been...four years. Four freaking years! It was time. And I’m glad Ace was the
one.
Will it hurt when he goes? Yes.
Will he go right away? I don’t believe he
will. I think he and I are gonna do at least a little bit more of
what we just did before he leaves. Why? Because I turn him on. I
know I do. I don’t know why I do, but I do.
And that makes me confident. Right now, right
here, I’m confident. And confidence is something a person needs,
like little insulin shots for a diabetic. Vitamin shots for a
depleted body. The Energy Drink of Life.
Confidence. I’ve needed my shot for too long
now.
Four years.
I know he’ll get sick of me, when he sees
girls with tighter asses, tighter boobs, thinner thighs. I know it.
But for now, I’ll ride this wave. I’ll ride this confidence wave as
far as I can take it.
The day we spent together today was amazing.
We laughed. He pushed me into the fountain outside the city hall
and I was lucky I just missed getting wet! He took funny photos of
me. I took funny photos of him. We rode past a couple playing
Frisbee and stole their Frisbee and rode away on our bikes and got
sworn at by them.
I had fun. I had friend fun. And now
it’s progressed to more than that.
A girl can dream. A girl can pretend. I knew
I was pretending when he touched me. I know he’ll go. But this time
I made a choice. When I was with Brett, I’d had no choice. And
that’s what’s different. I knew what I was getting into this time,
no illusions, just living in the moment. And knowing the moment
will end.
“Don’t feel pressurized to stay,” I say.
He frowns. I straighten my dress, pull my
underwear back into place (front and back!)
“Promise me something,” I tell him. “When you
want to leave, don’t stop talking to me. I’m not clingy. But don’t
do that.”
He frowns even more seriously.
“Promise me!” I demand.
He hesitates. Then, “O—OK. I...promise.”
“You promise what?”
“That—that I won’t stop talking to you.”
I smile widely. “I’m not clingy, Ace. And I know I’m not the sexiest girl—”
“Gin—”
I stop him with my hand. “Let me finish. I know I’m not the sexiest girl in the world—”
“You’re wrong.”
“—so just don’t get all macho and shit when
you realize it for yourself.”
“You’re wrong.”
I shake my head, frustrated. “Ace, whatever.
You don’t need to play to my ego. I’m a big girl.” I realize the
awkward pun in that too late... “Just, treat me with respect when
you leave, OK?”
He waits.
“Ace?”
“You assume I’ll leave.”
I cock an eyebrow. “ You said you
couldn’t promise me you’d stay.”
He looks way. Caught out. “But it’s not
because of you that I can’t stay. It’s—”
He doesn’t finish. On my right, his left,
coming up the stairs, is a man. He smiles at us when he gets to the
top. We smile back, shifting slightly away from each other. You
ever get that feeling when you just know someone’s been
making out? Ace and I were standing really close, and I know this
dude knows what we were up to.
Ace whispers. “It’s not because of you that I’ll leave. It’s—”
“Shhh. It’s OK. I don’t need to know why.
Just...give me warning, OK? I understand you have...issues.” I look
at his swelling eye. My hand moves up to it and I hover my finger
just above it, not wanting to press the bluing area. “I get that. I
also have issues. Let’s respect each other. If you wanna tell me
about them, tell me. If you don’t, don’t. But you need to let me
know before you leave. Don’t just split without saying goodbye. And
if you ever pass through town, say hello, have a honey whiskey with
me. Don’t ignore me, OK?”
“I’d never do that.”
I shake my head. People promise lots of
things in the heat of the moment. Looking at his boots—the boots
he’s been riding a pink bicycle with all day!—I say, “Ace, let’s be
real. We’re not teenagers. And if you wanna end
one.
Will it hurt when he goes? Yes.
Will he go right away? I don’t believe he
will. I think he and I are gonna do at least a little bit more of
what we just did before he leaves. Why? Because I turn him on. I
know I do. I don’t know why I do, but I do.
And that makes me confident. Right now, right
here, I’m confident. And confidence is something a person needs,
like little insulin shots for a diabetic. Vitamin shots for a
depleted body. The Energy Drink of Life.
Confidence. I’ve needed my shot for too long
now.
Four years.
I know he’ll get sick of me, when he sees
girls with tighter asses, tighter boobs, thinner thighs. I know it.
But for now, I’ll ride this wave. I’ll ride this confidence wave as
far as I can take it.
The day we spent together today was amazing.
We laughed. He pushed me into the fountain outside the city hall
and I was lucky I just missed getting wet! He took funny photos of
me. I took funny photos of him. We rode past a couple playing
Frisbee and stole their Frisbee and rode away on our bikes and got
sworn at by them.
I had fun. I had friend fun. And now
it’s progressed to more than that.
A girl can dream. A girl can pretend. I knew
I was pretending when he touched me. I know he’ll go. But this time
I made a choice. When I was with Brett, I’d had no choice. And
that’s what’s different. I knew what I was getting into this time,
no illusions, just living in the moment. And knowing the moment
will end.
“Don’t feel pressurized to stay,” I say.
He frowns. I straighten my dress, pull my
underwear back into place (front and back!)
“Promise me something,” I tell him. “When you
want to leave, don’t stop talking to me. I’m not clingy. But don’t
do that.”
He frowns even more seriously.
“Promise me!” I demand.
He hesitates. Then, “O—OK. I...promise.”
“You promise what?”
“That—that I won’t stop talking to you.”
I smile widely. “I’m not clingy, Ace. And I know I’m not the sexiest girl—”
“Gin—”
I stop him with my hand. “Let me finish. I know I’m not the sexiest girl in the world—”
“You’re wrong.”
“—so just don’t get all macho and shit when
you realize it for yourself.”
“You’re wrong.”
I shake my head, frustrated. “Ace, whatever.
You don’t need to play to my ego. I’m a big girl.” I realize the
awkward pun in that too late... “Just, treat me with respect when
you leave, OK?”
He waits.
“Ace?”
“You assume I’ll leave.”
I cock an eyebrow. “ You said you
couldn’t promise me you’d stay.”
He looks way. Caught out. “But it’s not
because of you that I can’t stay. It’s—”
He doesn’t finish. On my right, his left,
coming up the stairs, is a man. He smiles at us when he gets to the
top. We smile back, shifting slightly away from each other. You
ever get that feeling when you just know someone’s been
making out? Ace and I were standing really close, and I know this
dude knows what we were up to.
Ace whispers. “It’s not because of you that I’ll leave. It’s—”
“Shhh. It’s OK. I don’t need to know why.
Just...give me warning, OK? I understand you have...issues.” I look
at his swelling eye. My hand moves up to it and I hover my finger
just above it, not wanting to press the bluing area. “I get that. I
also have issues. Let’s respect each other. If you wanna tell me
about them, tell me. If you don’t, don’t. But you need to let me
know before you leave. Don’t just split without saying goodbye. And
if you ever pass through town, say hello, have a honey whiskey with
me. Don’t ignore me, OK?”
“I’d never do that.”
I shake my head. People promise lots of
things in the heat of the moment. Looking at his boots—the boots
he’s been riding a pink bicycle with all day!—I say, “Ace, let’s be
real. We’re not teenagers. And if you wanna end
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