I think I might be falling for him.
Six Sixes
by Mercury
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CONTENTS
First Love …… 5 Prom Night …… 7 You …… 9 Summer Affairs …… 10 Kiss …… 12 Falling, or Fallen? …… 14 About the Author …… 15 3
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First Love When I was in seventh grade, the boy I was in love with gave me and my friends lollipops as an innocent Christmas gift. That day I had flirted with him even more then usual, and it took a remarkable amount of effort to not simply leap up and wrap my puffy-coatclad arms around him in an embrace of complete adoration to thank him for this simple gesture. I kept that lollipop for 5 months, dreaming of us together, as in real life we progressed from science partner acquaintances to inseparable friends, and every time I saw it pinned gently by the stick to my notice board, by heart swooped and sang and made squeaky noises of delight - he loved me, he gave me something, we must be meant to be! Then, at my best friends Bat Mitzvah party, I was hit by a speeding train - he was laughing with, snuggling with, in love with someone else. Choking, all of my body being repeatedly hit with a spike-encrusted mallet, I just about 5
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staggered through that party and then cried my way home, where I ripped the lollipop off my notice board, tore the wrapper away, and jerked it violently into my mouth. All these months of waiting, dreaming, and all I could taste was tears.
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Prom Night I asked him on a whim; we had been friends for so long I never thought he would agree to it datewise. But agree he certainly did, and after months of planning, when he helped me out of his '97 Blue Cadillac and waltzed into the ballroom with me on his arm, I felt like Cinderella - except this princess wasn't coming home at midnight. We crashed at his house after, us and a bunch of our mutual friends, after a night of dancing with eyes only for each other. There, he told me I was beautiful, even with mascara remnants in the corners of my eyes and once perfectly arranged locks sticky and grubby with hairspray, and in response my friends wolf-whistled and sang old songs about true love. To their delight, I then sat myself down next to him and entwined my legs with his as we watched Superbad (the boys revenge on having to wear those shiny black shoes all night has we boogied barefoot) but I fell asleep on his shoulder before it 7
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finished. When I woke up at 5:30 the next morning, he was lying spooned gently into me, his warm arms circling my waist and a look of total contentment on his sleeping face, so with great pleasure I snuggled back into him and fell asleep again, feeling sure that I now knew what it was like to be in love.
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You It's almost midnight, which will always be our time, even though I will probably never see you again and even if I could half of me is not sure I'd want to. But the other half winds her fingers through the shaggy carpet and remembers how you used to laugh when it was raining. When you first left, each little drop, each tiny splash, sent hot knives deep into my heart, but not so much anymore. It used to be that each knock on the door would send me flying; I thought I could open the door and there you'd be, back again. Now, I whisper old poetry under my breath and try to stop myself from reliving every moment, thinking back to every touch. It's becoming easier; after all, it was a long time ago.
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Summer Affairs The summer after fourth grade, I had a torrid affair with the boy next door. There was no romance in it, really, I was just an attention freak of a little girl and here was this boy just one year older, and we are friends and all, gosh, people seem to care and talk about couples a lot. That's how it started, anyway. How was I to know that soon we would be sneaking into the woods holding hands to kiss each other in the shelter of the trees, or to dangle our bare feet in the stream and talk about nothing? He pretended we were just friends when there were others around, but for some reason, when they left, he would happen to be wandering my yard, and I would happen to go outside, and our hands would happen to entwine, by chance pulling us down to underneath the green rustling leaves, where we would press our chapped lips together gently in a crescendo of prepubescent love. But then, many sweet kisses and forest sixsentences.blogspot.com
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journeys later, the summer ended and fall took its place, snatching away our fling and replacing it with reality and an awkward friendship that had no room for romance, leaving our summer thing floating, a taboo topic that still today remains unspoken.
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Kiss I had my first smooch stolen at the tender age of six, when my best friend Joshua, who, with his gorgeous shaggy brown hair and soft, inviting eyes, had always been a ladies man, fell on me and planted one on my shocked lips as we interpreted Sleeping Beauty in music class. My fellow first-graders gasped and giggled and said “ewww,” which, quite honestly, was what I had been thinking, but being a polite, naive, private-school girl I merely pushed him off gently, blushed, and never spoke of it again. My class was not the brightest bunch of God-brainwashed children, and they soon forgot the scandal, but I never did. I couldn't tell anyone, though, so Joshua continued coming over and giving me presents like nail polish and lotion, asking when we could have private celebrations (“Just us two, imagine that!”) for our birthdays and other holidays. I would suck in my cheeks nervously and change the subject, too shy to say anything that sixsentences.blogspot.com
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he might take offense to. Luckily for me, at the end of fourth grade I started going to a new school and completely lost contact with Joshua, but it upsets me that despite all the things he gave me, he also took something I can never get back: my first kiss.
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Falling, or Fallen? I think I might be falling for him. It would be good if I did - to like someone who likes you back, what a revolutionary concept. I just don't want to end up the girl with a boy she has just to have, or the girl who is in love with how much he loves her. I want to be one half of the couple in the corner, the couple who's so besotted they can't tear their eyes away from each other. The problem is, all the people I've ever been besotted with have never found it necessary to reciprocate the feeling. Could I love him, this loner, this ragamuffin with stars in his eyes, or am I doomed to live in this back room forever, giving "favors" to old men cheating on their wives?
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About the Author
6S Mercury is the closest planet to the sun (but she denies it if you ask her). She is rather ashamed of how slutty she was as a child.
Full 6S Catalog: sixsentences.blogspot.com/search?q=mercury Personal Page on the 6S Social Network: sixsentences.ning.com/profile/Mercury
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