Car Ride

We’re going to go see a movie. The newly weds will obviously sit in the front together, how adorable. They really are so cute. Now the rest of us have to cram in the back. That’s 5 of us. A couple people are already in the car and I wait for the other girl to go in first but she doesn’t get the hint and now we’re being yelled at for taking so long and somehow I end up next to you. I tried to avoid it, really I did. I didn’t want to sit right up next to you, crammed against your body. But the door is slammed shut, and it’s you, me, and the door. Everyone else is on the other side of you. So it’s not like I can talk to anyone else besides you. Not that I don’t want to talk to you, of course I do, but to have your undivided, focused attention, it’s a little unnerving.

You offer me a headphone and we start listening. You put your arm around me. You always put your arm around the back of the seat next to you but because we’re all crammed together, your arm ends up around me. I hate to admit it but I enjoy it. All of it. The arm, the headphones, the attention. I’ve felt this way for a long time but I can’t say I know about you. You’re way out of my league for one thing and I never picked up on anything from your end. So I quietly enjoy my time with you and try to hide my feelings because I know they won’t go anywhere. We talk about some of the songs and other stuff in general. I drop my bangs between my face and yours occasionally because the proximity makes me uncomfortable. You lean in really close and say things right into my ear when I do that.

After a fantastic 30 minutes that I thoroughly enjoy, we finally arrive to the movies. We don’t sit next to each other like we did last time. Afterwards, when I ask how you liked the movie, you tell me you don’t know because you weren’t really paying attention. My thoughts wander as to why but I quickly squash them before they wander too far. It’s nothing.

Roof Chilling

We have some time to kill before the party tonight so we head up to the roof with another friend. We get to the roof and climb up to the smaller and higher roof using a shaky ladder. You come up last to make sure everyone makes it up safely. You start to tell me about this movie. At first, I’m interested. You talk with your arm around the other friend. You guys are pretty tight so it’s cool. We sit on bricks and upside down buckets as you describe what happened.

After a while, I’m not even listening anymore. To be honest, this is starting to sound really boring. But I can’t bring myself to stop you. I want to stay here with you. I want to spend time with you. And this story is just not ending. I wonder if you’re stretching it to spend time with me. No, no you’re not. It’s not possible. I know how I feel but I’m pretty sure the feelings aren’t reciprocated so I just soak in the little moments I get with you.

At some point I realize we’re going to be late for the party if we don’t head down soon. You climb down the ladder first and hold it for our other friend. I climb down last with my back to the ladder. On the second to last step, I’m standing in between your arms, face to face with you, because you’re still holding the ladder. I look at you, waiting for you to move so I can step down. You look at me, and hold your arms steady for a few seconds longer than necessary. I think I see something in your eyes…could it be? No. No way. Not possible. You’re way out of my league.

“Hurry up!” says our other friend.

You move your arms, I step down, and just like that, the moment is over.

Stolen Ring

I came back into the room and sat down in front of the TV, with you. My thumb rubbed against the base of my ring finger on my right hand.

“Where’s my ring?”

It was a ring my cousin gave me. I had told her it looked very pretty on her and she took it off and gave it me. No hesitation. One of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.

I look over and you’re twirling it on your index finger, smirking.

“Give it back!”

I always turn a bit childish around you, probably to mask my true emotions but I bet you can see right through them.

“No. I found it and now it’s mine.”
“Give it back.”
“No.”
“It’s mine!”
“It’s mine now.”
“Hmph.”

I turn toward the TV with a frown on my face. After a bit of time of not really watching the TV and seething but also secretly enjoying the attention, I see your fist move in front of my face. You unfold your fingers and I see my ring. I glare at you and you nod. I smile and take the ring.

Hearty Laugh

“What was the last thing that gave you a real, authentic, tearful, hearty belly laugh? Why was it so funny?” —The Daily Post.

The last time I really had a good laugh was earlier this year, during the spring semester. I had seen an article on Buzzfeed about girls who have b—- resting faces and it reminded me of my younger sister, who had been complaining of her own resting face a few days earlier. So I pulled up the article on my iPad and went to her room to show her. She finished up her drawing and came over on the bed to look at it. As she was scrolling through, she started laughing and laughing and then she was crying and then she was gasping for breath because it was so funny to her. I hadn’t found it that funny but seeing her laugh so hard made me laugh really hard and pretty soon, I too, was gasping for breath and clutching my stomach in laughter. We laughed together for a good bit and my sister had to put the iPad down in the middle of the article for fear she would lose her breath. We laughed ourselves out and then went back to the article and laughed some more and finally we made it through the article.

But what I love about that memory is that it wasn’t the article that made me laugh, it was my sister’s laughter that made me laugh.