Thursday, January 26, 2012

All Words, No Action

            As it would turn out, instead, I brought my friend Charlyze to that poetry read. And, like most of the friends I had brought to those reads in the year that I had been going to, it would only be once that I brought her with me. I was blushing the moment I walked into the coffee shop. Maybe it was just my young girly habits of being anxious whenever I was meeting with a guy I really liked who was finally showing some type of interest in me. Maybe it was because I had promised Ruben I would tell him what kind of panties I was wearing when I got there. Whatever the reason, my cheeks were a bright cherry red before I Ruben even stood up to hug me and say hello to my friend.
            As it would also turn out, I would not tell him anything about my panties or otherwise that night. We were somewhat friendly with each other but we didn’t start talking to each other much until after the other poets and such had left. Ruben and I stood outside with Charlyze and talked about sex and what have you. I recall him saying as the other poets were leaving that he was going to wait outside with me until my mother got there.
            “I don’t want to leave you here to get raped and killed.” He said. I told him that he wasn’t my babysitter, and that I wasn’t going to get “raped and killed” to which he replied, “Fine. Killed and raped, is that a better combination for you?”
            We stood around and laughed after everyone left. We talked about sex and all of that, but for the most part, we listened to Charlyze talk about her feelings on relationships and such. I don’t think she realized she was stealing what attention she knew was supposed to have been on me. When I say this, I’m not meaning I wanted to have everything centered on me. I simply mean that I had meant to be the one talking to Ruben and she was interrupting me every time I tried to get a word in edgewise.
            At one point, I remember Ruben looking at me and asking how I felt about all this rubbish on the subject. I simply told him what I had once heard my chemistry teacher say. “Well, if both parties are willing and I know what I’m getting out of it, I don’t mind.” I sort of laughed. “I mean, as long as the guy establishes what’s going on, it shouldn’t be a big deal. All I need is to know whether there’s something going on or it’s completely casual.”
            “Well, I have established exactly what’s going on.”
            When he said this, I sort of blushed and giggled a bit. And it was right then, leaning against his car and giggling that he told me I was cute. Well, his exact words were, “you know, you have the cutest dimples. Did you know that?”
            And then, right as I was looking up at him in the way that a girl looks at a guy with that face that says she wants to kiss him, my mother arrived. I gave Ruben a quick hug, taking a moment to press my cheek against his and feel at least a little bit of the warmth of his skin, and I left.
            Now, I realize that whatever readers I may have are probably a little disappointed at how short this post is, and how uneventful it was. To be perfectly honest, it almost makes me smile to think back on this particular moment. Dearest Lili (or Kidd as my profile identifies me), was it then that you were in love? Maybe.

1 comment:

  1. That's exactly what I took from it. It made my heart flutter to think of the feeling of pressing your cheek to the person you love's.