Saturday, April 14, 2012

D+T=(yo)U, Part 2

Time had stopped.  She became aware of this the moment she kept her breath from audibly sucking in too quickly as his hand accidentally brushed against hers.  Dear God, how long had they been sitting there in her old Chevy Corsica with the windows down and the CD on repeat?  Did it matter?  All that mattered was that it didn't end.  She didn't want this moment to leave itself and come back as something she had imagined or concocted in this love-struck mind of hers.
"No...not love." she thought to herself as she laughed at his comment about the old men playing slow-pitch softball on the diamond in front of them.  Well, she tried to laugh anyways.  She half feared that it was a giggle, and she couldn't really have herself giggling like a school-girl right now.  She had promised herself when she left for college that there would be no more school-girl giggling.  Giggling was for desperate girls.  It would take her years to realize that she was wired to giggle.  That people actually liked her giggle.  That even her tough middle-aged father giggled.
She gave out another hardy chuckle and then sucked it back, afraid it was too much.  How do people do this anyways?
He was so beautiful.
Not beautiful in the "buff guy you notice the first day of school and pray every night to God that he will ask you out" sort of way, but in the "we've been friends for so long and I'm just now starting to realize you're gorgeous and lovely and I want to have your babies" sort of way.
Whoa.  Did she really just think that?  She blushes even though his conversation has moved on to his parents' farm back in Illinois and she knows he can't read her thoughts.  Dear God, please don't let him secretly be a mind reader.  Her face turns just a shade more crimson than it already was.  He has no idea.
He's so perfectly clueless.
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out some gum.
"You want some?" she asks.  What a stupid question.  He's going to totally think you want to kiss him.  Look at him.  Of course you don't want to kiss him, you think as you glance at his tan hand reaching for the CD player.
Okay.  Maybe you do, but not now, you're not ready.
"Sure."  He reaches for the pack.
She smiles at her hands.  "He totally wants to kiss me and marry me, and live happily ever after," she thinks - suddenly confident that it won't be today, or tomorrow, but soon, and at the perfect moment.

Part One

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five