Connie and Guy continued to walk together, side by side, in the night.
They walked in silence, not even realizing that their hands were still
clasped—it felt like old times, almost.
Connie turned to look at Guy, a mischievous look on her face. "So, Guy, what exactly is it about Francesca Nielson that you like so much? You know, other than the dazzling intellect and sincere concern about worldwide issues."
"Well, she does know A LOT about how to tell a fake Louis Vuitton bag from a real one, which I suppose is one of the most pressing world issues out there. By the way, it's all in the seams—that's how you tell the difference apparently. Also, you have to look out for the number codes—real Louis Vuitton bags have them but fake ones don't," Guy deadpanned. "But seriously, don't be so hard on her. She's really a nice person."
Connie searched Guy's face. "What else do you like about her?"
Guy squirmed a little—Connie's line of questioning was making him a little nervous. "Well, Francesca lets me drive her car sometimes, her dad owns St. Paul Honda and her mom makes a mean Key Lime pie."
Connie frowned, "Guy, be serious. I want to know."
Guy thought about it. "I guess I like Francesca because she laughs at my jokes and always makes me feel like my opinions matter." Guy could not be any more serious than he was at that moment.
"So, basically, she's not like me?" Connie was unsuccessful at hiding the hurt look on her face.
"No, Connie, that's not how I meant it at all." Guy almost slapped himself on the forehead.
"Guy, you don't have to apologize. I just had no idea that I made you feel that way." Connie stared down into the concrete and kicked at a pebble.
Guy turned the tables. "What about you, Connie? What is it about Zach Graft that makes your heart flutter?"
In her most serious tone, Connie answered, "Well obviously, he's popular, he can smash empty soda cans on his forehead with ease, and," Connie raised her pointer finger as if making the most important point of all, "he's in a band."
It was Guy's turn to frown. "Come on, Connie, be real."
Connie bit her lower lip, a habit of hers that Guy found totally sexy. "I guess I like Zach because he thinks that I'm feminine and sexy and attractive...He makes me feel like a girl."
"And I thought that I had been dating a guy this whole time?" Guy wasn't quite sure whether he was joking or if he was seriously indignant about that assertion.
"You know I don't mean it that way." She looked Guy straight in the eye. "I guess that we had been playing hockey for so long together that I became androgynous to you. I was just Connie, the one constant in your life that wasn't going to grow up and change. Well, guess what, Guy? I did and I have. I don't mean to sound like a sex-education video, but I'm becoming a young woman and sometimes I'd like to feel that way."
"Oh, jeez, Connie...You're embarrassing me." Guy wrapped his arm around Connie's shoulder and placed a kiss on her cheek. "You have to know that I'm crazy about you."
Connie looked up at Guy's face and reached up with her fingers to tweak his nose. "And YOU have to know that I always think your jokes are funny—even the one about the pirate in the desert—and your opinions matter to me. You know, that one time when you outlined the reasons why 'Bring It On' should be considered the best movie ever in the history of the world for three hours—I appreciated the amount of thought you put into that."
Guy laughed. "I guess we'd been going out for so long that we took each other for granted. How corny is that?"
The two of them continued to walk, Guy's arm still around Connie's shoulder. "Connie, do you remember when I told you that you weren't the same girl I knew when we first met?"
A dark expression passed through Connie's eyes. "Yes. What about it?"
Guy's tone was enigmatic. "I just wanted to tell you that I meant what I said. You're right and I was right; you aren't the same Connie that I met all those years back. You aren't obsessed with unicorns, don't wear headbands and can't play hopscotch anymore to save your life. For some reason, I woke up one day and realized this fact. What I failed to see, however, was that I had changed, too. It's all a part of growing up, I guess. It's just what people do. And that doesn't mean that our relationship was worse in some way—it was just different." Guy laughed to himself. "Jeez, I guess Banks does know what he's talking about. The point is that I still care about you, Connie. Can you forgive me?"
Connie smiled at him, a beautiful and vibrant smile that made Guy feel warm. "Of course—but on one condition..."
Guy grinned at Connie, and loved the feeling. "And that is?"
"Pull out that silly hat of yours for old times' sake." Guy couldn't tell if she was joking, and hoped to hell that she was.
"You cannot be serious. I think that I'm going to have to rethink all this."
There was another silence, but this time the silence was comfortable. Connie playfully shoved Guy by the arm. "Alright, you win. I just don't think anyone else could handle a resurrection of the hat."
