The scene was tense. Andrews' on one side, Verbinski's on the other. "Wendy honey," my dad began. "Take the kids to the car." My mom began to shuffle Jack and I in the direction of our car the same way she always did when we were six-year-olds. "Chill mom, we can walk on our own, we're both like 20." Jack protested. As my mom shuffled my brother and I to the car, Greg Verbinski got the same idea. "Gwen dear, escort our children to the car as well." Mr. Verbinski said in a stilted, cold tone. As I was being shuffled to our car by my mother, I looked back at the scene. I spotted Bianca and her brother being shuffled by their mother, and noticed Bianca was also staring back. We locked eyes and she was giving me a look. Not a hostile, biting look like the rest of our families were giving each other, which is what I was expecting, but more a look of confusion and concern. 2 minutes later, we were all back in the car. Everyone else was still heated after what took place. My dad started the car as he said with a sigh, "Well, no need to let anything ruin our Memorial Day. Let's just forget any of that happened."
But I didn't want to forget.
About a week later, the whole incident was still on my mind. "Why did she have to be a Verbinski?" I often asked myself. "How could she be a Verbinski?" I'd always assumed since I was a kid, judging from all the things my dad told me, the Verbinskis were stuck up, upper class elitist pigs. Well, maybe they could have been, but Bianca? Oh no, Bianca was different. She just had to be. I lay on my bed as I went back and forth in my mind, staring at her photos on Instagram. I'd been thinking about texting her all week, but had absolutely no clue if she'd even want to see me, or how she felt about me being an Andrews. I kept going back to the incident at the cemetery, that look she'd given me. What did it mean? It wasn't an angry look, nor was it a look of betrayal. I'd gotten enough of those looks from girls that I knew for sure that it wasn't one of those looks. Overanalyzing and speculating on heavy matters such as this did absolutely nothing to help me get sleep, which is exactly what I should've been doing right then. I put my phone down and made a decision. I won't contact her. No it would just be too messy. She's a Verbinski, I'm an Andrews. It just couldn't work. Neither of our parents would approve. No, no, it's all just too inconvenient. That's my final decision. I closed my eyes and tried to forget the whole thing, just like dad said I should. I tried to get my mind to think about other things, anything at all, but I should know by now that that never works with me. Eventually everything I could think about always led back to Bianca. Her big blue eyes, her brown frizzy hair, her lovely lips. I remembered the conversations we had, the way she seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say, her witty comebacks to my sarcastic remarks, her laugh. Oh, her laugh?
I tried one last time to suppress my thoughts, but at this point it was useless. I grunted and sat up on my bed as I made my decision. I grabbed my phone, got back on Instagram, slid into her DMs and did the one thing I'd never thought I'd do.
I began to text Bianca Verbinski.
When I made contact, much to my relief, Bianca didn't seem to hate me. She told me that she doesn't care that I'm from the Andrews family and she thought that her family was just being stupid. Of course I told her I shared the same sentiment about my family. I told her I wanted to see her again, and she said she'd been thinking the same thing. I asked her if she wanted to meet up and she said yes. So, we came up with a plan. To avoid any chance encounters with people either of us may know, we decided to meet up at a pizza place between where I lived in Tysonburg and where she lived 40 minutes away in Springfield.
The night finally came. Mom and Jack were in the kitchen when I started to rush out of the house. I began putting my shoes on when my mom asked "Where are you going?" "Oh," I said. I probably should have come up with an excuse beforehand, but I didn't. And because I didn't, I had to scramble up an excuse on the fly. "Uhh, yeah, yeah. I'm uhh- going on a hike with Sid and Nick. You know how they love physical activity." I said, hoping I was convincing enough. "Unlike some people I know." Jack chimed in. I shot him a death glare. "Which trail are you guys going to?" asked mom. "Hell's Canyon." I said. By then I was trying my hardest to get out of there before I raised any suspicion. I started to turn toward the door. "That's not the one where those bear maulings have been happening is it?" "No, no, that's the other one." I said. "What other one?" my mom began, but at that point, I was already halfway out the doorway. "Gotta go, bye!" I blurted out and rushed out the back door. Well that could have gone badly, but hopefully it was convincing enough. Even from that, I'm sure no one could tell I was lying. I didn't usually lie about that stuff to my mom, so I brushed my worries off and hopped into the car to get to our meeting place.
