promise.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
He smirked, looking slightly amused. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.” His grinned widened, like he found something humorous in the situation.
“Jordan, do you think he was stoned? He seemed so weird tonight. You had to see that, right?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I did.”
“Were you really going to fight him?”
“I knew I wouldn’t have to. Stoned or not, he knows better than to pick a fight with me.”
I stared trying to understand how Jordan could be so confident. Until he dismissed me.
“Goodnight, Stephanie.”
“Goodnight,” I answered.
I knew everything changed between us. He realized I understood him like no one else. And I knew no matter how he denied it, buried deep inside, there was a whole lot of hurt. And that mutual pain and understanding, paired with an unyielding attraction made us perfect for each other. I felt it in my heart and I knew he felt the same way.
And if he needed time to act on it, then time I’d give him. So I put my mind to it. I was going to wait.
And so I did.
I waited.
Fourteen
And I waited.
Fifteen
And I waited.
Sixteen
I brushed the red polish over my little toenail, trying for the third time to fix the pedicure I ruined when my toe scraped against the car door earlier in the evening. I’d recently discovered I liked pampering myself with manicures and pedicures. But I still hadn’t found the knack of getting the polish to dry without smudging it.
Two weeks before senior prom and almost two months before my eighteenth birthday, life seemed perfect. College loomed in the not too distant future. Although only an hour away from home I planned to live on campus. I had a wonderful boyfriend I couldn’t get enough of. And I felt like I broke through the insecurity and self-doubt I used as a shield most of my life.
The phone rang. It sat on my desk across the room, out of my reach. The ringer taunted me like a young child sticking her tongue out saying nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, daring me to answer it. I wasn’t about to move and ruin my little toe masterpiece, so I let it go to voicemail. Besides, I already knew what I’d hear.
After five minutes passed and I felt absolutely certain the polish had dried, I got my phone and listened to the message.
“Stephanie, it’s Charlie. I’ll be a little late.”
He always ran late. I’d grown so accustomed to Charlie’s last minute calls and texts, I knew to pad on thirty minutes if we needed to be somewhere on time. But tonight he made the plans which included when he would pick me up.
I wondered what he had in store for us. He told me to dress up, we were doing something special. Charlie was big on surprises and since I liked to be surprised, we were getting along great. I liked him. A lot. Maybe I even more than liked him. Maybe I loved him. Maybe.
I heard a knock at my door. I knew, like a mind reader, before I could even get the words, “Who is it?” out of my mouth, Maria would walk in without waiting for a response.
“What’s up?” she asked flouncing in and plopping on the bed next to me.
“Not much,” I answered, hugging my knees to my chest.
“Waiting for Charlie?” she asked.
“Yep,” I smiled.
“Did you get everything you need for the prom?”
“Uh huh,” I nodded, “What about you?”
She nodded. “Picked up my shoes today. I can’t wait.” The last part came out in a high-pitched shriek. “Have you decided yet? Are you going to go through with it?”
Maria was referring to my sexual dilemma. While I cared very much for Charlie and we were barely able to keep our hands off each other, we still hadn’t gone all the way. And prom night being a cliché for first time sexual experiences, I had a decision to make.
Sometimes it made me feel like a freak. Everyone else did it. Even Maria. And she didn’t seem to have any regrets. Going all the way didn’t have the stigma my mother tried to convince me it did. At any rate, no
“You don’t have to do that.”
He smirked, looking slightly amused. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.” His grinned widened, like he found something humorous in the situation.
“Jordan, do you think he was stoned? He seemed so weird tonight. You had to see that, right?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I did.”
“Were you really going to fight him?”
“I knew I wouldn’t have to. Stoned or not, he knows better than to pick a fight with me.”
I stared trying to understand how Jordan could be so confident. Until he dismissed me.
“Goodnight, Stephanie.”
“Goodnight,” I answered.
I knew everything changed between us. He realized I understood him like no one else. And I knew no matter how he denied it, buried deep inside, there was a whole lot of hurt. And that mutual pain and understanding, paired with an unyielding attraction made us perfect for each other. I felt it in my heart and I knew he felt the same way.
And if he needed time to act on it, then time I’d give him. So I put my mind to it. I was going to wait.
And so I did.
I waited.
Fourteen
And I waited.
Fifteen
And I waited.
Sixteen
I brushed the red polish over my little toenail, trying for the third time to fix the pedicure I ruined when my toe scraped against the car door earlier in the evening. I’d recently discovered I liked pampering myself with manicures and pedicures. But I still hadn’t found the knack of getting the polish to dry without smudging it.
Two weeks before senior prom and almost two months before my eighteenth birthday, life seemed perfect. College loomed in the not too distant future. Although only an hour away from home I planned to live on campus. I had a wonderful boyfriend I couldn’t get enough of. And I felt like I broke through the insecurity and self-doubt I used as a shield most of my life.
The phone rang. It sat on my desk across the room, out of my reach. The ringer taunted me like a young child sticking her tongue out saying nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, daring me to answer it. I wasn’t about to move and ruin my little toe masterpiece, so I let it go to voicemail. Besides, I already knew what I’d hear.
After five minutes passed and I felt absolutely certain the polish had dried, I got my phone and listened to the message.
“Stephanie, it’s Charlie. I’ll be a little late.”
He always ran late. I’d grown so accustomed to Charlie’s last minute calls and texts, I knew to pad on thirty minutes if we needed to be somewhere on time. But tonight he made the plans which included when he would pick me up.
I wondered what he had in store for us. He told me to dress up, we were doing something special. Charlie was big on surprises and since I liked to be surprised, we were getting along great. I liked him. A lot. Maybe I even more than liked him. Maybe I loved him. Maybe.
I heard a knock at my door. I knew, like a mind reader, before I could even get the words, “Who is it?” out of my mouth, Maria would walk in without waiting for a response.
“What’s up?” she asked flouncing in and plopping on the bed next to me.
“Not much,” I answered, hugging my knees to my chest.
“Waiting for Charlie?” she asked.
“Yep,” I smiled.
“Did you get everything you need for the prom?”
“Uh huh,” I nodded, “What about you?”
She nodded. “Picked up my shoes today. I can’t wait.” The last part came out in a high-pitched shriek. “Have you decided yet? Are you going to go through with it?”
Maria was referring to my sexual dilemma. While I cared very much for Charlie and we were barely able to keep our hands off each other, we still hadn’t gone all the way. And prom night being a cliché for first time sexual experiences, I had a decision to make.
Sometimes it made me feel like a freak. Everyone else did it. Even Maria. And she didn’t seem to have any regrets. Going all the way didn’t have the stigma my mother tried to convince me it did. At any rate, no
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