The line rang three times before his brain warmed up enough to realize what a strange thing he was doing. But it was too late. A girl’s soft “hello” sounded in the earpiece just as he was pulling it away. Brad froze. His roommate, Jason, wandered in for a coke and found his friend staring at the fridge magnets with an expression of pure terror.
“Chick?” asked Jason, tossing Brad a can.
Brad’s free arm didn’t budge. The pop can hit a table leg and rolled across the linoleum.
“Man,” grunted Jason, picking it up, “you’ve gotta learn to talk to women.” “Hello?” the girl said again.
“Uhg,” said Brad.
Brad finally managed a “hi”, and even a half decent “how are you?”
Jason gave him a thumbs up from the doorway.
“Fine, thanks,” said the pretty voice. “Are you calling about the couch?”
“Um…” Brad looked over to Jason, who was cheering him on with a mime act that would make Jonny Knoxdale blush. “Yes,” said Brad, like he’d never been so sure of anything in his life.
When Brad got off the phone, he had a big smile on his face and the girl’s address in his hand. Jason hooted and punched him in the arm.
“Way to go man! That’s what I’ve been talking about,” he said. “Where’d you meet this chick? What are you gonna do?”
“Buy a couch,” said Brad, rubbing his arm.
It was Jason’s turn to be speechless. He couldn’t remember seeing Brad with a date, not once during the three semesters of grad school they’d shared the apartment.
“Brad, dude, don’t you think that’s moving a little fast?” He said, after the shock wore off. “I haven’t even met this chick! And you need the J-man stamp of approval before we start talking furniture?”
Brad’s grin spread wider. He still didn’t even know her name.
Keep checking SavingCymbria for the next installment of “The Couch”- A segmented short story