screech of the passenger door momentarily keeps us apart. Now the moment is new all over again. I’m embarrassed. The dusty seats, the french fry smell. Still, we slide our hips together. His arm settles around my shoulders again. I feel the heat of his torso. I’m instantly overloaded. My non-corporeal body blows out to the edges of the galaxy, swallowing a billion billion stars.
I open my eyes and look into his.
I am here.
This is what I’ve wanted. Everything is breaking open. Everything I’ve revolved about, my core. Everything is crumbling, opening. It’s going to happen, it is. His arms are pulling me up to the last, sweet place. Cracking my imagination like a mold that was wrong and small.
Yes.
Our faces come together. Like people meeting in a hallway, we can’t figure out which way to lean. His eyes are shiny. What does he see in mine? What does he see in me?
I feel a choking coming in my throat. “You could have anyone. Anyone.”
“Your mind,” he whispers, eyes moving as if to intercept my thoughts.
“I’m yours?”
“Mind- duh . With a d . It’s luminous. It dazzles me. I wish I could describe how you make me feel. I’m supposed to be good with words. But I’m speechless. Lost.”
But how could he be? How could he be all of those things that I am?
“God,” I say. “You—it’s everything. I’m coming apart, I’m coming to pieces—”
He kisses me.
Until this moment, this time, until my mouth opens against his opening mouth, until his tongue touches mine, gentle, alive—it has always been something that might only be a thought, a wisp of fantasy, a dream. Something that might never happen.
Now it’s very real and I can’t stop feeling that it’s real. The sensations I didn’t know to expect are there, magnified, huge. I didn’t know I would hear the blood moving through my ears. I didn’t know a blue light would turn on in my head, beginning with a tiny dot and growing to become a circle. I didn’t know everything would happen slow and fast.
I didn’t know he would taste this sweet.
My hand moves up, discovering his face. His jaw is lightly bristled with evening whiskers. My hand touches both our faces, feeling the joining of our lips as it is happening.
“I can’t believe it,” I say when our faces move apart.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, I can’t believe it.”
I can’t stop shaking, either.
I’m on completely alien ground. Levitation is a possibility. Before I can absorb the consequence of the first one, he kisses me again.
“Maybe you’d better run,” Mr. Mann says when we surface for air.
I open my eyes, try to sound as if my head is still attached. “Where?”
Because there is no other place.
His laugh sounds bitter. “Damn it.”
We kiss again. My head is totally gone; there is nothing left but my heart. Suddenly I’m not afraid anymore.
“I love you,” I whisper.
I hope he can’t see my tears in this light. I burrow my face into his chest and smell the day on his shirt. He clenches his fist against my back and speaks into my neck. His voice is warm.
“I didn’t mean to take it this far.”
I lift my blurry eyes. “That still means you meant to take it.”
magnification of breath
Joy.
Holy sweet goodness.
It’s with me every waking moment.
But it’s a terrified, shivering, fragile joy. The next morning I wake up silently shrieking, the sheets in knots around my legs. Did it happen?
Has he forgotten? Changed his mind? Lost it?
The world is a whole new place.
I touch my fingers to my lips. Feel him there. I would know for sure if I could see him.
But—no!—I’ve got a dentist appointment today. I miss his class.
The dentist says my wisdom tooth, the one that’s lying on its side, the slacker, should come out as soon as I can schedule it. I’m not listening; I’m staring deep into the oval-shaped light above my head. There are thousands of little golden diamonds glistening there. They help me focus. I don’t want to
I open my eyes and look into his.
I am here.
This is what I’ve wanted. Everything is breaking open. Everything I’ve revolved about, my core. Everything is crumbling, opening. It’s going to happen, it is. His arms are pulling me up to the last, sweet place. Cracking my imagination like a mold that was wrong and small.
Yes.
Our faces come together. Like people meeting in a hallway, we can’t figure out which way to lean. His eyes are shiny. What does he see in mine? What does he see in me?
I feel a choking coming in my throat. “You could have anyone. Anyone.”
“Your mind,” he whispers, eyes moving as if to intercept my thoughts.
“I’m yours?”
“Mind- duh . With a d . It’s luminous. It dazzles me. I wish I could describe how you make me feel. I’m supposed to be good with words. But I’m speechless. Lost.”
But how could he be? How could he be all of those things that I am?
“God,” I say. “You—it’s everything. I’m coming apart, I’m coming to pieces—”
He kisses me.
Until this moment, this time, until my mouth opens against his opening mouth, until his tongue touches mine, gentle, alive—it has always been something that might only be a thought, a wisp of fantasy, a dream. Something that might never happen.
Now it’s very real and I can’t stop feeling that it’s real. The sensations I didn’t know to expect are there, magnified, huge. I didn’t know I would hear the blood moving through my ears. I didn’t know a blue light would turn on in my head, beginning with a tiny dot and growing to become a circle. I didn’t know everything would happen slow and fast.
I didn’t know he would taste this sweet.
My hand moves up, discovering his face. His jaw is lightly bristled with evening whiskers. My hand touches both our faces, feeling the joining of our lips as it is happening.
“I can’t believe it,” I say when our faces move apart.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, I can’t believe it.”
I can’t stop shaking, either.
I’m on completely alien ground. Levitation is a possibility. Before I can absorb the consequence of the first one, he kisses me again.
“Maybe you’d better run,” Mr. Mann says when we surface for air.
I open my eyes, try to sound as if my head is still attached. “Where?”
Because there is no other place.
His laugh sounds bitter. “Damn it.”
We kiss again. My head is totally gone; there is nothing left but my heart. Suddenly I’m not afraid anymore.
“I love you,” I whisper.
I hope he can’t see my tears in this light. I burrow my face into his chest and smell the day on his shirt. He clenches his fist against my back and speaks into my neck. His voice is warm.
“I didn’t mean to take it this far.”
I lift my blurry eyes. “That still means you meant to take it.”
magnification of breath
Joy.
Holy sweet goodness.
It’s with me every waking moment.
But it’s a terrified, shivering, fragile joy. The next morning I wake up silently shrieking, the sheets in knots around my legs. Did it happen?
Has he forgotten? Changed his mind? Lost it?
The world is a whole new place.
I touch my fingers to my lips. Feel him there. I would know for sure if I could see him.
But—no!—I’ve got a dentist appointment today. I miss his class.
The dentist says my wisdom tooth, the one that’s lying on its side, the slacker, should come out as soon as I can schedule it. I’m not listening; I’m staring deep into the oval-shaped light above my head. There are thousands of little golden diamonds glistening there. They help me focus. I don’t want to
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