Hi.
It's me again. Jane.
And again my comfy couch is where I'm at. Alone, yes.
But guess what?
Yep, I did call Amy and yes I asked her out. On a date.
Only our date didn't really go as planned?
***
We'd just agreed to meet in the same park where we met four days ago. "How 'bout noon?" I ask as my mind starts to calculate how much time I would have left to try on seven different outfits only to end up wearing the very first thing I picked out.
"Fine by me."
"Good?Great." I smile as I nervously rake my hand through my hair. I should have got that haircut last week.
"Yes." I hear a content sigh from the other end of the line and lean my head back. Rays of sunlight fall into my eyes as suddenly an idea pops into my mind.
"Say," I start as I sit up again. "How do you feel about rollerblading?"
"Well..." Amy hesitates.
"I bought a pair last year, but never used them?Scared to fall. Did you know that about sixty percent of the broken-"
"Oh," I interrupt, my smile fading a little.
"But I'd love to try with you," she quickly says.
"You could teach me."
"Sure," I reply -a smirk curling my lips again as I picture myself holding a certain brunette in my arms.
"Alright. Then I'll see you in two hours."
TWO HOURS!?
"Yeah," I respond nonchalantly. "See you then."
"Bye, Jane."
"Later, Amy."
So far so good you'd say, huh? Well, disaster always strikes when least expected. Hmm?come to think of it?considering my luck?disaster always strikes, whether I expect it or not?I'm kind of disaster-magnet.
An hour and a half -a trip to the grocery store, quick shower, trying on merely three (whoot! personal best) outfits, searching for my second rollerblade, and packing a backpack- later, I'm on my way to the park, blades in one hand, the backpack slung over my shoulder.
I approach the bench (
Order! my heart hammers.
Order in the body!) and see that Amy is already there. The last hour I had been too busy to let my nerves take over control, but right now nervousness is coursing through my veins. Just like these stupid questions coursing through my brain.
Will she like me? This date? This sweater? Hair -up or down? Sunglasses -on or off?
All the questions vanish the second her chocolate brown eyes meet mine. The nerves, however, are now settling around my heart and in my face, a quickened pulse and reddened cheeks the result.
I walk over to Amy and sit down next to her. "Hi," I say shyly.
"Hey," she starts. "So are you ready to teach me how to skate?"
Her voice has a calming effect on me and as she starts to remove her shoes I find my ability to utter more than one syllable. "Yes. I think I'll be able to show you a few things."
So, now is the time where I'm going to charm her with my skating abilities. As I reach for the laces of my left shoe, I notice a branch lying in front of Amy's feet. I bend over, grab the branch and sit back up holding the stick up for her to see.
'Idiot.' Suddenly I shoot up and look around. Oh no...It's that annoying voice again. 'As if showing a girl a stick is a turn on. She'll think you're a mental!' the voice chides.
Though, as soon as I see her grin I know I haven't screwed things up?yet.
"First accident evaded," Amy says as she watches me fiddle with the stick.
I nod as I look into her hazel eyes once again. "Sticks and stones
do break bones?especially when on rollerblades," I say as I throw the stick away.
I smirk as a new idea pops into my mind -a new idea for one of my so-called movie scripts;
The Branch Collector. This idea is followed by visions of a certain famous dark-haired beauty. Not long though, because after a second that vision changes into the dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty who is currently sitting next to me.
I should write this down. Shall I ask Amy whether she's got a post-it for me? I sneak a glance at her. Nah. She hasn't got her jogging pants on. Though, she is wearing very nice fitting brown cargo pants plus a tight-fitting, dark blue tee, the clothes showing off her nice figure. Now I wish I'd held on to my New Year's resolution of going to the gym twice a week.
'Focus, Jane. Focus.'
I look around to make sure that Rocky isn't hiding in the bushes, trying to be my prompter.
