WWDGD? (What would David Gring do?)

Toasted Thermal Heartbreak – Chloe Fox

Shea Baker

Before David Gring, boys were a predacious species I was afraid of. My once positive outlook of men shattered at the thought of the boys in my 8th-grade class. My grade consisted of typical immature jerks who found pleasure in mocking girls in avoidance of being perceived as a “simp.” These boys made me slowly and reluctantly lower my standards, making me normalize their douchebag behavior. That was until David Gring. 

  My sister Ashley started dating David during her senior year of high school. Although I was delighted my sister sparked an interest in a boy for the first time, I did not want her to get a boyfriend. After all, we had limited time living under the same roof, and David threatened Ashley’s and my precious quality time together before she left for college. This was a big deal to me. Despite our four-year age difference, Ashley and I are ridiculously close. The thought of Ashley leaving for college already upset me, as I feared it would tear our relationship apart. So, you can only imagine how thrilled I was about sharing her for the next eight months. 

  David, the first boyfriend introduced into the family, needed the approval of my brother, George, and my father. Thankfully for me, impressing my father is virtually impossible. Like many fathers, he holds expectations about boyfriends and their actions towards his three daughters. George, being in the grade below David, did not pose a major threat as an underclassman but still outwardly voiced his protectiveness over his older sister. Ashley valued both of their opinions when bringing David to our house for introduction and approval.

In preparation for David’s arrival, I contemplated all the possible outcomes. What if he refers to my father as Brian instead of Mr. Baker? Or doesnt shake his hand? Or maybe he will act like a stereotypical Ravenscroft asshole who thinks he owns the place. I heard the front door creak open and immediately hid behind my couch as “The Downfall of David Gring” commenced. But it wasn’t a downfall; he nailed everything. A firm handshake with my father, check. Such a handshake delivered with a sustained look directly in the eyes? Check. Warmly hugged my mother and gifted her flowers? Check and check. What the hell? Why is he doing everything perfectly? Little did I know, David dealt with his own handful of Ravenscroft douchebags as his older sister Katherine dated them. David learned from the mistakes made by the careless boys who dated his sister and used them to his advantage. As Ashley and David fled the kitchen, my parents reiterated how impressed they were. But I wouldn’t let him fool me; this could all be a facade. David Gring was going down. 

Being the annoying yet determined younger sister, I didn’t let David’s successful first impression stop me. I didn’t want another roadblock in the way of making memories with Ashley, an already occupied high school student. My plan was quite simple: annoy the hell out of David until he broke up with my sister. Disrupting their time together challenged David’s relationship with Ashley, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

The next time David came over, I stealthily approached the doorway to our bonus room and patiently waited for the perfect opportunity before bursting in. At some point, I expected David to find the disruptions intolerable and break up with Ashley. But, to my surprise, David never turned me away or kicked me out. He asked about school and what I had been up to that day while sporadically throwing in his sarcastic jokes. He thinks this is funny, eh? Just wait, David, I am going to make your relationship with Ashley a living hell. But he didn’t mind my presence; he simply welcomed me in. 

Around my 15th birthday, I had trouble with friend groups at school, fell into extremely bad habits, and started making several careless decisions. Typically, my mom or sisters gave me advice as they dealt with being a high school girl before. But I was sick of hearing ¨This too shall pass¨ from my mom; I needed real advice. So, I confided in Ashley, who coincidentally was with David most of the time. I didn’t mind David hearing intimate details about my life and, quite frankly, never thought he cared. That was until my 15th birthday. David gifted me a Vanderbilt (the college he attends) shirt and wrote me a letter. This letter changed my whole perspective of David.

First and foremost, the letter was handwritten. My mom always ingrained in me that handwritten notes make an exceptional impression. Her reasoning was that handwritten notes exert more energy than sending a friendly text, and she was right. In his letter, David offered his unsolicited advice on navigating the upper school, a new yet scary place I had entered a few months prior. He related to my situation and insisted that I texted him whenever I needed a third party’s opinion. Although I found his gesture kind, I doubted his relatability with superficial, mean girls. But as the year went on, I found myself asking him for more and more advice. David was right; he could relate. And we surprisingly had a lot in common. His thoughtful letter pivoted our relationship: David slowly transformed from my arch nemesis and competitor for Ashley’s time and affection into a reliable and trustworthy friend.

For David and Ashley’s two-year anniversary, David texted me requesting my assistance in preparing Ashley’s gift. He had plotted an elaborate surprise for Ashley involving a customized painting easel. His creative idea was not only functional but super thoughtful. For some context, Ashley had a challenging first year at college and dealt with severe homesickness, feeding her anxious tendencies. Sitting on the beach and painting was the only activity that shifted her mind off missing home. This gift allowed for convenient art therapy, equipping her with paint supplies whenever she had a rough patch. 

That day, David and I ventured to Walgreens, printing out several photos that summarized the evolution of their relationship. After picking up the images, David insisted on getting Ashley flowers. As we were driving, I questioned David’s directional awareness.

 “David, why don’t we get flowers from Harris Teeter across the street?” I asked.

“I want to pick them from the garden in my backyard. I know what she likes,” David explained.

  David’s attention to detail struck me that day. The intentionality in hand-picking flowers from his backyard touched my heart, as he knew exactly what flowers and colors Ashley liked. We spent the rest of the day in Ashley’s room painting a canvas that said “Happy Two Years, Ashley!” in big bubble layers and covering the easel with photos. David and I took four hours perfecting the gift, laughing at the photos of Ashley and our terrible artistic skills while catching up on life. That was a good day.

That night, I sat hidden in her room, phone in hand, and captured the surprise moment on camera for David (who had work that night). David put endless thought into this gift without expecting any credit or boyfriend points. His selflessness spoke volumes about his character. He did not go above and beyond for praise or a reward; he did it because he cared. 

Now, three years into their relationship, I don’t burst into the bonus room plotting their break up. I gently open the door, greet David (usually before Ashley, might I add), and ask him how he’s doing. I text him regularly about teachers who ask if he’s still dating my sister, and we laugh about stupid high school drama. He lets himself in through the front door and greets my parents the exact same way he did upon his first arrival. 

 But every time I invite a boy over to my house, my stomach drops at the thought of my family comparing them to David. Did he nail meeting the parents like David? Is he observant and considerate? Does he interact with and include my siblings? 

David is the blueprint. Anything less than David is utterly unacceptable. And even if David and Ashley part ways one day, he won’t be the boy my sister dated; he will be the man who raised my standards back to their original state. To this day, Ashley, David, and I share laughs about my elaborate plan to sabotage their relationship. Who would have guessed the boy I feared might tear my sister and me apart, ultimately brought us closer together? Without knowing it, these minute yet powerful interactions with David slowly restored my faith in men. My standards that once seemed unrealistic aren’t anymore. David not only restored the bar for men in my life to live up to, but he also unknowingly raised it.