#david lindstrom

"Gods sake Sigurd, either walk over there and say hi or get on with life." Hvitserk mumbled around a mouthful of sandwich.

It was the same story, every Tuesday afternoon, they would walk into The Earl and Sigurd would begin to act as if he forgot how to function upon basic human interactions. At first Hvitserk dismissed his younger brother's behaviour, up until three months ago, when he discovered the reason for it.

Sigurd would order the same thing every week, a roast beef on rye, hot mustard, no pickle, and extra sauerkraut. Each week the same waitress would walk by, toss out a friendly "Hello" and go on about her day.

"You can't just walk over to a girl and say hello." Sigurd tried to reason, watching as Hvitserk destroyed his turkey and bacon on wheat. His brother ate like an animal.

Sitting back, Hvitserk wiped his mouth - Sigurd was shocked to see him use the napkin and not his sleeve - licking his lips he stifled a chuckle. "Then how do you meet people?"

"It's not like that with women. Okay. They like originality and...well they like a guy who is clever." Sigurd shrugged, picking at the corner of his half eaten sandwich.

"You sound like Ubbe." Hvitserk rolled his eyes at the thought of how his older brother approached women. "Women like a guy who can be confident. Who can be bold. Someone who isn't afraid to take what he wants."

It was Sigurd's turn to roll his eyes. "She's a human being, not a country."

Picking up his mangled sandwich, Hvitserk sighed. "You sit in here every week and watch her. It's beginning to get creepy. Talk to her, or I'm going to ask her out."

"I don't need you picking my dates."

"Good, because I wasn't going to ask her for you." a devilish grin turned the corners of Hvitserk's smile.

Frowning, Sigurd tried his best to ignore the smugness that was radiating off of his older brother. Hvitserk was such a pain in the ass.

Watching as the waitress met a customer at the register, Sigurd's annoyance melted. How did Hvitserk expect him to talk to her, anyway? She was far out of his league and the second Sigurd walked over, she'd probably laugh in his face.

No, if she was as kind as she was pretty, there was no way she'd leave Sigurd with a shade of embarrassment on his face.

She had to be the prettiest girl that Sigurd had ever laid eyes on. He had never spoken to her directly, but he had heard her voice enough to know that it sounded like a soft summer breeze on a meadow. Her eyes were a deep, rich and vibrant colour that bore through you, when you looked in your direction.

How could he be so wrapped up, when he barely knew her name? And how would she feel to know that the dork who came in every Tuesday was secretly in love with her?

"Dude, if you don't go over there before we leave, I'm taking her out on Saturday." Hvitserk's voice interjected his thoughts.

"Fuck off." Sigurd mumbled turning back to throw a glare at Hvitserk.

"No way, I'm serious." Hvitserk pushed his chair back from the table, a rare sight. "I'm going over there and asking her out."

"Fine!" Sigurd hissed, his anger brewing. "I'll do it, but you need to leave first."

"Why?" Hvitserk dug some cash from his wallet.

"Because, if she rejects me, I don't want you telling Ivar." Sigurd scowled. The last thing he wanted, ever, was for Ivar to know he had been rejected by a pretty girl. The opposite sex adored his baby brother, despite his tendency to be a dick. If he heard that Sigurd was turned down it would lead to a life of tormenting.

Mumbling about his brothers and their stupid competitive nature, Hvitserk grabbed his coat and made for the door. Alone at last, Sigurd gathered the handful of cash that Hvitserk had dumped, along with a little bit of courage, before making his way over to the register.

There she was, an angel on earth. A Valkyrie in her own right. An absolute Goddess and a vision. Sigurd swallowed the lump forming in his throat with each step. Sweaty palms and a growing need for a gasp of air, he held himself together.

Outside, Hvitserk peered through the glass door. His nose practically pressed and leaving smudges, while he watched and waited for Sigurd's fate to be dictated. So far everything looked good, Sigurd was on his feet and upright at least. A customer inside moved and blocked Hvitserk's final view, frowning he stepped away from the door and waited for his brother.

“So?” Hvitserk asked the second Sigurd opened the door to step out. Eagerly he bounced on his feet. “What did she say? Did you ask? Do I need to go get myself a date?”

“Come on.” Sigurd grabbed Hvitserk's arm, yanking him away from The Earl. Striding as fast as he could down the block.

“Hey, wait.” Hvitserk pulled his jacket free from Sigurd's clutches. “Was it that bad?”

“Bad?” Sigurd echoed, standing frozen on the spot. “Are you kidding?”

“Man, I'm sorry. Come on, we'll go find some other girl to cheer you up. She looked like a bitch anyway.” Hvitserk slung his arm around Sigurd.

“Wait, Hvit, let me finish. It wasn't bad, in fact it went pretty well. We have a date tomorrow night.” Sigurd clarified.

“Then why the rush?”

“Because, man, I couldn't let her see me do this...” Sigurd punched the air, throwing his hands around and wiggling his legs in what had to be the worst victory dance Hvitserk had witnessed. Shouting and running in a celebratory circle, Sigurd whooped and came to a stand still. “Now all I have to do is learn how to skate.”