You're probably wondering who this Rocky person is, right? Well, Rachel 'Rocky' Stevens is one of my best friends. We met a few years ago. Together with two of my friends -my buddy Ben and fellow-student Dorothy (I'm so glad my mom wasn't a big fan of L. Frank Baum's story) I went into town one night. At a bar Ben spotted his friend Jack, who'd brought his girlfriend, Rachel.
Anyways, to make a long story short, we were all having a fun time until some drunk decided to grope Rachel's -and I quote- "delicate behind". Even before Jack could come to the rescue, Rachel punched the guy in his face, breaking his nose in the process. Despite we all got thrown out that bar that night, we hit it off really fast. No pun intended.
And since I currently am the last single in our group of friends (Ben dating Elizabeth, his crush from back in high-school, and Dorothy recently losing her heart to Toto?I mean, Tonya), she recently made it her goal in life to be my personal cupid/matchmaker. So when I accidentally let something slip from my meeting Amy she suddenly needed to know every detail about that afternoon we met. She also found it very necessary to call me at least twice a day to check whether I'd called Amy already.
But I'm off track again. Sorry for the detour, back to me and Amy?
I realize Amy's ready and waiting, so I quickly focus on the task at hand.
While I exchange my shoes for my rollerblades we fall into a comfortable conversation about everything and nothing.
About the weather, her upcoming exam, my essay, her parents, my mom.
Finally, after fifteen?no, more like half and hour, we decide it's time to 'get on rolin'.' -her words, not mine.
Shoes stuffed away, I sling the backpack on my shoulders. I stand up from the bench, wobbling for only a second as I try to get back the feel of standing on eight wheels. I hope Amy hasn't-
"You know what you're doing, right?" Amy smirks, still sitting safely on the bench.
Darn. "Of course," I reply as I take a first step, roll away, circle and stop right in front of her. Fortunately I still know how to stop.
I reach out my hand for her to take and see a look of hesitation in her eyes.
"I won't let you fall, trust me. Your tuchus won't get acquaintance with the ground. I'll support you, and if miraculously you happen to fall make sure you pull me along and don't hesitate to use me as a human airbag," I say smiling, hoping a little joke will win her over.
She looks at me, and after a few seconds she also smiles -the hesitation vanished from her hazel eyes.
"I will," Amy says as she takes my hand.
"What?" I ask as I help her up. "Fall?"
"No, silly," Amy replies as she stands right in front of me. "Trust you," she finishes as she lets her free hand trace along my arm. I can't stop the shiver that starts at where her finger brushes my skin and spreads through my entire body.
As I register the expectant look in her eyes I quickly clear my throat and move away from her, creating some much needed distance to allow my raging hormones to calm down. "Alright, let's give it a try."
I turn around and take a step, the wheels starting to roll only to suddenly be blocked by?Right.
A branch.
Idiot, my mind screams, but my lips only utter "Oh no, oh no, oh no". It is as if everything is in slow-motion. It's just like a scene from that movie,
The Matrix -while crashing to the ground the camera pans around me, showing the audience every possible angle of how my body gets up, close, and personal with the ground.
Amy calls out my name, but that doesn't really register in my brain. The thing that
does imprint itself in my gray cells is that of the feel of her hands trying to find something to grab hold of...My butt to be precise.
But her groping hands unfortunately don't prevent me from falling.
As there are only a few inches left between my face and the asphalt, all things I've learned on how to fall, during a karate course I took years ago -not using your hands to catch yourself, but using the downward motion in your own benefit, sort of rolling through the fall, et cetera, you catch my drift.
Though, the moment my hand connects with the ground I immediately realize my fault, or rather feel my fault. My right arm hurts like @^#% (One words, rhymes with bell).
"Aaarghh," I cry out in pain as I carefully try to maneuver my body into a sitting position.
In a flash Amy is on her knees beside me. I look from my arm -now cradled on my lap- to Amy.
"Let me have a look," she says as she carefully reaches for my arm.
I watch her while she looks at my limb, the soft probing she does not very comfortable, but the sight of her caring for me making the pain bearable at the moment.
