Headlights bounced off the trees surrounding the developing neighborhood. Signs posted up on stumps lining the gravel blueprints of roads yet to be notated no loitering. They pulled off onto a dark cul-de-sac and turned off the headlights.
"Spinning on that dizzy edge, kissed her face and kissed her head. Dreamed of all the different ways, I had to make her glow."
They talked about the differences of Freshman year versus Senior year... about friends they had in common... about the movie they just saw. Their hearts were begging for this to go well, that this could actually be categorized a date and not just another night as "friends who see movies together." She spoke of concerts with stars in her eyes and with enthusiasm she rarely allowed anyone else to see unless she'd been friends with someone for years. She's not one to let people see this uninhibited, relaxed side of her, but he's different in a way she can't place her finger on. He talks to her in a way that's respectful of her, he takes genuine interest in her and what she has to say. He makes the move to touch her hand and she can feel the heat radiate from her spine up her neck to her ears. Her fingers slip effortlessly into his and they keep talking as if nothing happened despite the awkwardness tickling on the tail edge of her voice.
"Why are you so far away, she said, why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you?"
The heat from their breath fogs the windows creating a muffled water color of darkness surrounding them. She knows this conversation between them could happen just as well in the driveway of her mother's house, and yet it's not. She slides her hand back into her possession and begins to pull it back off her neck in an effort to distract herself from the newness of the situation. He's so many years ahead of her, going to college soon, he's done all of this before she's sure. She hasn't done any of THIS before. He notices her ears are red and reaches out to stroke the lobe with his thumb. Alarmed, she jerks her hand up to grab his. She's suddenly stuck in a place where she doesn't know whether to let go of his hand or guide it... elsewhere. This is it, she thinks, this is actually happening. She leans over the gearshift and guides him to the backseat. With the heater off she is freezing and glad she decided to wear at least a sweater while out with him.
"Dancing in the deepest oceans, twisting in the water. You're just like a dream."
Their lips met awkwardly after fumbling around not knowing where hands went, where their bodies belonged. Lips met, tongues met and she pulled her head back wiping his saliva off her face wondering if this was how it was supposed to happen. Was this much "swapping of spit" natural? People like this? People continue to do this even after they drown to death or suffocate on the other person's tongue? This can't be natural. She leaned into his neck and breathed him in. Kissing him along his jawline up to the lower length of his earlobe. His hands traced the straps and latches of her bra against her sweater. She was heating up, her hair was wild, she locked eyes with him and thought THIS she can most certainly do. Her torso leaned into his, chest pressed against his neck as he kissed along her neckline with his hands all but begging to make their way through the sweater. They slip beneath the hemline and trace their way inch by inch up her back. She can feel his hands warm and rough so close to her... but also so close to the latch of her bra. Momentarily panicked and glad the sweater is snug against her, her heart bubbles up through her throat, "This is not a good idea! My mother would KILL me and my father would kill YOU if they ever knew." She just wasn't ready and she just wasn't as into it after the flood of saliva between them both. She didn't want them to not be friends and she cared for him so fiercely, she didn't want this to be how it began or simply ended. And she was good, she knew she was good, her parents knew she was good... this wasn't how her story needed to twist just yet.
"You, soft and only. You, lost and lonely. You, just like heaven."
"I respect that, let's go." His voice cut through the thickness of body heat and anticipation. She didn't understand. She thought there'd be more of a fight, that it would get awkward or she'd have to walk the 2 miles through the dark back to her home. Her embarrassment overpowered any voice she had left as she plopped back into the front seat, the clicks of their seat belt buckles were deafening. His hand reached out across the gearshift and grabbed hers. "Hey," he said, "it's ok, I get it and I respect your decision. Maybe we'll try again some time." She was still mortified but agreed. Maybe one day.
"Spinning on that dizzy edge, kissed her face and kissed her head. Dreamed of all the different ways, I had to make her glow."
They talked about the differences of Freshman year versus Senior year... about friends they had in common... about the movie they just saw. Their hearts were begging for this to go well, that this could actually be categorized a date and not just another night as "friends who see movies together." She spoke of concerts with stars in her eyes and with enthusiasm she rarely allowed anyone else to see unless she'd been friends with someone for years. She's not one to let people see this uninhibited, relaxed side of her, but he's different in a way she can't place her finger on. He talks to her in a way that's respectful of her, he takes genuine interest in her and what she has to say. He makes the move to touch her hand and she can feel the heat radiate from her spine up her neck to her ears. Her fingers slip effortlessly into his and they keep talking as if nothing happened despite the awkwardness tickling on the tail edge of her voice.
"Why are you so far away, she said, why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you?"
The heat from their breath fogs the windows creating a muffled water color of darkness surrounding them. She knows this conversation between them could happen just as well in the driveway of her mother's house, and yet it's not. She slides her hand back into her possession and begins to pull it back off her neck in an effort to distract herself from the newness of the situation. He's so many years ahead of her, going to college soon, he's done all of this before she's sure. She hasn't done any of THIS before. He notices her ears are red and reaches out to stroke the lobe with his thumb. Alarmed, she jerks her hand up to grab his. She's suddenly stuck in a place where she doesn't know whether to let go of his hand or guide it... elsewhere. This is it, she thinks, this is actually happening. She leans over the gearshift and guides him to the backseat. With the heater off she is freezing and glad she decided to wear at least a sweater while out with him.
"Dancing in the deepest oceans, twisting in the water. You're just like a dream."
Their lips met awkwardly after fumbling around not knowing where hands went, where their bodies belonged. Lips met, tongues met and she pulled her head back wiping his saliva off her face wondering if this was how it was supposed to happen. Was this much "swapping of spit" natural? People like this? People continue to do this even after they drown to death or suffocate on the other person's tongue? This can't be natural. She leaned into his neck and breathed him in. Kissing him along his jawline up to the lower length of his earlobe. His hands traced the straps and latches of her bra against her sweater. She was heating up, her hair was wild, she locked eyes with him and thought THIS she can most certainly do. Her torso leaned into his, chest pressed against his neck as he kissed along her neckline with his hands all but begging to make their way through the sweater. They slip beneath the hemline and trace their way inch by inch up her back. She can feel his hands warm and rough so close to her... but also so close to the latch of her bra. Momentarily panicked and glad the sweater is snug against her, her heart bubbles up through her throat, "This is not a good idea! My mother would KILL me and my father would kill YOU if they ever knew." She just wasn't ready and she just wasn't as into it after the flood of saliva between them both. She didn't want them to not be friends and she cared for him so fiercely, she didn't want this to be how it began or simply ended. And she was good, she knew she was good, her parents knew she was good... this wasn't how her story needed to twist just yet.
"You, soft and only. You, lost and lonely. You, just like heaven."
"I respect that, let's go." His voice cut through the thickness of body heat and anticipation. She didn't understand. She thought there'd be more of a fight, that it would get awkward or she'd have to walk the 2 miles through the dark back to her home. Her embarrassment overpowered any voice she had left as she plopped back into the front seat, the clicks of their seat belt buckles were deafening. His hand reached out across the gearshift and grabbed hers. "Hey," he said, "it's ok, I get it and I respect your decision. Maybe we'll try again some time." She was still mortified but agreed. Maybe one day.
Oof😁😍
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