Read Chop, Chop Page 12


  Yeah, right . . . like I was going to write that down.

  She wrote on the board, GOAL.

  “What you saw yourself doing . . . that is your goal,” she said. “Write this down in your composition notebooks. It’s very important that you write it in positive terms and in present tense. Your mind will not like for you to say something that is not true. If you keep saying something that is not true, your subconscious mind will begin working to either make you quit saying it or to make what you are saying true. If you persist and keep saying it, your mind will figure out a way to help you achieve your goal. You get what you focus on.

  “Don’t ever begin a goal with the words ‘I will not . . .’ – you want the goal to be expressed in positive terms, like this: ‘I have lost ten pounds,’ or ‘I am making straight A’s’. Write your goal in your composition book now.”

  Someone raised their hand.

  “Can it be two sentences?”

  “You can make it two sentences if you have to, but it’s better to make your goal as concise as possible.”

  I wrote: GOAL – I am on the Dean’s List at State. (Jessica always made the Dean’s List and Mom and Dad seemed pretty happy about it.)

  In my mind though, I wrote: GOAL – I am dancing at the prom with my girlfriend, Sam.

  “Next,” the teacher said, “you need to write a specific time frame to achieve your goal. Your goal must be measurable in time. For example, maybe you want to lose ten pounds by December, or perhaps you want to make straight A’s by the end of the spring semester.

  In my composition notebook I wrote: Each semester at college.

  In my mind I wrote: April.

  “Now,” she continued. “You need to write down at least three steps, three things that you can do, that will help you achieve your goal. For example, if I wanted to lose ten pounds by December then I would need to perhaps exercise four times a week for an hour each time, increase the number of leafy green vegetables I eat to five servings a day, and eliminate all sugar products from my diet. Think about three things that will help you to achieve your goal. Don’t forget to write these in positive terms as well.”

  In my notebook I wrote:

  1) Spend two hours each night studying for my classes.

  2) Complete all major assignments at least one week before they are due.

  3) Keep my notes and handouts organized.

  I looked up. The teacher was standing behind me, reading over my shoulder what I had written. She smiled at me and gave me a nod of approval.

  I smiled back at her and in my mind I wrote:

  1) Ask Sam to dance with me at the Homecoming Dance.

  2) Give Sam a Christmas present.

  3) Ask Sam out on a date.

  “Okay, class,” she said as she walked back to the front of the room. “Now to make this goal a reality, you need to focus on it. Each day you need to state your goal to yourself in positive terms. Say it over and over to yourself. Remember, you get what you focus on. Set that goal in the forefront of your mind. Keep that vision right there where you can see it. Picture yourself, achieving your goal, over and over. ‘I have lost ten pounds . . . I have lost ten pounds’. Picture it.

  “If you commit to doing this and make yourself take the steps that you’ve listed, your mind is going to help you figure out a way to make your goal a reality. Everybody practice now. Close your eyes. Concentrate. Say it to yourself and picture it.”

  I am dancing at the prom with my girlfriend, Sam. I am dancing at the prom with my girlfriend, Sam. I closed my eyes and saw myself at the prom in the spring with Sam. We were slow dancing and I was holding her close. She was my girlfriend.

  “Can you do that, class? Are you willing to do what’s necessary to achieve your goal?”

  I opened my eyes. She was scanning the class, searching for affirmation. When she looked at me I nodded at her and smiled. I could do that. No problem.

  A few weeks later I was at Kennedy’s in the mall with Greg, looking for a suit for my cousin’s wedding in New York. I was going to get to miss school on Friday. We went on an afternoon when Laci was working so she could give me her employee discount. Mom told me to get the suit a little too big in case I needed it again in the next year or so.

  “You’re so lucky you’re going to New York,” Greg said.

  “Yes, that’s me,” I replied. “Lucky, lucky, lucky.”

  “What’s your problem now?” he asked.