That is until she asks me to stretch my arm. "Your wrist seems okay, but I think you might have fractured your ulna or radius."
After a quick consult of my
ER/Grey's Anatomy/House M.D.-knowledge I know what she's talking about.
"I don't think it's-" I start, but she interrupts me. "We'll find out soon enough. This'll probably hurt, I'm sorry," she says as she looks into my eyes while she starts to move my arm.
I bite my lip to try and stop the scream from finding its way out, but it's no use.
"Sorry," Amy says as she places my arm back on my lap.
"I should be the one saying sorry," I start as I look away, ashamed of wrecking our first date.
"Come on, we need to get this arm of yours x-rayed," my brunette doctor-in-the-making says as she starts to remove my blades.
I carefully remove my backpack, grab my shoes and try to put them on only to find out how hard that is when you're temporarily 'armicapped'.
"Here, let me do that," Amy says after she exchanges her rollerblades for her trusty sneakers.
As she pulls a shoe onto my left foot she looks up. "How many times have you used those?" she asks as she looks from me to my fairly new-looking blades and back.
"Twice," I reply as I hang my head in shame.
"As in twice a week for the last ten weeks?"
"No. Just twice. Look this was a stupid idea. I'll make it to the hospital on my own. I'll be fine. You can go home if you-" I start to ramble as she finishes with my other shoe.
"Hey," she interrupts, her hand reaching out to cup my chin. Oh that soft hand again. I wonder if her entire body feels like that... I can't stop myself from leaning into her touch.
"This might not be an ideal way to start a first date, far from it in fact, but I'm not ready to end it here. Besides," she starts as she locks her hazel eyes on mine and starts to wiggle one of her eyebrows suggestively, "there are plenty of things you can do with just one hand."
Completely unnecessary I swallow hard. Though my throat is as dry as a desert it is the only thing I am able to do while my mind fills itself with possibilities.
"Hang on," Amy says, stopping me as I try to stand up. Reaching for her backpack, she pulls out a scarf. Carefully she places it round my right arm and leans in close as she ties it at the back of my neck.
With her arms around me and her body so close, my nose fills with her scent and my eyes settle on her shirt. Let me tell you this, I never knew that an ample bosom practically pushed into your face was such good pain medication.
"There," Amy says as she helps me onto my feet. "This'll be a bit more comfortable."
Well, I think I was more comfortable before
you helped me up, I think, but in reality I reply with a "Thank you" as I grab my back pack.
"Let me hold that," she starts as she holds out her hand.
"No need, but if you could take my blades?"
"Sure." She smiles at me before she grabs the eight wheels of death.
"How did you get here?" she asks as we head off.
"Walked over," I reply. The numbing effect of her closeness has now completely worn off and my arms hurts with every move my body makes.
"Alright. Then we'll take my bike," Amy replies as she checks her watch. "We'll be there in fifteen minutes."
As we reach her bike she first ties the laces of my blades together and hangs them round her neck.
"That can't be comfortable," I say as I reach out for them.
"Don't make me have to hurt your other arm as well," Amy quips as she softly slaps my hand away.
She unlocks her bike and tells me to sit on the carrier. She pulls my arm around her waist, resting her hand on top of mine for a moment. "Hold on tight," she says as she looks at me over her shoulder, giving my hand a careful squeeze at the same time.
I do as I am told and feel her taut stomach muscles through the fabric of her shirt. Quickly she speeds off to the hospital. I sigh and lean my head against her back, her closeness again having a sedating effect on me.
I hear and also feel her chuckle as my hand gets a will of its own and starts to make small circular movements across her shirt.
Ticklish, huh? That's something to keep in mind.
For the next ten minutes neither of us spoke. As we reach a traffic light -which is the last object standing between us and the hospital- she turns around to face me. "Despite the circumstances, I like spending time with you."
"I like having you close," I blurt out. As soon as I utter those words I'm about ready to 'open mouth, insert foot'. I think the drug that is Amy has by now also affected my brain.
