I sit there as the world passes by. The buzzing of people talking, laughing, and moving about creates a blanket of white noise that surrounds me. My mind is focused on a thought. Time slows, bringing busy shoppers to a standstill as I make up my mind.
"What do I do?" I wonder. "Kaitlyn is waiting for an answer." I look up and see the excitement in her eyes. The usually dark-brown eyes are shining with anticipation.
"Well?" she asks. Her smile shrinks a little, as she grows impatient.
"There's so many people," I say. "What will they think of me? I don't want to look like some stupid teen running through a shopping centre."
"Well, first of all, you're not a teenager remember?" she responds, keeping her composure.
"Yes, but two 20-year-olds running through a store definitely look like stupid teenagers."
"And second of all," she continued, ignoring my anxious rebuttals, "it will be super fun. Sometimes, you just gotta have fun and not care what people think. I know deep-down there is a child inside you just waiting to burst out."
I sighed as I watched her tilt her head to the side like a puppy wanting food. Her now-faded red hair fell gently down her face and onto her front. She brushed it away, exposing her blonde roots, and placed the unruly strands behind her ear.
"Why argue at this point?" I reason with myself, "She always gets what she wants, one way or another. We'll just run to the nearest exit and I'll try not to make too much of a scene."
"Fine. I'll do it," I say, defeated. "But here are my conditions..."
"Yay!" she says, cutting me off. "Let's go!"
My eyes widen and fear grows in me as she rises sharply out of her chair and starts to run. Panic takes hold of me as I realise, if I don't chase after her, I'll be running on my own. Running alone is 1000 times more embarrassing than running with her, and people are less likely to question two people running together than one guy running on his own.
"Wait!" I call out, louder than I initially intended.
I get up out of my seat and realise I'll have to leave our rubbish on the food court table. "Sorry," I internally apologize to the world as I begin running. "I don't have time to put it in the bin! I need to catch up!" I sprint after her, much faster than I ever planned to run.
Ahead of me, I see her blue denim jacket forming a cape behind her as she zig-zags between the crowd. People stare at her as she passes by. Her shoes squeak with each sharp change in direction as she dodges the onlookers. She turns to look back at me and beams a beautiful smile. The sight of me desperately trying to catch up to her makes her giggle as she runs as fast as she can through the army of shoppers.
I catch myself enjoying the experience and immediately remind myself that I didn't want to do this. I can't help but laugh as I feel the anxiety leave my body and let the feeling of excitement take over. The cool airconditioned air creates a pleasant breeze on my face as I dash through the centre. Now all I can think about is how to overtake Kaitlyn and which line between the crowd will be the most efficient.
"Gotcha," I say as I run past her. I stretch out a hand to tag her on the back but miss due to our combined erratic movements. My hand hits lower than expected on the small of her back and slides down to slap her ass.
Laughing, she says, "Hey! Look who's enjoying themselves," not seeming to be bothered by the mistake.
"Shut up," I childishly retort, as I take the lead. "Looks who's losing," I say behind me, as I race through the crowd, leaving her far behind.
I make it to the parking lot and wait for her around the corner of the building--away from anyone who may judge us for running. She rushes at me and hugs me hard enough to knock some air out of me.
"Oof!" I say as she hits. She spins me around in her arms squealing with excitement.
"That was so fun! I felt like a kid again. Aren't you glad you ran, too? I know you enjoyed yourself!" she said, speaking at a million words per minute.
I awkwardly release the hug but my hands are trapped firmly within hers. I've never been much of a hugger and almost always stand there gawkily with my arms draped robotically around whoever has decided to hug me. The only person besides close family who ever hugs me is Kaitlyn. It is still very robotic--often ending with a double-pat on the back--but I still allow her to. It just feels different when she hugs me. Always uncomfortable, but different from everyone else. Kaitlyn is my closest, and oldest, friend. It's simply better when she is hugging me. Or maybe, she has just earned the privilege after all these years.
Kaitlyn slows the swinging of our arms as her heavy breathing becomes steady. For a second, we stand together holding hands before she remembers my discomfort with physical interaction. With an acknowledging nod, she releases my hands.
"So?" she says with fulfilment.
"It was not so bad, after all," I say humbly, accepting her gloating smile.
"Of course, it was," I think to myself "She always convinces me to do stuff I don't want to do. It very rarely goes wrong and I almost always enjoy the thrill of being outside of my comfort zone."
"All my ideas are good ones. You should know that by now, Jake." She slapped me on the ass. Hard. On the ass.
"Ow!" I exclaimed. "What was that for?"
"Nothing. You started it, you big teenager you."
"I did not hit you that hard," I replied. "Besides, my hand slipped."
"Oh, your hand slipped?" she mocked. "You sure you just didn't want to feel all...this?" she said, as she grasped her ass with both hands. She squeezed each cheek and shook her ass at me.
I knew better than to think she was doing anything flirtatious. In fact, I barely noticed the apparent sexual nature of her actions. This is just what Kaitlyn was like. The entire time I've known her she has been outgoing, overconfident, and never thought twice about what she said or did. We make such good friends because I am exactly the opposite. I overthink everything and have very little social confidence. Most of the trouble we find ourselves in is due to her getting some crazy idea from me.
I'll watch some strangers playing volleyball at the beach and ask her who she thinks is the better player and she will decide she wants to join in and play them to see. We will be engaging in thoughtful discussion about a hypothetical situation and she will suggest we just try it out. Sometimes, she'll just make something up on the spot with her own crazy imagination and I just have to deal with it. If you spend any time with her, you've probably had to sit and watch her dance to absolute silence as she expresses her emotions, ranging from happiness, excitement, dance emotion (which I, to no avail, insist is not an emotion) thoughtfulness and even boredom. Kaitlyn is a free spirit and seeks anything that will bring her enjoyment.
Because we are so different, my thoughtfulness often gives her ideas she could never come up with on her own. She loves that more than any of her own ideas. Whenever I give her a novel idea, she loves it because she believes that she "would absolutely, never ever ever have come up with that idea" herself. And very rarely, on the bluest of moons, my hesitancy and tendency to think things through does stop her from following through with her harebrained idea. Which is a good thing, because on those occasions, I keep us from getting into situations we can't come back from. I swear, we would have been expelled from school had I once let us "just sneak down to the shops". Or allowed her to think that she "can totally climb in through that window up there" into the classroom.
*****
Later that day, I find myself lying lazily on the living room couch. Kaitlyn is on the couch beside me--upside-down, of course--swinging her legs in the air.
"I'm...kinda bored," she sighed.
