Shifting to Another Gear
by Douglas Young
part 1
A curious Roland walked to the apartment of his long-time best friend, Zoelle. All she’d said over the phone was to stop by after dinner to “talk about something I’ve been figuring on a right good spell now.” In his experience, it was rare for her not to have a clear agenda stated up front. But when he had asked what was up, she declined to say, something utterly out of character for the girl seemingly incapable of keeping a secret.
Roland and Zoelle were the friendship version of opposites attract. Having met in kindergarten, they had been in the same class in the same small town ever since. He was far more studious, having worked his way up to become the Micah Jenkins High School student newspaper editor before earning a journalism scholarship at Hiram Granbury University across town. Though still somewhat shy, Roland relished covering the news and had become much more socially assured from interviewing so many prominent local figures. Too insecure to date in high school, he blossomed in college, where he managed to secure a couple of girlfriends.
Pretty, brash and seeking romance, Zoelle first made a local name for herself at age six when she was crowned Little Miss Watermelon Patch at the town’s annual Watermelon Festival. Having neither the discipline, desire to share the spotlight, nor “team player” prerequisites to be a high school cheerleader, marching-band member or athlete, she instead revelled in the teenage social scene where her beauty, charm, and savvy enabled her to reign supreme.
“Higher education” at the local university proved to be a fun transition, with the self-proclaimed “Daddy’s girl” daughter of a prominent attorney getting her own apartment, which would be a major gathering place throughout her collegiate career. Studying just enough to avoid academic probation, college for Zoelle had been a never-ending merry-go-round of parties, clubs, dates, and beaus. Her only regrets were missed opportunities for more of the same.
Now seniors, Roland still studied journalism while Zoelle continued to major in boys and various happenings. After their impending graduation, he was set to pursue a master’s degree in Granbury’s journalism school while staying on at the campus newspaper where he was both a reporter and an editor.
Zoelle planned to travel “for at least a year,” hoping to stay with various friends and assorted admirers around the country. Whenever her parents cut off her allowance, she would think about a job or, in her words, “hopefully hook a swell catch and maybe a first-class Mrs. degree.”
Though Zoelle and Roland thoroughly enjoyed their time together and found each other attractive, they had never dated, preferring a tight sibling-like relationship between the brotherless Zoelle and sisterless Roland. Each cherished their closeness and refrained from anything that could jeopardize their oldest and most treasured friendship.
Upon knocking on her front door, Roland immediately heard Zoelle’s loud voice. “It’s unlocked, Roly.” He entered the apartment where, to his surprise, Zoelle was removing beer bottles and pizza boxes from the normally messy living room. “Have a seat, babe.” She pointed to the sofa where she sat down and smiled at him.
“So what’s so important that I had to come over ‘today’ and you wouldn’t mention over the phone,” he asked with raised eyebrows and a stifled laugh as he sat a few feet down the sofa.
“Can’t I just have an excuse to talk with my lifelong best friend?” she answered with blinking eyes and a coquettish smile while crossing her bare feet on the table in front of them.
“Except that’s not how Miss Zoey rolls,” he noted while slightly squinting his eyes at her mischievous growing grin. “No, that’s not the Zo I know,” he continued. “Queen Zoella always has an angle to achieve her master plan. It’s too bad she lacked the patience to learn chess when her ‘lifelong best friend’ offered to teach her because she could be a master at it, seeing as how she’s generally several moves ahead of everyone else. So, my spidey sense says summoning Prince Roland to discuss a topic too delicate even for the phone means you’re ready to hatch quite a scheme indeed.”
After giggling and clapping her hands, Zoelle paused and just smiled at him, biting her tongue to keep from laughing.
“Okay. I’m here,” he declared, raising his hands. “And listening. I do actually have things to do this evening since the world doesn’t completely revolve around Planet Zoelle. It is a school night, you know. Some students actually choose to study on such evenings, Zoey, and many have jobs. In other words, most of us have to engage in that most dreaded of all endeavors in Zoelleland: work.”
