YEAH. I MADE OUT WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND. WHAT. (part one)
The wind was blowing through my hair as we drove to my mom’s house at what seemed to be a not-ridiculous hour of night. Something like…1 am. But the area of town we were driving through lacked street lights for quite a stretch of asphalt, making it darker. The air was not sticky, as it usually is during summer, but instead had a certain briskness about it. It wasn’t cold. It wasn’t hot. It wasn’t dry. It wasn’t humid. It was…well, if I had to say what it was, without sounding too cliche, I would say perfect.
The cab of the truck seemed tiny. And while I had been in it with you many times before, it felt different this time. I recalled the night we sat outside of Starbucks after a night of studying precalculus, and drinking free triple-filtered water. We only held hands that night. And I kissed you on the cheek. It was a strange evening. A beginning to a romance that never quite got the chance to live. Dead on arrival. Or something along those lines. I flashed back to the drive. Dark. Perfect. Close.
We arrive at my house, and you have a look of despair in your eyes. Impending tears glisten in the faint light that exuded from my driveway. We talked for hours. I hold you close as you cried, leaving dark spots on my cornflower blue shirt. I am your best friend in that moment, and tears befall my cheeks when I saw how she had affected you. You held my hand for comfort, yet soon our fingers interlaced like we were in love. I wanted you to be happy.
And then our noses bump. Eskimo kisses. Nose rub rub rub. Smile. Lips part. And then we kiss. And it is like every story you ever hear about every perfect kiss. So beautiful that you can’t help but smile as your lips meet again and again. And of course, the teenage groping comes into play and the moment changes from sweet and beautiful to should-I-keep-my-shirt-on-or-risk-getting-caught-in-my-bra-making-out-in-front-of-my-house-at-four-in-the-morning? and then I pull away.
We shouldn’t be doing this. I have a boyfriend and he’s your friend. And with our hands still interlocked, you kiss my fingers. I know I know. And then suddenly our lips are meeting once more, pushed together by pure magnetism. And you pull away next, Oh we can’t. We can’t. And then I put my head in my hands as you hold me and I realize what has happened. Oh screaming infidelity. And at this age, when none of you are having sex, everything is infidelity. You rub my shoulders. Are you okay? I crinkle my nose. I love you. I walk inside.
bzzz bzzz.
Be happy. It will all work out. I love you pal.
And then it was done.
6 months ago • 0 notes