Just Us
2007
You said we would just drive until we ran out of gas. It was fine with me; I would've jumped from the county water tower if you had asked. You were only a year older but sometimes you felt decades ahead of me. Not that day, though. That hot summer day you were right beside me, drumming on the steering wheel to the beat of whatever song was on the radio. I wanted to reach over and run my hand over your short fuzzy hair that always reminded me of a baby penguin... but I didn't want to disturb our serenity.
As luck would have it, the instant that the gas light came on, a gas station popped up around the bend of the road. You parked the truck at the gas pump and I looked across the street at one of the largest orange groves I'd ever seen. The heat and lighting of the day gave it an alluring look, almost sensual if an orange grove could be described as such.
Before I knew it, I was climbing out of the truck and crossing the deserted road. From the other side, you were looking at me with a smile on your face. Completely abandoning your truck, you followed me into the grove. We ran circles around each other and it felt just like an elementary school recess break.
Until you disappeared.
I called out your name and my frolicking turned quickly into a desperate run.
"Alex!" I yelled. "ALEX!"
The grove was big enough to hide Narnia and I sank to my knees, a dark and saddening feeling growing in my gut. Suddenly two hands covered my eyes from behind. "Guess who."
I jerked away from you and felt a hot tear slide down my cheek as I pounded my ineffectual fists on your chest. "Alejandro Ramon Miguel Navarro! I hate you! I hate you!"
You stilled my fists and smiled gently. "No you don't."
I was still pouting as you used a thumb to dry my eyes. You took my hand and smiled again before leading me through rows upon rows of giant orange trees. I saw a familiar blanket laid out just out of the shade of the nearby trees. You sat me down and turned to pick us two oranges. I watched you peel one and break it in half. I took the half you offered and completely forgot why I had been upset just a minute ago. The orange was juicy and tart and perfect. We finished off the second orange in a similar fashion and I found myself desperately wanting a wet wipe for my hands. Before I could complain, you grabbed my hand and drew my index finger into your mouth.
My eyes widened and though I was frozen with shock, I could feel my heart pounding so hard, I thought it would fly right out of my chest. I was only sixteen and my experience with guys ended at French kissing. You were college bound though; you were almost eighteen and I knew you'd had a few girlfriends in the past.
Your kisses had moved from my fingers to the inside of my wrist and then the crook of my elbow before I finally blinked and took a breath. My lips moved but no words came out. I wasn't sure what I wanted to say.
"Should I stop?" you asked, looking at me intently with your hazel eyes.
I took a deep breath in an attempt to calm the butterflies in my stomach. I shook my head. "Will... Will you kiss me?"
You put a sticky hand on my cheek and I closed my eyes as our faces drew closer. Your lips were firm but gentle, sweet and perfect. Your tongue slid out in search of mine and our orange-flavored kiss grew heated. Somehow I wound up in your lap and your t-shirt wound up in the grass.
In the movies, they make a girl's first time seem magical and painless and romantic but that wasn't quite true in reality. The hard ground hurt my back and you were pushing into a place that made me hurt in a different way; it was as wet as it was unyielding. You kept asking if I was okay and I knew you meant to be gentle but it really wasn't until after you pulled out that the romantic part happened; you let me curl up beside you and toyed with my curls while planting butterfly kisses on my face. "It'll be better next time," you said.
I tried to hide my smile in your armpit. There would be a next time, I kept saying to myself. Ten years ago, you had been ignoring my very existence, preferring to play games with my older brother. Even three years ago, I couldn't have guessed that day in the orange grove would've happened. As the sun warmed our naked bodies, I knew I would never love anyone but you.
As luck would have it, the instant that the gas light came on, a gas station popped up around the bend of the road. You parked the truck at the gas pump and I looked across the street at one of the largest orange groves I'd ever seen. The heat and lighting of the day gave it an alluring look, almost sensual if an orange grove could be described as such.
Before I knew it, I was climbing out of the truck and crossing the deserted road. From the other side, you were looking at me with a smile on your face. Completely abandoning your truck, you followed me into the grove. We ran circles around each other and it felt just like an elementary school recess break.
Until you disappeared.
I called out your name and my frolicking turned quickly into a desperate run.
"Alex!" I yelled. "ALEX!"
The grove was big enough to hide Narnia and I sank to my knees, a dark and saddening feeling growing in my gut. Suddenly two hands covered my eyes from behind. "Guess who."
I jerked away from you and felt a hot tear slide down my cheek as I pounded my ineffectual fists on your chest. "Alejandro Ramon Miguel Navarro! I hate you! I hate you!"
You stilled my fists and smiled gently. "No you don't."
I was still pouting as you used a thumb to dry my eyes. You took my hand and smiled again before leading me through rows upon rows of giant orange trees. I saw a familiar blanket laid out just out of the shade of the nearby trees. You sat me down and turned to pick us two oranges. I watched you peel one and break it in half. I took the half you offered and completely forgot why I had been upset just a minute ago. The orange was juicy and tart and perfect. We finished off the second orange in a similar fashion and I found myself desperately wanting a wet wipe for my hands. Before I could complain, you grabbed my hand and drew my index finger into your mouth.
My eyes widened and though I was frozen with shock, I could feel my heart pounding so hard, I thought it would fly right out of my chest. I was only sixteen and my experience with guys ended at French kissing. You were college bound though; you were almost eighteen and I knew you'd had a few girlfriends in the past.
Your kisses had moved from my fingers to the inside of my wrist and then the crook of my elbow before I finally blinked and took a breath. My lips moved but no words came out. I wasn't sure what I wanted to say.
"Should I stop?" you asked, looking at me intently with your hazel eyes.
I took a deep breath in an attempt to calm the butterflies in my stomach. I shook my head. "Will... Will you kiss me?"
You put a sticky hand on my cheek and I closed my eyes as our faces drew closer. Your lips were firm but gentle, sweet and perfect. Your tongue slid out in search of mine and our orange-flavored kiss grew heated. Somehow I wound up in your lap and your t-shirt wound up in the grass.
In the movies, they make a girl's first time seem magical and painless and romantic but that wasn't quite true in reality. The hard ground hurt my back and you were pushing into a place that made me hurt in a different way; it was as wet as it was unyielding. You kept asking if I was okay and I knew you meant to be gentle but it really wasn't until after you pulled out that the romantic part happened; you let me curl up beside you and toyed with my curls while planting butterfly kisses on my face. "It'll be better next time," you said.
I tried to hide my smile in your armpit. There would be a next time, I kept saying to myself. Ten years ago, you had been ignoring my very existence, preferring to play games with my older brother. Even three years ago, I couldn't have guessed that day in the orange grove would've happened. As the sun warmed our naked bodies, I knew I would never love anyone but you.