I see a light blush settle on her cheeks before she quickly turns back to face the traffic light, but that light blush is probably hardly noticeable when compared with my beet-red face.
Five minutes later we're standing at the front desk. Amy is talking with one of the nurses and by the looks of things they know each other. As she tells the nurse about my arm, I receive a once-over from the woman who I guess isn't that much older than I am.
The red-head tells Amy she can take me to exam 3 where Dr. I-didn't-really-catch-his-name-'cause-I-was-trying-to-give-the-nurse-the-evil-eye would soon join us to check my arm.
"Come on," Amy says as she reaches for my hand. She entwines our fingers and heads off, pulling me along. I dare to glance once over my shoulder into the direction of the red-head and see her staring at us with a not so happy look on her face. At that moment I feel the need to poke out my tongue at her. But I'd never stoop to that level of childishness?at least not in public.
We walk into a small room. One bed stands in the middle and several medical instruments are displayed along the walls. After discarding all my stuff on the chair in the corner of the room I walk over to the bed and sit down.
"Doctor Fields will be here soon," Amy starts.
Ah, that's the man's name. Fields, check. "He's the best orthopedists the hospital has got. I asked Kim to page him."
Kim.
That name gives me the chills. 'Hang on,' that annoying voice starts again. 'Did you hear what she just said?'
"You paged him? For me?"
Amy nods.
"And you really think that the best orthopedist will just drop whatever he's doing to check on my arm? Don't you think he'll just send an intern?" I ask her incredulously.
Again she nods as she walks over to where I'm seated on the bed and sits down right next to me. "Yes, we have a close bond with one another. He won't mind-"
Bond? my thoughts interrupt.
"Yes," Amy replies.
Damn.
"I said that out loud, didn't I?"
"Yes, you did," she says as she smiles. She takes my hand in hers and starts to trace my palm with her thumb. "Don't worry, it's not any of what you're thinking. He's my uncle."
I let out a sigh. Quickly realizing my mistake I turn to face her and lock eyes with her. "I'm sorry I thought that-"
"Shh, it's okay," she replies as she silences me with one of her fingers against my lips.
Just as she leans in to replace that finger with her lips there's a knock at the door. So, even before our breaths could mingle we pull back and look at the gray-haired man in white lab-coat standing in the doorway.
"Doctor Fields," Amy greets the man as she hops down off of the bed.
"Miss Porter," he replies as he looks over at me. "I see you've already helped her to some improvised First Aid sling. Why don't you present this case?" he says as he turns back to her.
I can see the glint in her eyes. She loves this being-a-doctor stuff. I, on the other hand, only enjoy hospitals when watching a show on TV.
"Alright," she starts as she walks over to me and carefully unties the scarf and takes my arm in her hands.
"This is Miss MacKenzie, age 21, good physical health," she starts.
"I don't see how this is related to my ar-" I mutter.
"Hush," she interrupts as she again starts to prod my arm. The look of shock on my face must have been pretty entertaining, because when I look up I notice Doctor Fields and Amy exchange smirks.
Twenty minutes, an x-ray and examinations by both Amy and Doctor Fields, later we're sent off to the plaster room. Indeed, as Amy had already predicted, I had a fracture in my ulna.
My sentence was: three weeks of plaster cast. Then, Doctor Fields had to leave us for an emergency.
I sit on a bed again while Amy pulls a chair next to it. In silence we are waiting for some plaster guy?technician?whatever.
Suddenly I feel nervous again, I think it due to the silence. So I try to come up with something to say. "You're really good at this medical stuff."
Oh how very eloquent of you...
"Thank you." Amy beams as she looks up and into my eyes.
"So, you also want to become an orthopedist just like your uncle?"
"I'm not sure yet." She smiles and looks back at her hands. "My uncle would like to see me follow in his footsteps. With him and his wife not having any children I'm the closest to be his successor."
"I sense a
but," I say as I duck my head and try to meet her eyes again.