  The Homecoming Dance was only two weeks away and I had promised myself I was going to ask Sam to dance. I was already starting to get worried about it.

  “Nothing,” I muttered. “Hey! Look at that!” I pointed at a leather jacket on a mannequin. “I wonder how mad Mom would be if I bought that instead of a suit.”

  “Um . . . I’m thinking pretty mad,” Greg said.

  I looked at the price tag on the jacket.

  “Wow! Never mind . . . I don’t have enough money anyway.”

  Laci walked up to us.

  “Hey, Laci!” I said. “What kind of a deal can you cut me on this jacket?”

  “I thought you were here to buy a suit.”

  “I am, but just think how good I’d look in that jacket.”

  She smiled at me.

  “Let’s see,” she said, taking it off the mannequin and handing it to me.

  “Feel this!” I said to Greg, shoving it at him.

  “It’s lovely,” he said.

  I put it on and looked at myself in the three-way mirror.

  “Now THAT,” I smiled, “is one fine-looking man.”

  Laci laughed.

  “Joo lewk mah-vah-lous!” Greg agreed. I took it off reluctantly and handed it back to Laci.

  “Can you hold it for me?” I asked her.

  “Until when?” she asked.

  “Until he’s a rich engineer,” Greg said.

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “I’m thinking about six years.”

  “Sorry,” she said, smiling and putting it back on the mannequin.

  We walked over to the suits and started looking for my size, but I found myself glancing back at the leather jacket. All I could think was that I bet Sam would notice me if I showed up somewhere wearing that.

  By the time the Homecoming Dance rolled around I was a nervous wreck. Like we did at every game, Laci and Greg and I sat together to cheer Tanner and Mike on. All through the game I kept watching Sam cheer and I practiced asking her to dance in my mind. When Mike recovered the other team’s fumble and made a touchdown, I completely missed the whole play.

  At the dance I danced with Laci and a few other friends – anything to put off asking Sam – but when I finally noticed the DJ’s wife beginning to wind up extension cords I knew I was running out of time. I forced myself to walk over to her.

  I am dancing at the prom with my girlfriend, Sam. I am dancing at the prom with my girlfriend, Sam.

  “Hi, Sam,” I said as the last slow song of the evening started to play. “Do you want to dance?”

  “I’d love to,” she said, taking my hand. I swallowed hard and led her to the dance floor. I was shaking and hoped she wouldn’t notice. She put her arms around my neck and I put mine around her waist and then she moved closer to me and laid her head on my shoulder. I could smell her hair. It smelled like suntan lotion and I inhaled deeply, thinking that, if I could just stay there forever – smelling suntan lotion and holding her – I would never need anything else again.

  When the song ended I had stopped shaking and was feeling quite proud of myself. Life Skills was my favorite, favorite class and the smell of suntan lotion was the greatest scent in the world.

  Mom and Dad had let me take the car and when I gave Greg a lift home I told him all about my dance with Sam in vivid detail. He didn’t seem as happy for me as I’d expected, but he didn’t call me grumpy a single time during the entire ride home.

  The next thing I needed to do was buy Sam a Christmas present. I started shopping in early Nove
mber, knowing that I would buy her a bracelet, but wanting it to be the perfect one. She wore bracelets a lot and I watched them dangle from her wrist as she passed notes back and forth to Angel in history. The week after the Homecoming Dance, a tightly folded note had landed on my desk and I read it after class, locked in a stall in the bathroom:

  Luv Sam.

  LUV Sam . . .

  I caught her by her locker after school.

  “What time are you going to the movies?” I asked her.

  “Seven-thirty,” she said. “Are you coming?”

  “I’ll try,” I nodded and she smiled.

  The movie experience was not all I had hoped for. I didn’t get to smell her hair or even sit close to her because there were about five other people with her and somehow I got separated from her when everyone was deciding where to sit. The experience was, however, satisfying enough that I could barely tell Mom anything about the movie when I got home.

