Status: active
You Felt Alive
1/3
I don't think that we were in love, I just loved you. It was the one thing about us that wasn't a joint act, because you and I were always we, and everyone knew it. We came as a package deal – it was always Mac and Sam, or Sam and Mac, there was always an “and”.
People say that teenagers don't know what love is, because love is not love if you're seventeen. I call bullshit right off the bat, because I knew that I loved you. I knew it with the rooms of my hair to my toes.
You were beautiful to me. I memorized every word you said and every move you made like my life depended on it, like I was going to put on a play for you to prove my devotion.
You didn't want anyone to know you were gay. The most intimate thing that ever came out of your mouth was one early Saturday morning, when you balked after I said my traditional “I love you Mac.” Instead of just getting out of my bed silently like every other Saturday, you leaned in and pressed your lips to my ear and whispered. “You know I only do this with you.” In your own way I knew you were telling me that I was special.
I consoled my self with those eight words whenever I needed. Like when the New Girl showed up without warning.
It was second period honors calc and New Girl marched in unannounced. Her tights were ripped and her hair was a mess and she wore bright red lipstick that looked a little smudged above her upper lip. She sat at the back of the room, and at first, you didn't give her a second glance.
“Where do you guys smoke cigs around here?” she said it in the lunch line. Mac was behind me, and she was in front of me, and I sensed him jump to attention.
“Come with us,” he said.
She said her name was Madison. Next thing I knew, we were headed out to our secret lunch place, past the bleachers. He stopped and sat cross legged on the ground of the abandoned basketball court like he always did, and lit up a cigarette (even though it was a nasty habit I would never fall into, I even loved the way he smoked.)
There was something broken about this place now. My serenity had been shattered by this girl who was lighting up a newport with the butt of Mac's cigarette. The nerve.
It was all down hill from there. The turning point came about a month later when I found myself waiting in my dads truck outside a convenience store at the far side of town. I bit my fingernails and watched for Mac and Madison in the rear view mirror. Fuck, even their names sounded good together. Once upon a time, I didn't think anything sounded better than Mac and Sam.
There was a sound of a door flying open loudly, and Mac and Madison were booking it across the parking lot, their sweatshirts bulging.
“Drive dude, drive!” Mac yelled. He wasn't even all the way in the car, and Madison had leaped into the back.
“Wait, what?”
“JUST GO” Mac's foot crushed mine as he tried to step on the gas. The car lurched forward and as we were driving away, someone ran from the store, shaking his fist and yelling obscenities.
My hands shook at the wheel, and I could hear Mac and Madison cackling in the back. I stopped the car at Madison's house to let her out, and to my surprise Mac got out with her. “What are you doing?” I asked, trying to mask the hurt in my tone. Mac leaned in my window, “We'll hang out later.” he said quickly, giving me a half smile.
“But it's Saturday,” I said weakly, and he turned to look back at me.
“I know! Later, I promise.”
I stepped hard on the gas pedal and peeled out of her driveway. I hoped I could run over his foot with the tires. Later , I promise. I knew I could hold him to his word, because he was the one who dedicated Saturday nights to our most precious moments alone.
People say that teenagers don't know what love is, because love is not love if you're seventeen. I call bullshit right off the bat, because I knew that I loved you. I knew it with the rooms of my hair to my toes.
You were beautiful to me. I memorized every word you said and every move you made like my life depended on it, like I was going to put on a play for you to prove my devotion.
You didn't want anyone to know you were gay. The most intimate thing that ever came out of your mouth was one early Saturday morning, when you balked after I said my traditional “I love you Mac.” Instead of just getting out of my bed silently like every other Saturday, you leaned in and pressed your lips to my ear and whispered. “You know I only do this with you.” In your own way I knew you were telling me that I was special.
I consoled my self with those eight words whenever I needed. Like when the New Girl showed up without warning.
It was second period honors calc and New Girl marched in unannounced. Her tights were ripped and her hair was a mess and she wore bright red lipstick that looked a little smudged above her upper lip. She sat at the back of the room, and at first, you didn't give her a second glance.
“Where do you guys smoke cigs around here?” she said it in the lunch line. Mac was behind me, and she was in front of me, and I sensed him jump to attention.
“Come with us,” he said.
She said her name was Madison. Next thing I knew, we were headed out to our secret lunch place, past the bleachers. He stopped and sat cross legged on the ground of the abandoned basketball court like he always did, and lit up a cigarette (even though it was a nasty habit I would never fall into, I even loved the way he smoked.)
There was something broken about this place now. My serenity had been shattered by this girl who was lighting up a newport with the butt of Mac's cigarette. The nerve.
It was all down hill from there. The turning point came about a month later when I found myself waiting in my dads truck outside a convenience store at the far side of town. I bit my fingernails and watched for Mac and Madison in the rear view mirror. Fuck, even their names sounded good together. Once upon a time, I didn't think anything sounded better than Mac and Sam.
There was a sound of a door flying open loudly, and Mac and Madison were booking it across the parking lot, their sweatshirts bulging.
“Drive dude, drive!” Mac yelled. He wasn't even all the way in the car, and Madison had leaped into the back.
“Wait, what?”
“JUST GO” Mac's foot crushed mine as he tried to step on the gas. The car lurched forward and as we were driving away, someone ran from the store, shaking his fist and yelling obscenities.
My hands shook at the wheel, and I could hear Mac and Madison cackling in the back. I stopped the car at Madison's house to let her out, and to my surprise Mac got out with her. “What are you doing?” I asked, trying to mask the hurt in my tone. Mac leaned in my window, “We'll hang out later.” he said quickly, giving me a half smile.
“But it's Saturday,” I said weakly, and he turned to look back at me.
“I know! Later, I promise.”
I stepped hard on the gas pedal and peeled out of her driveway. I hoped I could run over his foot with the tires. Later , I promise. I knew I could hold him to his word, because he was the one who dedicated Saturday nights to our most precious moments alone.