Sweater Weather
one/one
The night was cold, but she'd forgotten her sweater in the car. Not the car she was on, obviously, but her car, which was parked in the middle of the mall parking lot. Maybe she did it by accident. When she had left for the night, her abuela couldn't help but comment on the weather.
"You should probably wear a sweater, hija, it's chilly."
She never really listened to her though. She used to tell her to take a sweater during hot summer nights. For her Cuban grandma, 80 degrees was too cold to go out without a sweater, so she'd drape a cardigan over her forearm to appease the old woman and leave it on her passenger side seat, forgotten for the night.
She brought the joint to lips and sucked, coughing a little as she released the smoke. Her free hand had been rubbing her bare arm, trying to cure the goosebumps.
"You must be frozen."
Or maybe she did do it on purpose.
Her eyes met his as she passed the joint. Her head felt dizzy and she didn't know if it was the weed or his eyes. His hand rubbed her shoulder, warm and intoxicating, and she leaned into it.
"I should've brought a sweater." She smiled sweetly, sucking in her lower lip and digging her teeth into in. "Who knew it'd be so chilly?" She giggled.
She knew. Her abuela had told her.
He laughs and shrugs off his jacket and pulls it over her shoulder.
Jackpot.
“Here, you need it more than me,” he says as she pulls her arms through the jacket sleeves, “just remember to give it back, yea?”
She nods, pulling it over her head and relishing in the scent of him.
He smelled of sandalwood, chlorine, and weed; of summertimes spent swimming in pools.
He threw the dead roach out into the forest in front of them and unlocked the car.
“Come on, let’s go. We have to pick up Tasha before we head to the party. I think tonight’s the night.”
She deflated. Oh yea, Tasha. Wonderful, magical, exciting Tasha.
She reminds herself that she is not Tasha, she will never be Tasha.
Tasha wasn’t witty like her or had a sense of humor like her. But Tasha had boobs. And Tasha knew what guys like him wanted. She would never be his.
In the end, she tells him she lost his jacket at the party they went to. She went home with Rachel anyway, so he didn’t see her when she left. After a little bit of bitching, he forgives her, like she didn’t know this from the beginning.
She keeps it in the back of her closet.
She forgets her sweater the next weekend, even though her abuela told her.
"You should probably wear a sweater, hija, it's chilly."
She never really listened to her though. She used to tell her to take a sweater during hot summer nights. For her Cuban grandma, 80 degrees was too cold to go out without a sweater, so she'd drape a cardigan over her forearm to appease the old woman and leave it on her passenger side seat, forgotten for the night.
She brought the joint to lips and sucked, coughing a little as she released the smoke. Her free hand had been rubbing her bare arm, trying to cure the goosebumps.
"You must be frozen."
Or maybe she did do it on purpose.
Her eyes met his as she passed the joint. Her head felt dizzy and she didn't know if it was the weed or his eyes. His hand rubbed her shoulder, warm and intoxicating, and she leaned into it.
"I should've brought a sweater." She smiled sweetly, sucking in her lower lip and digging her teeth into in. "Who knew it'd be so chilly?" She giggled.
She knew. Her abuela had told her.
He laughs and shrugs off his jacket and pulls it over her shoulder.
Jackpot.
“Here, you need it more than me,” he says as she pulls her arms through the jacket sleeves, “just remember to give it back, yea?”
She nods, pulling it over her head and relishing in the scent of him.
He smelled of sandalwood, chlorine, and weed; of summertimes spent swimming in pools.
He threw the dead roach out into the forest in front of them and unlocked the car.
“Come on, let’s go. We have to pick up Tasha before we head to the party. I think tonight’s the night.”
She deflated. Oh yea, Tasha. Wonderful, magical, exciting Tasha.
She reminds herself that she is not Tasha, she will never be Tasha.
Tasha wasn’t witty like her or had a sense of humor like her. But Tasha had boobs. And Tasha knew what guys like him wanted. She would never be his.
In the end, she tells him she lost his jacket at the party they went to. She went home with Rachel anyway, so he didn’t see her when she left. After a little bit of bitching, he forgives her, like she didn’t know this from the beginning.
She keeps it in the back of her closet.
She forgets her sweater the next weekend, even though her abuela told her.
♠ ♠ ♠
I wrote this for my creative writing class, I figured I should share it. let me know what you guys think.