On the drive over, I wondered how much of this was genuine. Yes, she agreed to see me again, despite the crap that's between our families, but how would I know if Bianca is gonna pull any tricks? For all I knew, she could be conspiring with her family to get back at mine. Could that be what she's planning? To take my heart and break it, all for petty revenge? As cynical and paranoid as I usually am, I decided it was worth the risk. Yes, for all I know she could be trying to get me where it hurts most, but also for all I knew, she is genuinely interested in me. And that doesn't happen every day. I parked in the parking lot of the pizza restaurant. As I walked up to the front door I looked real quick at my reflection in the glass. I looked good. Also something that doesn't happen every day. I go in and spot her at a table. We see each other and I walk over, excited but nervous. "Hey Bianca. Good to see you again." I say as I take a seat. "It's great to see you again too, Harlan." She said "great to see you" as opposed to just "good to see you", that must be a good sign. "Hey, I'm sorry about that incident at the cemetery." I say. "The whole thing just kind of caught us off guard." "Oh, don't worry about it," said Bianca "I thought the whole thing was stupid too. But, it's good to know someone's family out there is nearly as crazy as mine." "Well, I'm not surprised to find out that it's my family." I say, to which she laughs. Oh, I can definitely get used to hearing that laugh. A waiter comes to our table and we unanimously decide on a large pepperoni and sausage, New York style. Not only was she cute, and not only could she bear to stand me, but we both had the same taste in pizza? This was just too perfect. What wasn't perfect however was the lull in the conversation. I'm no good at lulls, so I panicked and just asked the first question that I could muster up in my mind. "So?What's your middle name?" I asked, desperate to break the ice. "Katherine." she said. "Bianca Katherine. That's very Shakespearian isn't it?" I say. "You know Shakespeare?" she asked, seemingly excited that I would know anything about it. "Oh yeah, my mom wouldn't let me get this far in life without knowing a little Shakespeare." I said. "Well then, I think we'll get along just fine." she says. After that, we had what I can only describe as one of the best conversations I've had on a date, maybe even one of the best I've had in my life. None of my awkwardness or brain blockage came, no forced laughter, and both of us seemed to be so in sync with each other. Overall, I had a pretty good time with someone who was supposed to be my enemy.
But I didn't want to forget.
About a week later, the whole incident was still on my mind. "Why did she have to be a Verbinski?" I often asked myself. "How could she be a Verbinski?" I'd always assumed since I was a kid, judging from all the things my dad told me, the Verbinskis were stuck up, upper class elitist pigs. Well, maybe they could have been, but Bianca? Oh no, Bianca was different. She just had to be. I lay on my bed as I went back and forth in my mind, staring at her photos on Instagram. I'd been thinking about texting her all week, but had absolutely no clue if she'd even want to see me, or how she felt about me being an Andrews. I kept going back to the incident at the cemetery, that look she'd given me. What did it mean? It wasn't an angry look, nor was it a look of betrayal. I'd gotten enough of those looks from girls that I knew for sure that it wasn't one of those looks. Overanalyzing and speculating on heavy matters such as this did absolutely nothing to help me get sleep, which is exactly what I should've been doing right then. I put my phone down and made a decision. I won't contact her. No it would just be too messy. She's a Verbinski, I'm an Andrews. It just couldn't work. Neither of our parents would approve. No, no, it's all just too inconvenient. That's my final decision. I closed my eyes and tried to forget the whole thing, just like dad said I should. I tried to get my mind to think about other things, anything at all, but I should know by now that that never works with me. Eventually everything I could think about always led back to Bianca. Her big blue eyes, her brown frizzy hair, her lovely lips. I remembered the conversations we had, the way she seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say, her witty comebacks to my sarcastic remarks, her laugh. Oh, her laugh?
