Thursday, August 11, 2016

The Front Steps


I looked down at my phone after the buzz. I hadn't heard from him in a while.

Are you ever going to write about me?

I thought about it for a moment. Should I tell him how much I already had written about him through the years? Did he want me to? Was he scared?


I texted back.

Eventually, yes. Is that okay?


His reply came swift.

YES! We were worth writing about.


Which got me thinking, what would I share and perfect that I had already jotted down? Would I ever share it? Would people figure out who I was writing about or would they simply appreciate the memory? I hoped for the latter.

.......................................................................................................................................................

We would talk all the time. We were both analytical. Even the smallest of subjects would take days to sort through. It was all just a way to put off how we were feeling. I'd act tough but I adored him. Everyone knew it too, except for him. He was clueless but also quite arrogant. I loved that. Because I also knew that arrogance was just pretend.

Despite my name being Grace, I've never been the most graceful. I trip daily. I have bruises from the unknown. But thanks to my extra-special balance and wobbly ankles, I fell into a moment with him. Walking up the concrete steps at my parents' house, I missed one and slid right into his side. And he didn't miss a beat, wrapping his right arm around me. Giggling, he whispered into my ear, "You're my best friend." 

I held on a little tighter than normal and turned my face to him. We were nearly the same height. "I know," I replied. And that's when he did it. All this time goofing around and walking on eggshells, this could have happened already.

He kissed me softly and I pulled away not out of instinct but out of surprise. This was a running theme in my string of first kisses. I made it weird and even more awkward. I said things aloud that I shouldn't say. But it didn't ruin anything with him.

I held my head back and squinted. "Did you really just do that," I asked.

"Was I not supposed to?" He was laughing at me again.

He knew me so well. We lingered a bit and my hands cupped his face. I traced his lips with my thumbs. Knowing that I wouldn't ever be gutsy enough to go in first, he went for it again. He taught me a lot of things, one being how to kiss and mean it.

"I'm not going to say that I've been waiting my entire life for that, but I've definitely been waiting for several months," he said through an ego-fueled smirk.

I was still waiting for him to soften completely with me. So I replied, "Well, now you'll have to wait just a little longer for the next," as I closed the front door behind me.


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