Medical Emergency

History

Me: I don't understand. We're friends, I know. But you're going to college two hours away, so I'll never see you.

Him<3: Yes you will. I'll be home every Wednesday night and I don't leave till Friday morning. Then I'll be home some Saturday's and Sunday's, maybe.

Me: Okay? But you go stay at your moms, you don't come here.

Him<3: I'll still see you though! I'm not going anywhere.

He makes me feel like we're more than just friends. But I'm 16 and he's almost 20. He's told me over and over we're just friends. But I don't want to be just that, I want more. I'm begging for more. It's always the same response, "when you're older and you've experienced life. That's when we'll be together." But his actions show something different. 

Like the night that summer, I went to the drive-in's with my friends. I unknowingly, left my composite notebook on my nightstand. When I got home, he was gone. But I noticed it was still there, a pen on top. I open it, full of poems I read either in books or ones I make up myself. I notice, somewhere in the middle, a page is turned in the corner. In the empty pages, a full written one, a letter. 

Today is Thursday. You're at the drive-in's. I want to date you. I want you to be MY girlfriend but doing so now would be selfish. You should be free to grow as a person into college like I did. I really, really hope we can date next year. It would be hard, but that doesn't matter to me. Who knows when you'll find this. I guess it doesn't really matter. I don't really explain myself or feelings a lot, maybe it's because I was raised that way. My mother always had more important things to worry about then how I felt so I didn't want to bother her. And obviously the entire "Jess" fiasco made me a little withdrawn from my emotions. But there are so many things I like about you. The way you talk, what you're driven to do. You're easy to talk to. I tell you to date other people but god does it kill me to do so. It's harder to say each and every time. And my mouth gets dry just thinking about it. PART of me hopes you find this. 

Me: Found your letter. 

Him<3: oh.

Me: Oh? 

Him<3: Yeah, I wrote it in there when I found it. I read somethings. Don't be mad. 

Me: I'm not mad. I'm confused. You make no sense. 

Him<3: I'll see you tomorrow. 

I read it over and over. The words burning into my memory. They still are. I could barely sleep that night. Thinking about everything. Sometimes I wish I never met him, other times, I wish we could leave together and never come back. Start over in some town. But I'm only 16 and he's 20, why would he even want me? My face isn't clear, my body isn't skinny or lean, my eyeliner is never right, my hair frizzes out all the time. I'm not the girl he should be with. He deserves someone prettier, smarter, better. 

I hear a the front door open, his shoes sit by the door as he walks in. He meets my eye on the couch and sits. "How are you?" He asks casually. "Good, got home from practice not too long ago." My mom's in the kitchen cooking, Mia's still at school, no one else is home yet. He pulls the blankets over us on the couch, pulling my legs over his, his fingers tickle my thighs innocently. Finding my hand, he holds it under the blanket. Secretive, always secretive. 

~

We clean up from dinner, putting the dishes in the sink. My mom and dad head off to their room, watching some movie. Everyones in their rooms doing homework or watching tv. I wonder off into my upstairs bedroom, the highest point of the house, my own little sanctuary. I don't notice that he follows, tracing my body with his eyes behind me. I don't see him but I feel them on me. My shorts hanging off my hips, short enough to just barely show my butt and t-shirt tucked in the front. I walk into my room, pretending not to notice that he's behind me still. Rummaging through my clothes to find something to wear for bed. I keep my eyes away, not turning around even once. Taking my shirt and tossing it to the floor, pulling a large hoodie over my head, my bare back to him. I feel his eye trace my body, down my shoulders and spine. I finally turn to face him, he smiles and walks back downstairs. That's it? Nothing else? He's not gonna push me onto the bed, kissing me and tugging at my shorts? I've been begging, my body has been begging. I haven't had any feelings like this before, let alone have anyone touch me. Virgin eyes and virgin skin, never been touched.