  I bought her not only a bracelet, but matching earrings and a necklace. I wasn’t sure what I was doing, so I made Jessica come along with me when she was home for Thanksgiving.

  “Are you sure?” I asked her.

  “She’ll love them.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked again. “This is really important, Jess.”

  “Yes,” she said, “I’m sure. They’re very pretty. There’s no way she’s not going to like them. Relax.”

  “Why does everybody always tell me to relax?” I asked.

  “Because,” she told me, “you need to relax!”

  “Easier said than done,” I said and I headed to the counter to pay for them before I could change my mind.

  I waited until the last minute to give them to her. The bell rang, dismissing us for Christmas break. I was waiting for her when she got to her locker.

  “Hi, David,” she said, smiling at me.

  “Hi, Sam,” I said. I was nervous, but I don’t think I was shaking. “I have something for you . . .”

  I handed her the package.

  “Oh, David! That’s so sweet!” she said. “Should I open it now or wait until Christmas?”

  “You can open it now,” I said, and she did.

  “Oh, my God!! I love them. They’re beautiful!” I was looking at her smile, trying to make sure she really liked them, when she kissed me suddenly on the lips. “Thank you!” she said, still smiling.

  “You’re welcome,” I said. “Merry Christmas!”

  Jessica was coming home tomorrow. I walked to the bus, smiling and thinking that I was going to tell her that she had really, really great taste in jewelry.

  ~ ~ ~

  CHRISTMAS OF MY junior year in high school was the best I ever had. It started when I pulled a tiny box from under our tree and opened a set of keys. With Mom and Dad and Jessica following I ran out into the garage and laid eyes on my first car. It was sporty enough that I loved it, but it was also loaded with enough safety features to ease Mom’s mind.

  “Can I go show Greg?” I begged.

  “Go ahead,” Mom sighed.

  Despite how excited I was, I remembered to grab Greg’s present before I left. I’d bought him a subscription to Popular Science and Mrs. White had snuck the first issue to me before Greg saw it. It was wrapped up in a shirt box with a gift subscription card. I knew his dad was going to love it too and I was pretty proud of myself. I even had a stuffed bear for Charlotte.

  I bounded up the brick steps and rang the doorbell. Charlotte answered the door, still in her pajamas, and threw her arms around my knees.

  “Merry Christmas, David!”

  “Hey, Charlotte!” I said, handing her the bear. She hugged me again and ran off to show her parents.

  Greg was sitting on the floor in front of the tree trying to take one of Charlotte’s toys out of its box. It was fastened in with a variety of clips and screws and he was working with a screwdriver, a knife, and a pair of scissors.

  “Merry Christmas!” I said, tossing the shirt box at him.

  “Thanks,” he said, taking the box “but if this is going to be hard to open I don’t think I want it.”

  “Naw,” I replied, flopping down on the couch. “I wrapped it myself. You’re lucky it didn’t fall open already.”

  He opened it up, took out the magazine and read the card. I could tell that he liked it.

  “Thanks,” he said. “Dad’ll like it too.”

  “That’s what I figured,” I said. I had my keys around my finger and was twirling them.

  He finally noticed.

  “No way!”

  “Yep!” I knew I was grinning like Cheshire cat.

  “Are you serious?” he asked.

  “Come see for yourself!”

  We went out into the driveway and he gave the car all the proper respect it deserved.

  “Go get your coat on,” I said, “I might even let you drive.”

  “Hang on,” he replied and ran into the house.

  When he came back out he had a large package with him.

  “Here,” he said, handing it to me.

  “Thanks!” I ripped the paper off and opened the box. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was the leather jacket we’d seen at the mall when I’d bought my suit for the wedding.

  “Oh, man . . . you didn’t have to do this,” I said.

  “Yeah, I know,” he was smiling. I couldn’t imagine how many hours he’d had to work to pay for it even with any discounts Laci might have been able to get him.

