The Improbable Theory of Ana and Zak

And maybe I know a girl who’s headed for more than community college and a tech department job. Maybe I want to show her, I can make plans too.

“What the hell happened to your face, Duke?” asks the stranger.
“Poor genetics.”

he bites her lower lip and ducks her head, while still looking up at me shyly. She’s utterly cute. I wish I could tell her that. I wish I could tell her that I think she’s amazing. I wish I could run my fingers through that forest of frizzy dark hair. I wish I could kiss her again.

“Then, by the power vested in me by whatever gods are tuned in, I now pronounce you married!”

“So nice when people can make a mixed marriage work,” I whisper.
“Is one of them Jewish?”
“No, but John’s a Star Trek fan and Mark likes Star Wars . . .”

“She’s out of my league. I don’t predict much luck on that front.”
Arnold continues to pack up his equipment. “Yeah, well, they said we’d have moon cities by 1990. And no one predicted the internet or digital cameras. Sometimes the best guesses turn out wrong, and the most improbable theories come to pass.”

I’m starting to not dislike Zak Duquette. I’m actually starting to really not dislike him.

The gray fades to black. I’m going to die.
I knew the risks. All part of being on the quiz bowl team. Not everyone makes it back alive.

“All you need are some leggings and a Bavarian cap, and you’ll look like one of us.”
“Yes, before you know it, I’ll stop bathing and everything.”

Aside from my handsome face, of course. I’m glad I decided to grow out my beard this year.