium. The sun was beating down on us. It was uncharacteristically hot for October, even in southern California.

"Nice to meet you." Jason jokingly held out his hand and smiled. It really was the sunlight that made him glow. His blue eyes were sparkling.

"Hey," I said, taking his hand and smiling skeptically. "Okay, let's get started. Full name, birth date, and shoe size?"

"Jason Alexander Roberts, February 11th, 1995, size 12."

"I was joking."

"You're not funny."

Eye roll from me, a laugh from Jason. Somehow, his smile made his insults sting less. I guess that's what they mean by having charisma.

"Anyway," I continued, "when did you first start playing football?"

"Four years old, haven't stopped since." He paused. "Haven't really had a choice, though."

"Okay, why did you start playing football?"

"My parents signed me up for it, and I was good at it." He stared blankly at me.

"No personal reasons?"

"Not really."

This was getting awkward. More awkward than before, at least. "Uh, well, what's your favorite thing about it?"

"I like the teamwork involved, and the way it can bring an entire school together. I also like that it's a mental and physical sport. You really need to be on your toes."

"Good!" I said. Finally, an adequate answer. "What else are you involved in on campus?"

"Not much...I take AP classes. I went to one Key Club meeting."

Well, this question wasn't opening any new doors. "Anything outside of school?"

"My church's community service organization."

"Oh, cool. What do you guys do in that?"

"Volunteer at summer camps and church events. That's actually how I met my girlfriend."

"Oh, well, do you like it?"

"I guess. I got a girlfriend out of it."

I ignored the girlfriend comment. "Last question." I was surprised at how little Jason had to say, about anything. So many people talked about him, but he had nothing to say about himself.

I smiled as I read it from my paper. "What are your future plans?"

Jason laughed. "Are you being serious?"

I smiled. "Just tell me what you're focused on now."

"I want to go to a good college and possibly go pro afterwards. If everything works out." Suddenly, Jason reached out and grabbed my notebook while I was in the middle of scribbling down his answer. "My turn!"

"But I didn't finish!"

"I'm not that interesting. This is me giving you permission to fabricate my life story." Jason flipped the page and held the pen, poised in writing position. Then, in a mockingly high-pitched voice, he said, "Full name, birth date, shoe size?"

"No."

"Do it or this notebook goes in the trash." Jason pulled the nearest trash can to him and dangled the notebook above it.

"Seriously?" Jason didn't move his hand. "Fine. Anjali Sharma, July 23rd, 1995, size 7."

"I'm just going to call you Angie from now on," he said, and he even wrote it down.

"No!"

"So, Angie, why do you want to be a doctor?"

"Really? You're gonna go there?"

"Decline to answer. That's fine. What are you involved in on campus?"

"Debate, yearbook, Key Club, recycling, AP classes--"

"Anything that doesn't have to do with getting into college?"

"Hey, that's not true! I like the things I'm in."

"You shouldn't lie to yourself."

"Is this really happening right now?"

"Yes. Age when you were first kissed?"

What the hell? How do I even avoid this question? I'd never been kissed. I thought it was pretty obvious right now. I didn't appreciate Jason trying to humiliate me. Or giving me a white nickname.

Just then, as if the universe decided that I'd had enough embarrassment for the day, I heard someone shouting my name. "Anjali! Anj!"

I turned to see Tom, hiking up the bleachers, sweating heavily and doubled over. "Shit!" he cried, panting. "I need to exercise!"

"What---why are you here?" I yelled down at him.

"Someone needs help designing and I can't figure it out. You know the cutting tool? I never learned how to use it as well as you did," he yelled back, still struggling to catch his breath.

"Okay, I'm coming!" I turned back to Jason and snatched the notebook and pen out of his hand. "Thank you for your time, I will be emailing you a copy of your article in about a week. Goodbye." I started to walk down the bleachers.

"Bye Angie!" I turned to see him happily waving and grinning at the same time. "This isn't over!"

I kind of hoped it wasn't.