On an Edge of Glass

trying to solve a difficult problem.
    “Mark?”  I ’m beyond frustrated with his silence.
    “I’m thinking,” he says finally.  As if that’s enough of an answer. 
    Mark pushes his blond hair back and rolls his neck.  He pops a green gummy bear in his mouth.
    “Can you think faster?  I’m getting old over here.”
    We’re sitting on top of our favorite wooden picnic table in the Quad, which is an open space on campus nestled between a cluster of brick classroom buildings and the Student Union.  In the early fall and spring, it’s packed with picnickers and students playing Frisbee, or studying under the shade of one the trees that border the south side. 
    T oday it’s fairly quiet.  Only one other table is occupied.  The tree limbs are barren and the grass is on the brink of brown and crunchy.  I figure by Halloween next week I’ll be in a scarf and hat until March. 
    But right now , with the sun glowing in the sky like a sunny-side up egg, our faces still get warmed if we position ourselves just right.  That’s what Mark and I are doing after our last class of the day—sunning like a pair of seals on the beach and gossiping about boys.  Our feet dangle over the edge of the tabletop.  There’s a half-eaten box of gummy bears between us.  Our bags and laptops are parked below on the bench seat.   
    “It’s not like I’m surprised Ellie.  I could see this one coming from a mile away.  I did warn you if you remember correctly.”  His voice drips with the implied I-told-you-so. 
    God.  He can be such a diva sometimes.  I tell him this and he laughs.
    “Look, Mark, I understand that I’m an idiot, but as my bestest friend in the universe can you focus on how I should proceed from here?  Do I just act like nothing happened with Ben?” 
    He raises one eyebrow at me.  “Is that even possible?”
    “I don’t know!”  I let my head fall to his shoulder.  “Tell me what to do, Oh Wise One.”
    Mark smirks and takes another gummy bear from the box.  “That depends on how you want this to play out Ellie-bear.  You keep saying that what happened with Ben is no big deal.  You’re shrugging your shoulders cryptically and trying to act nonchalant about the whole thing.  But at the same time, you’re calling me at the ass-crack of the morning to obsess over him.”
    “I think the term obsess is a little much.”
    Mark ignores me and continues.  “A nd you can deny it all you want, but something in you has changed.”  He pauses and gives me a brief once-over.  “You’re less stressed about school and the LSAT.  I haven’t heard you mention it in days…”
    He’s right.  I haven’t studied since last Thursday.  And I planned to have the first draft of my essay for Columbia done by tomorrow but so far I only have the opening paragraph written. 
    “Arggghhhh!”   All of the pieces are starting to stick together.  I swallow them down.  “You’re right.  I cannot believe I let this guy get so far under my skin.  How stupid am I?”
    “Don’t beat yourself up.”  Mark pats my hand.  “It happens.”
    “Does it?”  I croak out.
    “Well, maybe not to you, but to the majority of the world.  And it’s good for you.”
    “What’s good for me ?  Having a crush?”
    Mark turns his head so that he’s looking directly a t me.  “No.  Crushes are for fourteen year olds.  Ellie, I would describe what’s happening to you as falling .”
    “Falling,” I say softly, letting the word sink in.  “So, how do I get back up?”
    “Maybe you don’t.” 
    “ That’s not an answer.”
    Mark clears his throat.  “All I know is that I’ve never seen you like this over a boy.”
    This i s the problem with having a perceptive best friend.  Sometimes they know what you’re thinking before you know it yourself.  Mark is right.  I am thrown by Ben.  I’m losing sleep over this guy, and letting my mind dwell on him when I should be worrying about the LSAT, and my admission essay, and the summer internship in New York that I want. 
    I chew vigorously on a red gummy bear.  “You’re right.”
    Mark smiles glibly.  “Of course I am.”  He moves so that he’s sitting up and he flicks me an expectant look.  “So you’re going to talk to him tonight, right?  If I were you, I’d just ask him about the evil bitch of an ex and tell him how you feel.  Put it all out there and let the rest of the world go to hell.  That’s my