"I also like pediatrics. That's with-"
"Children," I finish for her. "I know. I've got
some medical lingo down," I say as I wink at her. "Well, I can only say, do what
you want to do, not what others would want you to do."
"Yeah," she smiles half-heartedly. At that moment the plaster-tech steps in and greets us. He and Amy chat about different plaster techniques while they work on my arm. Every few minutes she searches my eyes and smiles.
Seeing her caring side has definitely a positive influence on my pain, that is, until they start to push and hold my arm in the right stance. Again certain four letter words tried to find their way out, but I bravely battled them, nearly losing my tongue in the process.
"We're almost done," Amy says as she reaches out and pushed a lock of hair behind my ear.
Ten minutes later we're walking out of the hospital, my right arm in a nice blue cast, resting in a sling, my left arm occupied by Amy's. I had joked about wanting a pink cast, but -fortunately for me- the tech informed us that he was fresh out of pink, and so, Amy settled on using blue.
"I'll be glad once this it over," I sigh as we're back on her bike and cruise through traffic.
"What?"Amy asks as she rests her hand on my left arm which I had clasped around her waist. "This date, or?"
"Did you consider this afternoon spent in a hospital as a date, then?" I ask her as I think about how I found it a total failure -the way I'd messed up, that is. Amy has been nothing less than charming, caring, compassionate, driven, cute, sexy?okay, I might be a bit biased about her. Anyways, she wasn't the one to screw things up. That was me, capital M.E.
She doesn't reply to my question, but poses another herself. "Do you want this date to be over?"
I cringe.
This is so going the wrong way, I think as I notice that she sounds a bit hurt.
'Indeed,' that annoying voice agrees with my thoughts.
"No!" I quip. "Wait. Forget what I just said. Let me rephrase that. I meant to say that I'll be glad once we're at my room so we can continue our date?to try and get a happy ending to this first date, if you still want to..."
Good one, Jane. I smile as I feel her tighten her grip on my arm.
"Really?" she says as she turns to look over her shoulder.
"Yes," I answer sincerely as I look deep into her eyes, hoping to persuade her to spend some more time together. "I still have a bag filled with all sorts of tasty morsels. My room probably won't be as romantic as the park?" I don't finish the sentence as I realize we had just arrived at my place. I pull away from Amy's warm backside, my left arm releasing her waist, and watch her as she puts away her bike.
"Oh, so you had already planned on me to feed you?" she replies jokingly as she turns back to face me. Stepping towards me, she reaches out for me and takes my hand.
"Yes. It was all part of my evil scheme. Take you to the park, crush some bones -preferably mine, take you to my dorm, have you as a personal slave for a few hours," I reply on the same light tone.
"I'd say private nurse is a better name, don't you think?" She grins as she looks at me.
"I?uh..I," I mutter as my brain fills itself with images of Amy in a nurses outfit. My version of a nurse's outfit, that is, which, I can tell you, is
way better than those dull green clothes the nurses at the hospital were wearing. I feel a heat wave coursing through my body again, mainly settling itself in my cheeks.
She starts to laugh loudly as I am only able to stutter a few "I" s and "Uh" s.
'We really need to work on your fluency,' the little voice says. This time I have to agree with it. This stuttering of single syllables -combined with blushing profusely and breaking bones- isn't really helping me be Miss Jane 'Suave' MacKenzie.
We arrive at my room and I let us in. After stowing my eight wheels of death in the back of the closet, I walk over to my couch where Amy is already sitting, looking around in my room. Fortunately I had recently cleaned the layer of dust, neatly piled my magazines, and cleared my desk, so my room was visit-friendly.
I walk over with my backpack and try to open it, but with only my left hand to do so it really is impossible?Especially when you're right-handed. Amy stands up and holds out her hand, waiting for me to give her the bag.
"Let me at least first try it myself." I start to defend myself, but she won't have any of it. She shakes her head, takes the bag from my hand and then orders me to sit down.
