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Authors: S. L. Naeole
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friend. There wasn’t a sign or any type of logo that hinted at a name. It was just a large, open field with a few picnic tables, a solitary bench, some enormous rocks for climbing and sunning yourself, and a playground with a swing set. The parking lot had four tall light poles in each corner that looked like miniature versions of the one that illuminated the baseball field behind the school.
As soon as I heard the engine turn off I hopped off the bike; it was as though the last bit of stored energy my legs contained had turned them into springs. He followed, although his movement was much more fluid — used to it. That’s what it was. He was used to riding the bike, the feeling of that powerful vibration turning his insides to foam. My legs felt permanently bowed, and they rattled like a penny in a coffee can after what could only have been a ten minute ride. I was embarrassing myself. Again.
“I always wanted to know how it felt to be a human compass,” I muttered as I held onto my thighs in a vain attempt to keep them from shaking.
I could hear his muffled laughter and I looked up as he removed his helmet, my mouth suddenly still…gaping…dry.
Dear God in Heaven, how could someone be so beautiful? And what on earth was he doing here with me? Rather, what was I doing here with him ? His hair, I realized now, was slightly longer than what was considered trendy here in Heath, and it was wavy. A chunk of it hung over his right eye, like a black velvet curtain hiding a star performer on the magnificent stage that was his face.
His nose, often a body part that looks so foreign on the human face, looked as though it had been sculpted from the same travertine stone of his skin. His cheekbones were high, sharp…almost dangerous. But his mouth — that was dangerous. Of that I was certain. His lips were full, poised at the ready to kill me with a smile. I knew it was coming any second now. How many times had I died today with just one quick twitch from his lips? This time, I was ready…a willing victim.
He looked at me. I closed my eyes, prepared. I took a deep breath, and then…
“So we meet again.”
I opened my eyes and blinked.
Was this the only thing he knew how to say? A face so divine, a mouth so lethal, eyes so deep and mysterious, and when he speaks with that glorious voice that made my legs begin to tremble even harder — not from the bike ride, but from something else altogether — he has nothing new to say?
“Don’t you know anything else to say other than ‘ so we meet again ’?” I yelled. Why was I yelling? I was furious, that’s why! “You have no idea who I am. I certainly know a lot less about you, so tell me why would you follow me, tell me to ride with you on your-your-your death machine, and then choose that to say, with everything else that I’m sure you want to know?”
He folded his arms across his chest and smiled. He was amused!
“Why are you smiling? This isn’t funny. I’m in the middle of God knows where-” I eyed him up and down “-with God knows who, and I stink of beans and beef !”
For whatever reason, my mouth was moving on its own, the words falling out like the bottom had been torn out of a rusty old coffee can filled with secrets. “My best friend — well, he’s not my best friend anymore, and he probably never really was — hates me. My father is starting a new family without me with a woman I cannot stand. I just ditched my first day of school…for the first time… ever ; and the only thing you can say to me is ‘ so we meet again ’, as if that is somehow the most important, most relevant phrase in the history of the spoken word?”
I was breathing hard; all of the angry feelings that I had dammed up within me were leaking, oozing out of every pore, slowly deflating the balloon I had felt growing inside of me, suffocating me. I had never
As soon as I heard the engine turn off I hopped off the bike; it was as though the last bit of stored energy my legs contained had turned them into springs. He followed, although his movement was much more fluid — used to it. That’s what it was. He was used to riding the bike, the feeling of that powerful vibration turning his insides to foam. My legs felt permanently bowed, and they rattled like a penny in a coffee can after what could only have been a ten minute ride. I was embarrassing myself. Again.
“I always wanted to know how it felt to be a human compass,” I muttered as I held onto my thighs in a vain attempt to keep them from shaking.
I could hear his muffled laughter and I looked up as he removed his helmet, my mouth suddenly still…gaping…dry.
Dear God in Heaven, how could someone be so beautiful? And what on earth was he doing here with me? Rather, what was I doing here with him ? His hair, I realized now, was slightly longer than what was considered trendy here in Heath, and it was wavy. A chunk of it hung over his right eye, like a black velvet curtain hiding a star performer on the magnificent stage that was his face.
His nose, often a body part that looks so foreign on the human face, looked as though it had been sculpted from the same travertine stone of his skin. His cheekbones were high, sharp…almost dangerous. But his mouth — that was dangerous. Of that I was certain. His lips were full, poised at the ready to kill me with a smile. I knew it was coming any second now. How many times had I died today with just one quick twitch from his lips? This time, I was ready…a willing victim.
He looked at me. I closed my eyes, prepared. I took a deep breath, and then…
“So we meet again.”
I opened my eyes and blinked.
Was this the only thing he knew how to say? A face so divine, a mouth so lethal, eyes so deep and mysterious, and when he speaks with that glorious voice that made my legs begin to tremble even harder — not from the bike ride, but from something else altogether — he has nothing new to say?
“Don’t you know anything else to say other than ‘ so we meet again ’?” I yelled. Why was I yelling? I was furious, that’s why! “You have no idea who I am. I certainly know a lot less about you, so tell me why would you follow me, tell me to ride with you on your-your-your death machine, and then choose that to say, with everything else that I’m sure you want to know?”
He folded his arms across his chest and smiled. He was amused!
“Why are you smiling? This isn’t funny. I’m in the middle of God knows where-” I eyed him up and down “-with God knows who, and I stink of beans and beef !”
For whatever reason, my mouth was moving on its own, the words falling out like the bottom had been torn out of a rusty old coffee can filled with secrets. “My best friend — well, he’s not my best friend anymore, and he probably never really was — hates me. My father is starting a new family without me with a woman I cannot stand. I just ditched my first day of school…for the first time… ever ; and the only thing you can say to me is ‘ so we meet again ’, as if that is somehow the most important, most relevant phrase in the history of the spoken word?”
I was breathing hard; all of the angry feelings that I had dammed up within me were leaking, oozing out of every pore, slowly deflating the balloon I had felt growing inside of me, suffocating me. I had never
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