“All right. That’s enough. Point taken,” she said between laughs. “Apparently I’m not the only one who’s impatient.” She sighed and sought to look serious. “You know I’ve been beauless for the last few months—”
“Oh, the humanity,” he interjected. “You mean you haven’t stressed that to complain about every other day for the last two months? Should I do a story for the paper on the continuing crisis of Granbury University’s most eligible belle still without a suitor? I’m confident there’d be no shortage of exes and rivals to comment, on and off the record.”
“Why not?” she asked with her head and voice raised. “It’d be a far sight more fun and interesting than the usual boring crap y’all run. Shoot, yeah. That’s a capital idea. It’d be the most read and talked about story in that whole little paper of yours.” She giggled.
“And that would make your week, month, semester, and year, wouldn’t it?” he remarked with a sigh and a chuckle, shaking his head as she leaned her head back and laughed. “But, seriously, Zoey, I really do have some studying to do and a story to write for the morning paper—”
“All right. Whatever, Mr. ‘I’m such a fancy-pants journalist’ whose big-ass story everybody’s chomping at the bit to read.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah. I guess the campus would just have to shut down if Roly’s little article didn’t make the morning paper.”
“Ha, ha, and I’ve never called myself some ‘fancy-pants journalist,’ and you know it. Let’s cut to the lead, please.”
“Fine. As I was saying before being so rudely interrupted — no wonder you’re a reporter — I haven’t had a man in my life for a good two and a half months since I drop-kicked Jess out of my court.”
“Who I still say is a really good guy and a far sight better than most of your boyfriends,” Roland asserted, prompting her to loudly sigh, shake her head, and cross her arms. “That’s right,” he persisted. “Jess is a nice guy, actually humble and truly witty, quite a refreshing change for the beau wing of Zoelle’s central casting. I still don’t get why you dumped him.”
“Bor-ing. His idea of a good time was just plopping his skinny ass on this sofa and watching TV all night. No thanks.”
“Oh, the nightmare of a devoted boyfriend actually wanting to spend time with Her Zoelleness. Well, at least he’s not an adrenaline junkie constantly jonesing for excitement. Come on, Zo. You know he’s a good man who’s been nothing but nice to you, and dog if you don’t go and break his heart.”
“Oh, yeah. He’s a real manly guy all right, a regular macho man-bunned beta boy.” She shook her head and looked at the ceiling.
“Well, at least he ain’t pretending to be something he’s not,” Roland remarked as she dismissed his comment with a waved hand.
“That beau has left the building,” she pronounced.
“Yeah. Only because you threw him out,” he replied. “Well, if this is yet another meeting to discuss the ongoing ‘crisis’ of a dateless Zoelle—”
“Thanks for the concern, Roly. Do you know I haven’t been laid in seventy-four days?”
“Oh, the horror. Poor babe. You must be climbing the walls by now. Let’s call a press conference. Maybe you should hire a gigolo.”
“N ewsflash, Mr. Reporter. I can date and get laid anytime I want. There’s a looong line of guys who’d love to go out with me. As many as I’ve turned down, I know. But I’m not looking for just a quick lay. I want a serious, long-term relationship.”
He looked decidedly askance at her, prompting her to laugh and kick him.
“You know, as often as you’ve kicked and hit me,” he announced, “I bet I could get you slapped with an assault charge. I do know all the local cops and campus police.”
“Oh, yeah,” she snorted. “Tough guy you are.”
“You’d probably love being the star of your own trial.” He laughed, and she winked at him.
“All right. What about Benny Green?” he asked. “Yeah, that tall guy you told me you liked and who clearly has the hots for you. The few times I’ve been around him, he seemed like a fine fellow and handsome, too. He looks part Indian.”
“No, he’s a Pretendian who puts the ‘O’ in all-caps ‘OBNOXIOUS,’” she asserted. “That loser tried to get fresh with me after a party when we’d never even gone out. He’s got the morals of a mosquito.” She frowned.
“So what do you want me to do about it? Find you a good man?” he asked. “You rarely go for any of my suggestions anyway. Although you did take my advice and go out with Chilli Watts a couple of years back.”