I tried one last time to suppress my thoughts, but at this point it was useless. I grunted and sat up on my bed as I made my decision. I grabbed my phone, got back on Instagram, slid into her DMs and did the one thing I'd never thought I'd do.
I began to text Bianca Verbinski.
When I made contact, much to my relief, Bianca didn't seem to hate me. She told me that she doesn't care that I'm from the Andrews family and she thought that her family was just being stupid. Of course I told her I shared the same sentiment about my family. I told her I wanted to see her again, and she said she'd been thinking the same thing. I asked her if she wanted to meet up and she said yes. So, we came up with a plan. To avoid any chance encounters with people either of us may know, we decided to meet up at a pizza place between where I lived in Tysonburg and where she lived 40 minutes away in Springfield.
The night finally came. Mom and Jack were in the kitchen when I started to rush out of the house. I began putting my shoes on when my mom asked "Where are you going?" "Oh," I said. I probably should have come up with an excuse beforehand, but I didn't. And because I didn't, I had to scramble up an excuse on the fly. "Uhh, yeah, yeah. I'm uhh- going on a hike with Sid and Nick. You know how they love physical activity." I said, hoping I was convincing enough. "Unlike some people I know." Jack chimed in. I shot him a death glare. "Which trail are you guys going to?" asked mom. "Hell's Canyon." I said. By then I was trying my hardest to get out of there before I raised any suspicion. I started to turn toward the door. "That's not the one where those bear maulings have been happening is it?" "No, no, that's the other one." I said. "What other one?" my mom began, but at that point, I was already halfway out the doorway. "Gotta go, bye!" I blurted out and rushed out the back door. Well that could have gone badly, but hopefully it was convincing enough. Even from that, I'm sure no one could tell I was lying. I didn't usually lie about that stuff to my mom, so I brushed my worries off and hopped into the car to get to our meeting place.
On the drive over, I wondered how much of this was genuine. Yes, she agreed to see me again, despite the crap that's between our families, but how would I know if Bianca is gonna pull any tricks? For all I knew, she could be conspiring with her family to get back at mine. Could that be what she's planning? To take my heart and break it, all for petty revenge? As cynical and paranoid as I usually am, I decided it was worth the risk. Yes, for all I know she could be trying to get me where it hurts most, but also for all I knew, she is genuinely interested in me. And that doesn't happen every day. I parked in the parking lot of the pizza restaurant. As I walked up to the front door I looked real quick at my reflection in the glass. I looked good. Also something that doesn't happen every day. I go in and spot her at a table. We see each other and I walk over, excited but nervous. "Hey Bianca. Good to see you again." I say as I take a seat. "It's great to see you again too, Harlan." She said "great to see you" as opposed to just "good to see you", that must be a good sign. "Hey, I'm sorry about that incident at the cemetery." I say. "The whole thing just kind of caught us off guard." "Oh, don't worry about it," said Bianca "I thought the whole thing was stupid too. But, it's good to know someone's family out there is nearly as crazy as mine." "Well, I'm not surprised to find out that it's my family." I say, to which she laughs. Oh, I can definitely get used to hearing that laugh. A waiter comes to our table and we unanimously decide on a large pepperoni and sausage, New York style. Not only was she cute, and not only could she bear to stand me, but we both had the same taste in pizza? This was just too perfect. What wasn't perfect however was the lull in the conversation. I'm no good at lulls, so I panicked and just asked the first question that I could muster up in my mind. "So?What's your middle name?" I asked, desperate to break the ice. "Katherine." she said. "Bianca Katherine. That's very Shakespearian isn't it?" I say. "You know Shakespeare?" she asked, seemingly excited that I would know anything about it. "Oh yeah, my mom wouldn't let me get this far in life without knowing a little Shakespeare." I said. "Well then, I think we'll get along just fine." she says. After that, we had what I can only describe as one of the best conversations I've had on a date, maybe even one of the best I've had in my life. None of my awkwardness or brain blockage came, no forced laughter, and both of us seemed to be so in sync with each other. Overall, I had a pretty good time with someone who was supposed to be my enemy.
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