River Rat
Laundry
For the next couple of weeks, Ethan and I played random trivia games about ourselves. So far I'd learned that he loves dogs, his favorite color is red, he isn't really a sports fan (whereas I love hockey), and he's really a big video game nerd.
It was another normal day. I was just folding laundry when Ethan came in, with a huge smile on his admittedly cute face. I eyed him cautiously. He'd respected that I wanted to still remain acquaintances but right now I sense something different inside of him. The way he was using his body language kept me on my toes.
"Any reason you're smiling like a goof?" I asked, refocusing on the laundry in front of me.
"Nope," he replied. I could hear the grin in his voice, but I didn't dare turn around.
"Then what is your deal?"
"Turn around and I'll show you."
I sighed, but did as he said, curiosity winning the best of me. All I saw was a couple pieces of paper in his hand and I looked back to his face with a big question mark look.
"Here, look at them," he handed them over, still smiling. I took them from him, holding them carefully. They were pieces of notebook paper that looked very old and fragile. Then, my eyes found the neat and tidy handwriting that was so familiar to me.
"Mom," I whispered, brushing my fingers lightly over the paper.
"I found them in the garage. They were dated over 18 years ago. You're 18, right?" he asked and I nodded. "She must've written them to you when she was still pregnant with you."
I looked up at him. His cute, smiling face and his perfect, white teeth. I couldn't help myself. I put the papers down on the pile of laundry next to me and made a great leap into his arms. He caught me and I glimpsed a look of shock on his face. When the shock wore off, I felt him hug me back, my feet dangling inches from the floor.
"Thank you," I whispered before he set me back down.
"No problem," he replied, smiling at me. It wasn't until he stopped smiling that I realized I was crying. "Hey, it's okay," he soothed, leading me to sit on the bed with him. He pushed my hair away from my face, an action that made tingles run down my whole body and I had to hold in a gasp.
"I'm sorry," I said, half laughing."I cry a lot, don't I?"
"For good reason," Ethan smiled back worriedly.
We sat there in silence for a while, just enjoying each other's company. Suddenly, Ethan spoke again, "Can I ask one more question about you?" His voice was low, inviting. I couldn't help but inch closer to him.
"Yes," I replied breathlessly.
"Have you ever been kissed?"
"No."
He filled in the space between us easily and gracefully, but still allowing enough time for me to back out. I didn't want to back out. I really wanted to kiss him.
Our lips met and it was like nothing I'd ever experienced. He kept it slow and steady, but I wanted more. I made him aware of this urgency by putting my arms around his neck and pulling him ever so closer to me. I kept it slow anyway, and I inwardly sighed as I sped it up myself. He responded eagerly, making my heart leap.
He was the one to pull away and I bit my lip, trying to look semi-attractive. He got up quickly, mumbled a 'sorry', and walked away. It left me wondering if I did something wrong. If I wasn't a good enough kisser. I sighed and went back to my laundry, deciding that if he wanted to tell me, he would.
It was another normal day. I was just folding laundry when Ethan came in, with a huge smile on his admittedly cute face. I eyed him cautiously. He'd respected that I wanted to still remain acquaintances but right now I sense something different inside of him. The way he was using his body language kept me on my toes.
"Any reason you're smiling like a goof?" I asked, refocusing on the laundry in front of me.
"Nope," he replied. I could hear the grin in his voice, but I didn't dare turn around.
"Then what is your deal?"
"Turn around and I'll show you."
I sighed, but did as he said, curiosity winning the best of me. All I saw was a couple pieces of paper in his hand and I looked back to his face with a big question mark look.
"Here, look at them," he handed them over, still smiling. I took them from him, holding them carefully. They were pieces of notebook paper that looked very old and fragile. Then, my eyes found the neat and tidy handwriting that was so familiar to me.
"Mom," I whispered, brushing my fingers lightly over the paper.
"I found them in the garage. They were dated over 18 years ago. You're 18, right?" he asked and I nodded. "She must've written them to you when she was still pregnant with you."
I looked up at him. His cute, smiling face and his perfect, white teeth. I couldn't help myself. I put the papers down on the pile of laundry next to me and made a great leap into his arms. He caught me and I glimpsed a look of shock on his face. When the shock wore off, I felt him hug me back, my feet dangling inches from the floor.
"Thank you," I whispered before he set me back down.
"No problem," he replied, smiling at me. It wasn't until he stopped smiling that I realized I was crying. "Hey, it's okay," he soothed, leading me to sit on the bed with him. He pushed my hair away from my face, an action that made tingles run down my whole body and I had to hold in a gasp.
"I'm sorry," I said, half laughing."I cry a lot, don't I?"
"For good reason," Ethan smiled back worriedly.
We sat there in silence for a while, just enjoying each other's company. Suddenly, Ethan spoke again, "Can I ask one more question about you?" His voice was low, inviting. I couldn't help but inch closer to him.
"Yes," I replied breathlessly.
"Have you ever been kissed?"
"No."
He filled in the space between us easily and gracefully, but still allowing enough time for me to back out. I didn't want to back out. I really wanted to kiss him.
Our lips met and it was like nothing I'd ever experienced. He kept it slow and steady, but I wanted more. I made him aware of this urgency by putting my arms around his neck and pulling him ever so closer to me. I kept it slow anyway, and I inwardly sighed as I sped it up myself. He responded eagerly, making my heart leap.
He was the one to pull away and I bit my lip, trying to look semi-attractive. He got up quickly, mumbled a 'sorry', and walked away. It left me wondering if I did something wrong. If I wasn't a good enough kisser. I sighed and went back to my laundry, deciding that if he wanted to tell me, he would.