green peel that had piled up in curls. “I haven’t the foggiest idea.”
“The once lazy boy turns into a bored boy. The chase is over, and they’re ready to move on.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“As a matter of fact, what I hear most boys say is the girl became ‘needy.’”
“Needy? Well, I’m certainly not that.”
“I know you’re not. And not only are you not needy, what you are is special, and Bob or any other boy needs to treat you like you are. If they don’t, kick ‘em to the curb.”
As weird as it all sounded, she was actually making complete sense. I started peeling again.
“When I was in high school, I wasn’t allowed to call boys. My mother always told me that if a boy wanted to talk to me, he’d call. Now at the time, I thought it was the stupidest thing I’d ever heard, but now I look back and think she was a genius.”
“So you never called a boy?”
“Never. Not even if the boy was my boyfriend.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. It gets better. One of my dad’s rules was that I wasn’t allowed to go out with a boy unless he asked me at least the Thursday before the weekend.”
The cucumber slipped out of my hand and onto the floor. Quickly glancing over my shoulder, I made sure she didn’t notice, picked it up off the floor, wiped it on my jeans, and started cutting it into chunks.
She was none the wiser and kept right on talking. “It sounds crazy. But his point was that if a boy wanted to go out with me enough, he’d plan in advance to do it; and if he waited until the last minute, then I probably wasn’t his first choice. He was a guy, so I figured he’d know.”
“So what did you do if a guy asked you out on Friday morning?”
“I told him no or told him that if he wanted to spend time with me, he could come hang out at my house with me and my parents.”
“And what did they do?”
“If they really liked me, right then and there they would ask me to go out the next weekend. A few, including Pops, even came over and hung out with my family.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Some of them thought it was stupid and never asked me out again, which was fine by me because I figured if they weren’t willing to do that for me, they weren’t worth my time. But the good ones caught on and followed the rule. If they wanted to go out with me, they asked me early in the week.”
All I could do was nod at her brilliance.
“Look, Bob loves you. And I’m not telling you to mess with his head or play games or anything. All I’m suggesting is that you put systems in place that require him to make you the priority you should rightfully be. I also believe that you tell them what your expectations are.”
“I’m in.” I threw the cucumbers into the salad and reached for the box of croutons. “So what do I do—or not do?”
“Don’t call him or text him first—ever.”
“Ever?”
“Ever. He needs to have the chance to miss you, and if you’re in constant contact with him, he’ll never get to that point. So no matter how much you want to talk to him, wait and let him contact you.”
“That sounds painful.”
“Trust me. If a boy really likes a girl and he knows that she isn’t gonna be calling him, he’s gonna be picking up that phone and making contact.”
“Okay, I won’t call or text Bob first. What next?”
“Tell him that if he wants to go out with you on the weekend, he needs to make sure to ask you before Thursday. Otherwise, you’ll be making other plans.”
“What else?”
“At least one weekend a month, make plans to be apart. Neither one of you should be so into each other that you can’t hang out with your friends every once in a while when the other one isn’t around.”
“Fair enough.”
“In order for a relationship to be healthy, it needs to be respected. You and Bob are very special people, and you should treat each other that way. You probably need to ask him if he has any requests he’d
“The once lazy boy turns into a bored boy. The chase is over, and they’re ready to move on.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“As a matter of fact, what I hear most boys say is the girl became ‘needy.’”
“Needy? Well, I’m certainly not that.”
“I know you’re not. And not only are you not needy, what you are is special, and Bob or any other boy needs to treat you like you are. If they don’t, kick ‘em to the curb.”
As weird as it all sounded, she was actually making complete sense. I started peeling again.
“When I was in high school, I wasn’t allowed to call boys. My mother always told me that if a boy wanted to talk to me, he’d call. Now at the time, I thought it was the stupidest thing I’d ever heard, but now I look back and think she was a genius.”
“So you never called a boy?”
“Never. Not even if the boy was my boyfriend.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. It gets better. One of my dad’s rules was that I wasn’t allowed to go out with a boy unless he asked me at least the Thursday before the weekend.”
The cucumber slipped out of my hand and onto the floor. Quickly glancing over my shoulder, I made sure she didn’t notice, picked it up off the floor, wiped it on my jeans, and started cutting it into chunks.
She was none the wiser and kept right on talking. “It sounds crazy. But his point was that if a boy wanted to go out with me enough, he’d plan in advance to do it; and if he waited until the last minute, then I probably wasn’t his first choice. He was a guy, so I figured he’d know.”
“So what did you do if a guy asked you out on Friday morning?”
“I told him no or told him that if he wanted to spend time with me, he could come hang out at my house with me and my parents.”
“And what did they do?”
“If they really liked me, right then and there they would ask me to go out the next weekend. A few, including Pops, even came over and hung out with my family.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Some of them thought it was stupid and never asked me out again, which was fine by me because I figured if they weren’t willing to do that for me, they weren’t worth my time. But the good ones caught on and followed the rule. If they wanted to go out with me, they asked me early in the week.”
All I could do was nod at her brilliance.
“Look, Bob loves you. And I’m not telling you to mess with his head or play games or anything. All I’m suggesting is that you put systems in place that require him to make you the priority you should rightfully be. I also believe that you tell them what your expectations are.”
“I’m in.” I threw the cucumbers into the salad and reached for the box of croutons. “So what do I do—or not do?”
“Don’t call him or text him first—ever.”
“Ever?”
“Ever. He needs to have the chance to miss you, and if you’re in constant contact with him, he’ll never get to that point. So no matter how much you want to talk to him, wait and let him contact you.”
“That sounds painful.”
“Trust me. If a boy really likes a girl and he knows that she isn’t gonna be calling him, he’s gonna be picking up that phone and making contact.”
“Okay, I won’t call or text Bob first. What next?”
“Tell him that if he wants to go out with you on the weekend, he needs to make sure to ask you before Thursday. Otherwise, you’ll be making other plans.”
“What else?”
“At least one weekend a month, make plans to be apart. Neither one of you should be so into each other that you can’t hang out with your friends every once in a while when the other one isn’t around.”
“Fair enough.”
“In order for a relationship to be healthy, it needs to be respected. You and Bob are very special people, and you should treat each other that way. You probably need to ask him if he has any requests he’d
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