My crush - well I had a few - but my main crush was the Captain, Brett Parobek. He was absolutely gorgeous, an amazing athlete, cool and really... kind of a bad ass. I, on the other hand, was none of those things. I was awkward, nonathletic, shy, and studious... so not very cool at all. I didn't have a chance with Brett, so I wasn't even going to try to approach him - even when my cool older brother let me tag along with him to parties where the football boys were going to be.
As we went through our junior and senior year of high school, some of my girlfriends started dating some of the Berea football boys. When there were parties, I would tag along, and became friends with quite a few. Brett, however, I was still too intimidated to approach.
Before I left for college, there was one last summer party one of Brett's best friends was throwing. Everyone would be there, and I still even remember what I was wearing: tight jeans, black sparkle flip flops, and a tight black V-neck t-shirt. I remember sitting with my girlfriends at a picnic table, and Brett approached with another girl close by him. My heart sunk because I figured that this was his beautiful girlfriend. He introduced himself to us and started to chat with my best friend. I quickly shoved the idea that he might be interested in me out of my head, and no longer nervous, asked him how long he and his girlfriend had been together. They both started laughing, "No, we're twins - this is my sister, Elizabeth." I remember blurting out, "Oh! I love twins!" and mentally slapped myself across the forehead for how stupid of a thing that was to say. They walked away to meet with other friends. Damnit.
Having thought I embarrassed myself in front of my absolute crush after meeting him for the very first time, I drank a few more beers. At that time in my life, my girls and I called beer, 'courage in a bottle,' because it made cute boys less intimidating to flirt with. Well, after a few beers, I was feeling particularly courageous. I went inside the house looking for Brett and found him upstairs alone. Without hesitation, I walked right up to him and kissed him! Right?! Can you believe that? And he definitely kissed me back - until his friend walked upstairs and saw us - then I was off! I ran downstairs, now confused and slightly embarrassed, but giggly. I grabbed the girls and we left, and I remember looking back beaming. I was very proud of myself. I would not see any of the Berea boys again for years.
FAST FORWARD
It's 2007, and I'm a college graduate back in Berea to live with my folks until I can find a job and figure out how to rent an apartment. My girls and I are still in touch - in fact a few of us went to college together, and came back to Berea together. We go out to celebrate being home and run into the Berea boys -- er, now Berea men I suppose.
College had taught me a lot of things, and confidence was definitely one. When I saw Brett ordering a drink at the bar, I did not hesitate to walk up to him.
I said, "I bet you don't remember me."
He said, "I remember you."
"Oh, well good!" I smiled widely at him and said, "You should take me out some time."
He just shrugged his shoulders as if to dismiss the idea. (Gasp - what an ass, right?!)
"Well, you should at least take my number." I retorted.
"Maybe you should take my number." He said without hesitation. (What?! Are you serious?)
"Umm... I'm the lady, you should take my number." (I was actually getting pissed).
His twin was also there at the bar, and decides that this is a good time to walk over. She asks us what we were doing, and I explain to her that her dick brother won't take my number, and insists I take his number and call him. "Why don't you play rock, paper, scissors?" was her suggestion. (What, are we 12?!).
Alright, fine. We play, I lose, I take his number.
I wait until the next weekend to call him. He doesn't answer, and I leave a message, and I'm crushed.
ALL THE WHILE
Brett stares at his phone before he calls the missed number back. He had been waiting for me to call because since his friends' party four years before, he had not forgotten about that cute, crazy girl who kissed him out of nowhere. He had played coy at the bar, but was actually just - well - nervous (and let's be honest - probably at the bar to drink and not to be hit on by crazy girls). He calls, and also gets voicemail, and doesn't leave a message.
He has his mom & aunt call to listen to, "Hello this is Patricia Price, I am not available right now, but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you!"
"Oh Brett, you should call her back - she sounds like a good one."
He calls back, and leaves a message, "Hi Patty, it's Brett Parobek - give me a call back."
THE REST IS HISTORY
Never in my wildest dreams did I think when I was a teenager that the boy I was head-over-heels for, watching almost every Friday night from the stands, would end up being my husband of now almost four years (after being together for nearly eight). But sometimes the girl does get her dream guy, and that's why our story is a Great one.
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