Ray had a nice car; it was obviously
fairly new and kept in great shape. A Volkswagen Jetta, it was a dark grey
color that seemed to mimic its owner’s personality. I opened the passenger door
and sat in the black leather seat, pulling my skirt down. “Hey, you ready?” he
said while smiling. “I think so I replied.”
He
ended up taking me to a nice dinner at some Italian restaurant nearby. It was
nice but not too fancy. He asked me a lot of questions about myself like my
favorite movie and what I did in my spare time. And I got to know Ray a bit
better as well. He is planning on applying to NYU for journalism. He plays the
guitar and his favorite movie is “Ironman” .His car was a sixteenth birthday
gift from his Mom. His parents are divorced. And his eyes are the color of
coffee when you first pour it into a cup.
The conversation between us came naturally, like we were old
friends. He loved to talk about himself. By the end of the night I felt like I
knew his entire life story. After he had paid for dinner we left the
restaurant. He held my hand, each finger intertwined with mine, as we walked to
the car. He opened the door for me and stared at me as I sat down. I looked up
at him “What?” but suddenly he had his lips against mine. The kiss was
surprising but still nice. Just as quickly as it had happened it was over and
he was walking over to the driver side. He drove me home in silence.
*
I pulled up
in my freshly cleaned Jetta. A gift I had received for my 16th birthday.
When I arrived at her house she ran out the door before I could even think
about walking up the path to knock on the door. She must be really
excited. “Hey,” I said flashing a pearly white smile her way “you
ready?” She was hesitant with her response; she was overthinking all of this.
She probably doesn’t go on dates often. I began to drive down the road while
she finally stated, “I think so.”
I
took her to my favorite Italian joint. It’s a nice restaurant with candles on
each table. I find that a lot of girls like to be treated like a princess. I
was glad she wore a skirt too because I once brought a girl here while she was
wearing jeans. The whole restaurant kept looking over at her like she didn’t
belong. I asked her some basic questions to get the conversation going. It
wasn’t long before I was able to get into a flow though.
I
told her about my family, the fact I was applying to NYU and that I play
guitar. She had asked me to play for her sometime and I agreed. She was not the
first girl to ask me to play before, girls was the main reason I began playing
anyway.
I
paid for the meal and we got up to leave. I held her hand as we walked to the
car. Her hand was ice and her body stiffened at the foreign touch. But I chose
to ignore it. I opened the door for her and was ready to make my move. I had
been thinking about this moment all night. It was the make or break moment.
As soon as she sat down and wiped her now sweaty hand on her skirt,
I leaned in. She looked up at the sudden movement and before she could respond
I had my lips pressed against hers. She tasted like strawberries and her lips
were smooth. After the moment had passed I walked back around to the driver
side and took her home. I spent the entire drive thinking about kissing her
again
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