How to Date a Nerd

Chapter 14 - How to Confess to a Drunk Girl

“That was close,” Sarah panted.

“Wait. You’re not going to Yale?” I repeated. For once something got me excited. Maybe she remembered something after all. Like our plans to go to UCLA.

With a sad little smile, she shrugged looking down. “Turns out, they would still have to evaluate if I am mentally fit to go to college. They’re doubtful if I could cope with the other students since I couldn’t really remember the last two years of my life… school included.”

“I’m sorry.” My smile faded. Sure thing, Sarah was stuck with me now and she won’t have to go to Yale. But I didn’t want everything to end this way. Hearing the bitterness in her voice made me ashamed of myself.

“Is there any other way? Like a test you have to pass so they’d let you in?” I added when she didn’t respond.

“Maybe.” She sounded miserable. I only realized how much she wanted this. “But it was no use. I don’t know what I did back then. It must’ve been something right to make me pass the tests and the interview, but I do know that I can’t do it anymore. All because of this stupid brain… I’m hopeless.”

All I wanted was to comfort her. Put a hand around her. Protect her from the world. But I couldn’t do it. I’d no right to. Instead, I turned to her and met her eyes. “Whether it’s hopeless or not, sometimes, it just depends on how you look at things. Perspective, Sarah. Perspective.”

“Yeah… I’m sure it’s that easy,” she muttered in a dubious tone.

“Try me. D’you want to know what I see now?”

She didn’t say anything but the light in her eyes told me that her answer was a yes.

“Okay. I see a girl. She lost her memories and forgot who I am. But that’s okay.” I didn’t blink. We just locked gazes for a while and I held on to that for as long as I could. “Because in front of me she’s still this wonderful girl who makes me smile. One who worries about my arm even though I almost lost her to a psycho school janitor. She might not remember how she got into Yale or that she got me this really cool watch for my birthday… but inside, nothing’s changed. To heck with your memories, Sarah. You’re still you.”

Three seconds passed. Five. Ten. She didn’t say anything. She just gaped, her lips parting a bit. With a quiet grunt, I stared at tip of my shoes. I shouldn’t have said that. I should NOT have said that!

“Kids! Dinner!” Emma called from the kitchen.

“Coming!” We both said as we hurried to the dining table.

Silently, we sat side by side. We didn’t speak to each other while we ate roast pork and potatoes. I kept popping food into my mouth. Sure, it looked good but I couldn’t appreciate anything. It was like chewing newspaper—the food got stuck in my throat. I got the feeling that she was ignoring me, again. Great. Way to go, Superstar.

After the homemade apple pie—half of which was eaten by Sarah—Freddy clinked the wine glasses and opened a bottle of red wine. As he filled in the glasses, Sarah cleared her throat and looked giddily at her dad.

“I’m eighteen, right?” she asked hesitantly like someone would say no.

“Yes. So?” Freddy paused.

“So… I can drink now. Come on Dad. Technically, it’s just four-point-five percent alcohol.”

Freddy threw a help me look at Emma who just shook her head subtly. Sarah wasn’t really a drinker. In fact, she was the worst drinker I’d ever seen. When I took her to Gloucester Beach in a yacht a year ago, she tried to jump off the deck after three glasses. So if Freddy would ask my opinion about this, I’d rather chain her somewhere far away from the liquor.