Holding Up the Universe

by Jennifer Niven

“Jack?” “What you’ve just heard is the sound of my heart dying a swift and sudden death.” “Hypothetically speaking, if—and I’m not saying I do—but if I was to like you, what would you want to do about it?” “I would probably want to hold your hand.” “Probably?” “Hypothetically, yes. I would definitely hypothetically want to hold your hand.” “Well then, I would probably hypothetically hold yours back.” “I would also hypothetically want to take you to a movie, even though I don’t like movies as a rule because of the whole facial confusion situation.” “Which one?” “Which movie?” “I need to know if it’s something I want to see.” “Won’t it be enough just to be with me, holding hypothetical hands in the dark?” “I’d at least like to know what kind of movie we’d be seeing.” “Uh. I think it would need to be a movie with some of everything. Comedy. Drama. Action. Mystery. Romance.” “That sounds like a really good movie.” “So would you hold my hand during it?” “Probably.” “Okay. I’ll take ‘probably’ for now. I’d also want to take you out to dinner, either before or after the movie, depending, and I would absolutely want to walk you to your door.” “What if I wanted to dance to my door instead?” “Then I’m your man.” Are you? Is this what this means? My heart goes hopscotching out of the room and down the hall and out the door and into the street. “But after I danced you to the door, I’d want to kiss you.” “You would?” “I would.” And now my heart is nowhere on earth to be found. I can se...

*exhales through nose*