Page 14 of The Golden Boy's Guide to Bipolar
I beg for some kind of sign, for God to just tell me what to do to make it right. To tell me it’s okay to be with him. There has to be a way to make things work. With trembling prayer hands and faltering confidence, I end up lying in bed staring at the ceiling all night instead of sleeping.
When Jamal picks me up for the movie the next day, I shoot up one more quick prayer before opening the door. All I need is a sign of some kind that this is okay, and I’ll know I can completely ignore what Father John said.
I cross myself and open the door to find Jamal standing on the other side, hands folded behind his back and a smile on his face. He’s never been the type to just text me saying he’s here so I can come out to his truck. Instead, he comes to the door every time, walking me to his truck and opening the passenger door for me.
“Thanks,” I say, unable to keep from smiling as I climb inside. It’s hard not to feel lighter around him, even with Father John’s words weighing me down.
“Question,” Jamal says as he pulls the truck off into the road.
“Yeah?” I say, wondering if he’ll ask again about getting back together so early in the date.
“If you had to choose how the world would end, what kind of apocalypse would you pick?”
I let out a little laugh. There really is no telling what kind of question he’s got in his head at any given moment. “Um, what are my options?”
“Like, alien invasion, zombies, animal uprising, the rapture, nuclear war... it can be anything, really.”
“Definitely not the rapture,” I find myself saying with an involuntary shudder. “Maybe animal uprising? I’ve been pretty nice to animals, I think. Maybe they’ll spare me.”
“Yeah, that’s probably the best one for the sake of the planet, too,” Jamal says thoughtfully. “I’d pick the alien invasion.”
He doesn’t elaborate on his answer, but he doesn’t really needto. Being both a sci-fi and astronomy enthusiast, I’m sure getting abducted by aliens and taken to see space is up there on his wish list.
We pull up to the theater then. It’s a small dollar theater in the middle of the day, so we basically get the entire place to ourselves. I planned to pay for everything, but Jamal sneaks over to the concession stand while I’m getting the tickets, and by the time I have them, he’s balancing a large popcorn and two sodas in his arms.
I try to keep my eyes open for one of those signs from God that I either will or won’t go to hell for even being here with him, but nothing feels out of the ordinary. I take the drinks from him, so he only has to carry the popcorn, and we take our seats in the very back of the theater.
Most of the movie goes right over my head since I’m overthinking so hard. I have to be hypervigilant, so I don’t miss whatever signal I’m supposed to get.
Jamal rests a hand on the armrest in between our seats, and without thinking, I find my hand instinctively going to meet his. He turns his head, looking surprised but happy as he turns his palm upward to take my hand.
My stomach does a somersault, and I’m not sure if it’s because I missed the warmth of his hands, or because I acted without getting my sign first.
It’s just hand-holding, though. I haven’t asked him to be my boyfriend or anything, so technically I’m still in the clear, I think.
Part of me wonders if thefeelingof his hand in mine is a signal in its own right. I can’t deny the safety of it. How this simple touch relaxes my shoulders and tugs at the corners of my lips. That can be a sign, right?
As soon as I think it, the screen lights up with a fiery explosion,the sudden booming in my ears making me pull my hand away in a flinch.
Isthata sign?
My head pounds the rest of the movie trying to make sense of it. I do my best to weigh the two conflicting signals against each other, but by the time the credits roll, I’m no closer to an answer. At least, not one I can be confident I’m not misunderstanding.
I try my best to listen to Jamal raving about the movie on the way home, but I have a hard time concentrating on his words, especially since I barely absorbed any of that movie. I was supposed to ask him to be my boyfriend today in person, but the longer I go without some kind of hint that it’s all gonna be okay, the harder it is to get any words out of my mouth.
I haven’t said anything by the time we pull up to my house, and I don’t know if I can.
“Thanks for today,” Jamal says, turning toward me with a genuine smile. At least he doesn’t seem to be freaking out as much as I am. “I had a good time.”
“Me too,” I admit. I always have a good time with him, no matter how much my own brain tries to sabotage it. I find myself subconsciously leaning the tiniest bit forward. I have to admit, I don’t want today to end.
He leans in too, and I glance down at his lips, wondering if the skip in my heart is enough of a hint.
Before either of us gets too close, Jamal’s phone goes off. He pulls it out of his pocket and frowns at the screen. “Sorry, I should really answer.”
“It’s okay, I have to go anyway,” I say a bit too quickly, opening the door and hopping out of the truck in one movement. “Bye!”
I shut the door, and he waves behind the window as he answers his phone. Like always, he doesn’t drive away until after I get the door open. The sun is still up, but he’s always making sure I get in safely before driving off.
