Previously in our story ...
That night, I started a new journal. I hadn’t kept a regular diary since high school, but after having been called “beautiful” by the man on whom I had a crush I couldn’t seem to shake, I figured I’d have a lot of thoughts I might want to get out.
The next week, I started reading Max Lucado’s Traveling Light. I don’t usually complete study guides printed at the end of books, but I decided to work through the one included with Traveling Light. The questions for the first chapter included, “What burdens are your loved ones needlessly bearing? What can you do to help them lay down those unnecessary burdens?”
I started my answer by making a list of loved ones. I deliberated whether or not to include Adam on my list, but in the end I decided to do so. As I considered what I might be able to do to help, the only thing that came to mind was prayer. As I prayed through my list, I remembered a specific request Adam had made the week before. He shared with the group that he was struggling with some relationship issues. He had been somewhat vague as to what that actually meant, but as I prayed for his struggle, I got a picture in my mind of a butterfly struggling to get out of his cocoon. I’d remembered reading once that it is this very struggle that strengthens the butterflies wings enough that he can fly. After much internal debate, I determined that Adam may well find this encouraging and I should write him a note. What finally brought me to a decision was that I also wrote a note to another friend for whom I'd prayed that day (but toward whom I did not have any romantic feelings).
The following Sunday, Adam came to talk to me after church. He thanked me for my card and told me he really appreciated it. I tried to keep my simpering to a minimum. We chatted for several minutes and decided to have lunch together with a friend of his. We did the same a week later, only the group at lunch was a bit larger. I tried to arrange a seat beside Adam or across from him, but didn’t manage it. I talked to the people sitting near me, but kept half an ear on Adam’s conversation at the other end of the table. I missed a lot, but they seemed to be talking about going to see The Matrix Reloaded, which had just come out.
As the lunch party was breaking up, my friend Andie*, another of the Sunday school teachers, and I had decided to go for coffee at the little shop across the parking lot from the restaurant where we’d eaten. I had been hoping to garner an invite to the movie with the guys, but that didn’t seem to be happening. Instead, One of the guys was asking Adam if he was coming with. He looked hesitant and glanced toward Andie and me. Andie, knowing my feelings for Adam, told him we were going for coffee. I hadn’t been planning to invite him, since I’d assumed he had other plans, but found myself asking, “Do you want to come?”
I was shocked that he said, “Yes.” I was even more shocked that our little coffee went on for nearly four hours. Adam and I sat across from one another, keeping up most of the conversation. Andie sat to one side and watched with a grin on her face. She didn’t do much talking, but she did manage to arrange a game night for us at Adam’s house the next week.
Game night started with dinner. Adam, his roommate, my friend Kate, and a couple of others gathered at Adam’s house for a spaghetti casserole and Trivial Pursuit. Kate won the game, as I recall, but I came in ahead of Adam. While we were boxing up the game, one of the guys started flipping through a brochure for an outdoor music festival. I mentioned a concert I would like to see the following month. As we said our good-byes, Adam asked if I’d like to make an outing of the concert. I said, “Sure!” and left with Kate.
Once we were safely ensconced in the car, I turned to her and asked, “Did I just get asked on a date?”
She responded, “It sure sounded like it to me.”
* Names have been changed because I forgot to ask anybody if I could use their real names.
Don't forget to check out Adam's side of the story today over at Transforming Word.