"You really want to take care of me?" I ask, taking in her backside which was currently presented to me as she placed the backpack on the small coffee table in front of the couch. "I could use a sponge bath," I say just loud enough for her to hear.
She looks over her shoulder menacingly but turns back to her task at hand before speaking up. "I take my job seriously," she says as she opens the backpack.
"Really? Then where is your uniform?"
"I think you more than appreciate what I'm wearing now, don't you?" she asks as she looks back at me, an evil glint in her eyes and the corners of her mouth turning up in a small smirk.
Busted!
"Oh, but I do," I quickly respond and as she sits down next to me I let my eyes wander over her body, taking in every inch of her. Especially since I can already guess what's underneath that shirt from when I innocently let my hand wander...
"So, let's see what's in here," she says as she starts to unpack, placing everything on the small coffee table in front of us. After the table is filled with several sorts of fruit, and two bottles of water she pulls out a chocolate bar, followed by candy and cookies. "Pfew," she mockingly sighs as she nudges me with her elbow. "I was starting to think you were some kind of health-freak."
"Nah," I start as I grab the cookies and start munching on them. "The fruit's just for show."
As we both are settled with drinks and food we start to talk about our likes and dislikes -movies, most kinds of music, reading, horses (hers), dogs (mine), snow, photography (hers), writing (mine), hiking, cooking (mine), eating (hers) versus cats, loud trance music, rainy days -though a romantic walk through the rain with Amy would definitely be on my
likes list, rollerblading (no way I'm trying that again), spiders (hers), little fluffy bunnies (mine, don't ask), telemarketers?I probably missed some, but you get the idea.
About our friends. Apparently Kim, the red-head from the hospital is her childhood friend and she wasn't giving me the you're-stealing-my-girlfriend-eye but the don't-you-dare-hurt-my-best-friend-eye. After Amy told me she'd helped her through rough times while growing up, all jealousy had vanished and I instantly liked the girl. I told her about Rocky and how she is my equivalent of her Kim. True friends are hard to find, so you really have to cherish them. And so, we both wanted to get to know each other's best friend.
About family. She has a younger brother, Rick, who still lives with her parents, Patrick and Amanda Porter. Though she only told me a few things about her father, I'm already nervous to meet the man. (I already pictured him to be a Lieutenant, reigning his household as a troop of soldiers, so you can imagine my state of shock when Amy told me about his days in the Army.) Her mother, on the other hand, seems to be a really nice lady, spends a lot of her afternoons working for several charities. I told her about my older sister, Charlotte (I know what you're thinking?yep, named after Brontė), who's happily married to Thomas and has a little daughter, Anna. I told her about my mother, Diane, about her passion for books and her own small bookstore in my hometown. I didn't feel like talking about my father, not yet. That'd be something for another occasion. Amy wordlessly understood.
We even decide to talk about past relationships. Not a lot of dating-history on my side, sure I've dated a few girls, but nothing serious enough to even get to second base, so no real exes to talk about. Amy told about her ex-girlfriend who had one day, after a relationship of two and a half years, decided she 'needed some time apart' and had left her, only to run off with her boss. Again, Kim had helped her through. And again she rose in my opinion.
Then our next category to talk about: I'll take 'Goals in Life'
for 200?
"I think you'll make a wonderful children's doctor. I mean, look at how good you handle me?" I say before she offers me another strawberry -completely unnecessary, but oh so welcome since she had moved closer to me to feed me, her warm body curled around my side.
"Yeah, you're a hand full," she replies as she pulls the strawberry away right before I want to take a bite and plops it into her own mouth. I try to reach for it, but she swats my left hand away.
"Hey, don't badger the crippled." I try to pout, but as she starts to laugh I can't stop myself from joining in.
Once our laughter subsides Amy shifts back a bit and I immediately miss her warmth. "What about you, Jane?"
Oh how I love the way she pronounces my name. I know, it's still the same name, but the way she says it?I don't know, I guess it's this lilt in her voice I like.
"What's your dream?"