Connie turned to look at Guy, a mischievous look on her face. "So, Guy, what exactly is it about Francesca Nielson that you like so much? You know, other than the dazzling intellect and sincere concern about worldwide issues."
"Well, she does know A LOT about how to tell a fake Louis Vuitton bag from a real one, which I suppose is one of the most pressing world issues out there. By the way, it's all in the seams—that's how you tell the difference apparently. Also, you have to look out for the number codes—real Louis Vuitton bags have them but fake ones don't," Guy deadpanned. "But seriously, don't be so hard on her. She's really a nice person."
Connie searched Guy's face. "What else do you like about her?"
Guy squirmed a little—Connie's line of questioning was making him a little nervous. "Well, Francesca lets me drive her car sometimes, her dad owns St. Paul Honda and her mom makes a mean Key Lime pie."
Connie frowned, "Guy, be serious. I want to know."
Guy thought about it. "I guess I like Francesca because she laughs at my jokes and always makes me feel like my opinions matter." Guy could not be any more serious than he was at that moment.
"So, basically, she's not like me?" Connie was unsuccessful at hiding the hurt look on her face.
"No, Connie, that's not how I meant it at all." Guy almost slapped himself on the forehead.
"Guy, you don't have to apologize. I just had no idea that I made you feel that way." Connie stared down into the concrete and kicked at a pebble.
Guy turned the tables. "What about you, Connie? What is it about Zach Graft that makes your heart flutter?"
In her most serious tone, Connie answered, "Well obviously, he's popular, he can smash empty soda cans on his forehead with ease, and," Connie raised her pointer finger as if making the most important point of all, "he's in a band."
It was Guy's turn to frown. "Come on, Connie, be real."
Connie bit her lower lip, a habit of hers that Guy found totally sexy. "I guess I like Zach because he thinks that I'm feminine and sexy and attractive...He makes me feel like a girl."
"And I thought that I had been dating a guy this whole time?" Guy wasn't quite sure whether he was joking or if he was seriously indignant about that assertion.
"You know I don't mean it that way." She looked Guy straight in the eye. "I guess that we had been playing hockey for so long together that I became androgynous to you. I was just Connie, the one constant in your life that wasn't going to grow up and change. Well, guess what, Guy? I did and I have. I don't mean to sound like a sex-education video, but I'm becoming a young woman and sometimes I'd like to feel that way."
"Oh, jeez, Connie...You're embarrassing me." Guy wrapped his arm around Connie's shoulder and placed a kiss on her cheek. "You have to know that I'm crazy about you."
Connie looked up at Guy's face and reached up with her fingers to tweak his nose. "And YOU have to know that I always think your jokes are funny—even the one about the pirate in the desert—and your opinions matter to me. You know, that one time when you outlined the reasons why 'Bring It On' should be considered the best movie ever in the history of the world for three hours—I appreciated the amount of thought you put into that."
Guy laughed. "I guess we'd been going out for so long that we took each other for granted. How corny is that?"
The two of them continued to walk, Guy's arm still around Connie's shoulder. "Connie, do you remember when I told you that you weren't the same girl I knew when we first met?"
A dark expression passed through Connie's eyes. "Yes. What about it?"
Guy's tone was enigmatic. "I just wanted to tell you that I meant what I said. You're right and I was right; you aren't the same Connie that I met all those years back. You aren't obsessed with unicorns, don't wear headbands and can't play hopscotch anymore to save your life. For some reason, I woke up one day and realized this fact. What I failed to see, however, was that I had changed, too. It's all a part of growing up, I guess. It's just what people do. And that doesn't mean that our relationship was worse in some way—it was just different." Guy laughed to himself. "Jeez, I guess Banks does know what he's talking about. The point is that I still care about you, Connie. Can you forgive me?"
Connie smiled at him, a beautiful and vibrant smile that made Guy feel warm. "Of course—but on one condition..."
Guy grinned at Connie, and loved the feeling. "And that is?"
"Pull out that silly hat of yours for old times' sake." Guy couldn't tell if she was joking, and hoped to hell that she was.
"You cannot be serious. I think that I'm going to have to rethink all this."
There was another silence, but this time the silence was comfortable. Connie playfully shoved Guy by the arm. "Alright, you win. I just don't think anyone else could handle a resurrection of the hat."