Now
there, I've been caught lying and repented now I will go back to the
story now. After we finished up at the courthouse, where the prom was
being held, all done crying over dead peers and dancing a little we
headed back to a friend's house; or more accurately a friend of a
friend's house. At that time he had the fanciest house I had ever
seen, by today's standards it's pretty average, anyway we were there
under the pretense of watching a movie. When we got there my date and
I changed back into more casual clothing and I sat close to her on
the couch hoping we would get into some hand holding or something
more. Other couples were engaging in various stages of cuddling and
kissing and heading off to more private venues. I was starting to get
pretty jealous when our host and his date, a very cute girl, headed
back to his bedroom for some mutual respect. . .probably. After a
couple of hours the movie wrapped up and we decided it was time to go
home so I drove my date the whole doing that junior high kind of
thing where I put my hand on the seat in between us hoping that she
would meet me half way and hold it. I had been pretty exclusive with
her, hanging out every night, doing stuff, and going on several
dates, for about two months which to my young still forming mind
seem like an eternity. I was more used to getting right down to
business on day one, or date two, or in extreme situations date
three. She had been a harder nut to crack. We pulled up in my little
white truck in front of her house and I turned off the engine. I
unbuckled my seat belt and turned towards her and asked if she wanted
me to walk her to the door she said 'no', pretty firmly. I talked to
her for bit about what we did and what other people did and if she
had a good time and what she thought about the dead kid. She had her
hand on the door handle and was looking towards her door which is a
universal symbol for dates being over so I told her that I had a
really good time put my arm close to where I could gather her in
around her waist and tried to close the distance for little smoochy
smooch. My vinyl seats made her next move preternaturally quick as
she spun on her butt and rotated her knee up and into my chest to
block me from the impending kiss. She said, 'No.' In the firm manner
one uses to address a dog that is about to poop where he mustn't. It
was absolutely humiliating and much beyond salvageable. She said that
she was sorry but that she didn't want to kiss me. She opened the
door and closed the distance to her house rather quickly. I stayed
there in the dark car for a moment, confused and facing a kiss-less
existential crisis. I decided that if I was going to have a pity
party I should do it on the way home. The problem was I only lived a
few blocks away and that didn't give much time for an angsty
self-pitying rage cry at my failure, at the idea that kids could die,
and at the confusion I felt about the girl who as far as I could tell
I was in love with. I tried pulling it together before I went in –
I cursed myself, and my abortive attempt at kissing, and the fates,
and the gods and the universe. I pounded the steering wheel, dried my
tears, and went in to tell my mom what a great night I had. When she
asked why I'd been crying I told her that a boy I knew from school
had died that night. I wasn't really crying about him but the idea of
youth snuffed out and love unrequited but it seemed like too much to
say and I was tired.
