This Is My Brain in Love - I. W. Gregorio Page 0,50
vetting all her e-mails? Or worse, what if he’s logging into her e-mail and deleting my messages without even opening them?
“Dude, you’ve been staring at that screen and rocking back and forth in a modified fetal position for fifteen minutes.”
I look up, and Manny’s got the empty can of Pringles in his hand. He tosses it into the trash can with a hollow clank. He’s got pity in his eyes, and I want to say something, but instead my gaze shoots right back to the computer screen. I hit the refresh button before I even realize what I’m doing.
“Man, you are so far gone.”
I don’t even bother arguing. Instead, I check to make sure the Wi-Fi connection is still on. Manny sighs and reaches over to slam my computer shut.
“Hey!” I sputter. “At least let me shut it down properly.” Keeping computers on standby is a waste of electricity; Manny knows that.
“Listen, Will, I know you’re new to this game, but you’ve gotta learn how to make like Elsa and let it go. If she’s into you, she’ll find a way to let you know what’s going on. If she’s not, she’s not worth it anyway.” Apparently I don’t look convinced, because suddenly, he brightens and puts on his faux innocent face, the one that means my goat’s about to get gotten. “You know what Javier would say in a situation like this. If you love something…”
My eyes widen. “No! Manny, don’t say the bird thing! Anything but the bird thing.”
“… set it free. If it’s yours, it will come back. If it doesn’t, it wasn’t meant to be.”
It’s a running joke in our group that Javier Diaz is the king of inspirational refrigerator magnet wisdom. His kitchen is littered with them, the majority purchased by his spinster aunt Maritza, who dispenses them to everyone in his extended family as stocking stuffers each year, along with saint-themed Christmas ornaments. Javier first trotted out the “If you love something” chestnut in seventh grade, after Tim became the first one in our group to get to first base when he made out with Natalie Silverman in the coatroom of his cousin’s bat mitzvah. Since then it’s been endearingly, annoyingly applied to dozens of “relationships” ranging from e-mail flirtations to friendly text messages with lab partners to that time when Manny had a lunch date with Madison Nguyen when they both represented Turkey at a Model UN conference.
“Screw you, Manny,” I say. “I’m not going to get Jocelyn back by listening to advice that came off a refrigerator magnet.”
“Aw, Will—don’t knock the wisdom. And I don’t think it was from any of the Diazes’ appliances—I think it was from a poster. Or at least a button.”
At the beginning of high school, Javi upgraded from magnets to buttons, which eventually covered every bit of canvas on his backpack, even the straps. This past year he convinced the school librarian that a button maker would be a good purchase for the media department, and he started making his own. This was also the year his school counselor gave him exercises to study irony and humor: He ended up making buttons of a smiling Captain America saying things like, “I’m so happy that the POTUS appreciates the ‘very fine’ Nazis in America today!”
“I don’t think the bird quote was from a button,” I tell Manny. “You know what a button would be great for, though?” I ask in a burst of inspiration. “I bet we could make some kickass swag for A-Plus to use the next time we have a booth. Something like, ‘Use Your Noodle, Order Chinese Tonight,’ or ‘Keep Calm and Eat Dumplings.’”
Manny gives me a weird look. “Yeah, I’m sure they could do that. You gonna be okay, buddy? I know it can be tough to move on sometimes.…”
“It’s not like that,” I say. “I’m not in denial or anything.” If anything, I’m experiencing the opposite of denial: I’m hyperaware of every possible negative outcome from being caught parking by Jocelyn’s dad. I know things are messed up right now and they might never go back to the way they were—but I can’t just turn off my brain when it comes to ways to help their business. If the business fails, and the Wus move to New York City, Jocelyn and I will never have the chance to see what we could become.
The button idea is the thing that gets me through the days of uncertainty that follow. I spend hours making three