"Well," I start as I take the cup of tea she offers me. "I've always wanted to start my own publishing house, a place where not only I, but also others can manifest their creativity."
"That's wonderful," she replies, her words genuinely meant.
"Will you let me read something you've written?" She asks before she tentatively sips from her cup, her eyes never leaving me as she awaits my answer.
"Sure. Once I find the time to actually finish one of my stories."
"Ah, come on. You must have something I can read," she says as she looks at my desk to see if there'd be some papers lying around.
"You know what?"
It's now or never... "Next time I'll bring a story along, okay?"
"I'd love that." I smile as I realize the hidden meaning in those words.
"Good," I reply as I place my cup back on the table. "Now, how about another one of those strawberries, nurse Porter?" -my request immediately complied with by a strawberry thrown right my face.
As Amy notices it's five o'clock already she says she has to go and starts to gathers her stuff.
"Well," Amy starts as she turns around in front of my door and faces me. "This was?"
"Awkward," I supply as she doesn't immediately finish her sentence.
"I was going to say fun, though that wouldn't apply to the entire afternoon," she says as she lets a finger trail across the sling before letting it carefully rest on my cast -her eyes never leaving the path her hand takes across my arm.
"Forgetting about Plasty for a moment," I newly baptize my right arm, "I have really enjoyed myself. And I hope that despite all, you have as well."
Amy smiles as she finally looks up through dark lock of hair and meets my eyes. Those hazel eyes are really magical. I'm drawn to them like moths are drawn to light. I reach out and push a dark lock behind her ear, my hand coming to rest on her shoulder.
She's still staring at me as she brushes her tongue across her lips. I hear a sharp intake of breath, but I don't even realize it's my own response to the sensual way in which she wets her luscious lips.
I have to taste them. 'Well then, go for it!' I can't, can I?
I think she spots the hesitation in my eyes, because she takes a step closer and leans in. I close my eyes and wait for her lips to claim mine. Though I can already feel her breath tickling my lips, I still get this nagging feeling that someone's tricking me. So I quickly open one eye and peek to check she's still there.
Of course she's still there, eyes closed, lips puckered. Only, now she seems to be the one who's indecisive, but now I've found some confidence and decide to take the plunge. I close the distance between us and softly brush my lips along hers.
I feel her tongue sneaking out and trying to find its way in. The softness of her lips and tongue, combined with the vague taste of strawberries and something I can only describe as Amy, is overwhelming and causes a series of shivers -almost like an electric current- to run amok up and down my spine. I notice her shudder a little as well, so I guess she felt that as well.
As I pull back and open my eyes everything is still a little hazy. I can't stop the shit-eating grin from fixing itself on my lips and when I'm able to focus again I see a matching one plastered on Amy's. I wait for that nagging voice to give a comment, but it remains silent.
Yes, victory!
'Ha, you wish.' Darn.
We're now only staring at each other, not saying a word, but just enjoying the closeness of each other. Her lips are only a breath away from mine and as I'm still trying to memorize our first kiss she suddenly pulls me in again, helping to refresh my memory.
This time when she backs away she picks her rollerblades up from the ground and turns to open the door. Hand in hand, we walk down the hall to the elevators, not paying attention to anything but each other.
"I'll call you tomorrow," she says as she pushes the button next to the door. She gives me one more peck on the lips before she steps into the elevator. As the doors start to close she waves one last time before vanishing from my sight.
I reach my window just in time to see her get on her bike and head off.
As I sink into my couch and prop my feet onto the coffee table I can only think of her eyes, her smile, and of course
our first kiss.
***
Well, she did call yesterday and tonight she's coming over to watch a movie.
'She can be here any minute, stop wasting time!' that (apparently ever-present) irritating voice says.
She already made a suggestion for our next outing once my cast comes off.
Horseback riding.
I'm not so sure whether that's such a good idea. 'Chicken' Oh no, we're not going down that road again...
I look at my right arm. Ah well, I'll at least have three weeks to mentally prepare myself?
The End
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