“Oh, my dear Prince Chilli. How I did love that boy.” She suddenly smiled, put her hands to her chest, and gave an exaggerated sigh. “Such a sweetheart, and the only man to suck my toes. Whew, babe, I do believe I’m starting to feel a tad tingly.” She swooned and flapped the air. “Then the sorry bastard went off with that cheap fat whore, Martha ‘Tubs’ McTaylor, obviously ‘a glandular condition.’ He’s the only man who ever left me.” She scowled looking at the wall.
“Well, he must’ve really depleted his karmic bank account because she sure broke his heart,” Roland remarked. “Hey, I bet he’s still available and might well welcome a Zoelle reunion—”
“Never,” she stated defiantly. “The guilty must be punished. He got exactly what he deserved.”
“So much for everlasting love,” Roland observed. “Seriously, Zoelle, who meets more guys than you? With all the parties and clubbing you do, what’s the problem? Why do you need me?” He looked perplexed.
“Well, praise the Lord, Mr. Hot Shot ‘Investigative Reporter.’ You have finally stumbled upon the problem: the lack of quality men who are decent, good-looking, smart, and fun.”
“Because they’re all gay?”
“No, dummy. Which brings me to you.” She winked at him.
Furrowing his brow, he cocked his head to one side.
“You know how I’ve never had a relationship last a whole year?” she asked and shook her head.
“Yeah, so you’ve griped to me about only a hundred times,” he acknowledged, becoming more intrigued.
“Well,” she continued, “lately I’ve been concerned that, with all my failed romances and disappointing dates, if I don’t hurry up and find a bona fide really swell man soon, I might even get so cynical that I end up switching teams and become a dyke.”
“Now that would be a super story: Page One, above the fold, too,” he remarked, prompting Zoelle to laugh loudly.
“Hey, I’m sho’nuff serious about this, Ro,” she continued, ditching her smile. “Now listen real good now, ’cause this is where you come in.”
He widened his eyes, raised his eyebrows, and fought back a chuckle.
“It’s hit me at last,” she announced, “that I’ve been looking for Mr. Right all over campus and, heck, all over town and even out of town when it turns out he’s been right here the whole time. Through all my breakups and drama, who’s the one friend — guy or gal — who’s always let me cry on his shoulder and never let me down?”
Roland’s smile froze.
“Other than Daddy and my granddaddies and uncles,” she continued, “who’s the only man who ain’t kin who’s stood by me through thick and thin, and all the way back to kindergarten? In third grade when I fell on the playground, chipped a tooth, and was crying up a storm, he even took me to Mrs. McCutcheon despite the boys teasing him for holding a girl’s hand. He’s real smart and got hisself a great career ahead, too. So he’ll be a good provider to boot. He’s my oldest, dearest friend, our families adore each other, and he and I’ve already loved each other our whole lives.” She beamed at him.
Roland remained completely still but blinked several times and swallowed as Zoelle fixed him with an adoring, unblinking grin. Her apartment suddenly felt alarmingly quiet to him.
To a large extent, he felt as if his favorite entrée had just been unexpectedly put before him. His mind raced through a lifetime of happy adventures, great and small, that he and Zoelle had shared. He could not deny that he had often imagined what it would be like to shift their friendship into a romantic gear, even occasionally fantasizing about it. But he had never seriously thought of pursuing the idea, since he coveted a far more quiet, stable life than anything Zoelle would tolerate. Instead, he had much preferred being able to enter and leave Zoelleville at will, getting to enjoy its excitement, humor, and even drama without ever having to take any of it home.
“Well?” asked Zoelle. “Too shocked and overwhelmed with joy to say anything?” She chuckled with wide eyes, still staring at him. “Come on, shy boy. Speak up.” She tickled his leg with her toes as he took a deep breath and leaned back into the sofa, not knowing how to proceed.
Enormously flattered and tempted, he also feared making any rash move that could harm his most cherished friendship.
Copyright © 2025 by Douglas Young