  “I can’t accept this.”

  “You have to,” he said. “There was this huge sale . . . no exchanges, no returns.”

  “Liar.”

  “Try it on.”

  I did.

  “Is it too big?” He looked worried.

  “No,” I said, “it’s perfect. Hopefully I’m still growing and I’m going to want to wear this forever. It’s perfect. Thank you.”

  He seemed genuinely pleased.

  To show my appreciation, I let him drive first. That gave me a chance to examine the console and glove compartment of my new car and the pockets of my new jacket.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so much,” Greg said, glancing at me.

  “I’m not having a bad day,” I admitted. “Keep your eyes on the road.”

  “Where do you want to go?” he asked.

  “Let’s drive by Sam’s house.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure! I bet I could knock on her door and ask her to marry me and she’d take one look at my new jacket and my new car and she’d throw herself into my arms.”

  He waved a hand at me dismissively and he shook his head. “You don’t want to marry her.”

  “Keep both hands on the wheel,” I said. “How do you know? I might want to marry her.”

  “Naw,” he shook his head. “She’s not the one for you.”

  “What are you talking about?” I thought about the kiss she’d given me in the hall. “Sam and I are getting close.”

  With that he burst out laughing.

  “No, you’re not, man. You and Sam are never going to be close.”

  “Yes we are!” I argued.

  “You know what I should have bought you for Christmas?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “A telescope,” he said. When I didn’t say anything he went on. “You know why?”

  I had a feeling I didn’t want to know.

  “Why?” I finally asked.

  “Because you and Sam are so far apart that you need a telescope to see her.” With that remark he formed his fingers into a tube and held them up to his eye as if he was peering through a telescope.

  “Very funny,” I replied. “Keep both hands on the wheel.”

  “I’m serious, David,” he said. “She’s not the one for you.”

  “Why would you say that?” I asked, hearing the anger begin to creep into my voice.

  “Because,” he hesitated, his voice growing serious, “her heart’s not like yours.”
r />   “Her heart’s just fine!” I told him, wondering why he was trying to ruin such a perfect day. “You hardly even know her!”

  “Look. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you mad. I just,” he shrugged, “I just don’t think she’s the one for you, that’s all.”

  “Okay, then, smarty,” I said. “Who is the one for me?”

  “Laci.”

  “Laci?!”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Laci.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I mean Laci,” he said. “Laci’s the one for you.”

  “Laci’s just a friend.”

  “She could be more.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I love Laci, you know that. Laci’s great . . . but we’re just friends.”

  “You should ask her out some time,” he suggested. “Just see how things go.”

  “Why don’t you ask her out?” I said.

  “Because she doesn’t like me,” he answered.

  “Yes she does!”

  “No she doesn’t. Not that way.”

  “Well,” I said, “she doesn’t like me that way either.”

  He slowed the car and pulled it over to the side of the road. He turned the engine off and looked at me.

  “Yes, she does.”

  It was very, very quiet in my new car.

  Finally I spoke. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” he said, nodding his head. “I’m sure.”

  I thought for a minute, trying to digest what he was telling me.

  “What am I going to do?” I finally blurted. “I don’t want to hurt Laci . . .”

  “Then don’t . . .”

  “But I like Sam!”

  He held his hand up to his eye again, giving me the telescope signal, and then he looked at me.

  “It’s your turn to drive,” he said, and he dropped the keys into my hand.

  ~ ~ ~

  THE NEXT FEW months were . . . awkward. For over four years I’d had a crush on Sam and those feelings weren’t about to just suddenly go away – especially now that she was finally showing interest in me. Laci acted exactly the same as she always had and I realized that she didn’t know that I knew.

  I asked Sam out on an official date, and when that went well, I asked her to the prom, but what I’d told Greg was true; I didn’t want to hurt Laci. When Sam and I walked down the hall together I would drop her hand if I saw Laci coming.