Her voice lured me, her smile paralyzed me, and her personality killed me. It had only been a week since I first landed a job at banana republic and the first day on I saw her. She was dressed in a maroon red skirt with a white top and black boots and there I stood. Nervous as I was, I brushed it aside. It was my first day on the job and I couldn’t help eyeing my coworker. For crying out loud I need to be professional. But she was so beautiful, everything from her brown hair with golden streaks to her waist all the way down to her long legs. Damn those legs got me. My heart rushed as we walked pass each other and I couldn’t help but smile at her pretty but yet so unfamiliar face. But then we met, I greeted her maybe too formally as I reached out shaking her hand and smiling all out of nervousness. At this moment all I could think was how much I wanted her. Of how much I wanted to conquer her. But it wasn’t time, soon after she had to leave back to school in Oregon.
There she stood as I walked into work, doing her little twirl and her little hand wave. God that little hand wave killed me. The sweetest and yet most alluring thing. For days all I thought was about how nice and sexy she was. But on that particular day as she left work and I was on my break, I was able to grab a quick bite to eat with her as well as her number and text her for that week forward. Oh the joy that the little pleasures in life gave me. I was so whipped.
She was marvelous as we sat there eating. We kept the conversation going, nothing too deep, and nothing too personal. Discussion about school, our separate and unparalleled futures and our coworkers as we ate. When we left, as any other teen would, we went out and smoked, not the unhealthy kind but mother natures greens and chatted and talked about ourselves. Hours passed as we enjoyed each other’s company talking about our lives. She had boyfriends and experiences and so have I. Each of us had hearts broken and feelings shattered. And we just sat there in her car sharing and reminiscing. Later in the night I struggling to find the courage to reach in and just ravage her. She sat there so tempting and provoking until I finally decided and went. Everything was quiet, no sound besides the breathing as we closed our eyes and touched our lips. Time flew and clothes were thrown off as I sat there thinking. Thinking about my morals. I promised myself that I would only have sex with those that I loved and those who meant something to me. But there I stood breaking that promise. A convict of my own law. Guilty of my crime. But the sweetness of her was overwhelming and she lured me. Hours passed and we would’ve stayed there talking and chatting. It felt like we had all the time in the world between us. That is until security came by breaking through our protective layer of fog in the car. By that time it was 3am.
The next couple of days were crazy. With her coming over when my parents left for the whole day to seeing her at night after we were already tired from working and seeing friends. She intrigued me. She had a past and a deep one too. Never would I have thought that she would have a history so provoking and heart throbbing. One night after work I picked her up from a party. Drunk and horny as she was I didn’t know what would happen that night besides my originally theory of getting myself laid that night that is. But what happened surprised me. I hated the idea of someone driving under the influence and so I picked her up and got her to sober up. Later that night we drove to her house and she snuck me in. I thought she was fine, perfectly capable to take care of herself. That was until I notice she was throwing up. I sat there with her as she threw up downstairs until we heard the thundering footsteps of her dad. Paralyzed I hid, Hid in her laundry room. Eternal silence. As she came back in, I knew that tonight would not be what I expected. She sat there with me full of rage. Rage for her dad being critical. Rage for her dad for being a hypocritical ass. Coming home drunk at 1am was the story for tonight. The typical story for any indolence here. But as we sat there she opened up. She discussed about her past. About her family. About a secret. I sat there in silence mesmerized. Pulled and destroyed about what she told me. About the sacrifice her mother made with her father and the secret she knew. A mother’s sacrifice for her daughter. How her childhood was all just a cover up for this secret. How the past 16 years of her life was just a lie. Just a pretty blanket that covered the mess it hid. So she drinks and smokes, to relieve that pain and to come back “home”. But what is really home when you don’t even feel like you belong rather it is just a place for you to sleep. When you hate the very people you were supposed to love growing up. About being betrayed for the past 16 years. That night I knew I was going to miss her. I was going to miss talking, relating, and thinking with her. She knew it too and everything changed.
Her favorite movie was “Stuck in Love”. The movie I cried to, the very same movie that I loved. And I could see why it was her favorite, you see, people who are hurt will never show you or tell you that their terrified. That they are hurting. That they are in pain. Instead we block out those emotions and those feelings and we create a mask and we wear it for the world to see. Our biggest challenge was to take off that mask and to face each other. Samantha was scared. Scared of falling in love. Scared of being hurt. I was afraid of admitting it. Scared of rejection. Scared of disproval. That’s why we make the choices that we do that is why we make stupid choices because we are afraid of making the right one, scared of reaching out. So we grab on to something that we know wouldn’t hurt us.
I can’t deny it. Not even now. That during that short time we had between us that feelings grew. I wanted this girl. I wanted to call her mine. But she told me “she doesn’t do relationships.” And so I bottled my feelings and threw it out in the ocean with a letter. A letter of how I feel and as I threw that bottle, I put my mask on. A mask that says “everything is ok”. Of course we can’t plan everything in our lives. Of course spontaneous things will happen. But that is the essence of life. It’s spontaneous. I could never have predicted that I would commit my own crime. I could have never predicted that I would like another person so much that I would buy her a present and wait hours outside so that I could give it to her just before she left. I would never have thought that I would be sad when she left. I guess I also discovered that there is a humane side of me. A side where I just don’t want to sleep with girls, but a side where I want to love and to be loved back. Isn’t that what everyone wants?
This is going to be the cap of the story. A story about the girl who I did not tell my feelings to. A story where it was not the right time. A story where there was not enough time.
And there she stood, S.A.L.