3 Quarters in my pocket
I’m not avoiding that barrier.
“I’m going now.” She moved in to hug me.
“I’ll go with you.” I said as I let her hug me.
“Oh, ok.” She sounded cheery. The butterfly came to my stomach again. Would she like it? Would it spook her? I didn’t know. But I had to try. As we walked into the main hall, students swarmed about us, and I slipped my arm around hers, and she willingly pulled it closer.
We walked a little ways down the middle of the hall.
“This feels good.” She said.
“Does it?” I knew the answer to that question.
“Yeah…it does.” Many students flowed around the two of us. She smiled, and my heart beamed like a light bulb among fireflies.
She leaned against the wall, and slid down, sitting softly propped up against the wall. I slid down next to her and edged up nearer to her. We locked arms again. Time passed and I looked out the window. She laid her head on my shoulder. I decided here was the opportune time to hold her. I shifted her sideways and slid my arms around her neck, propping her against me. We both stared out the window in front of us, and I buried my face in her hair. She sighed. After awhile, she turned a little and spoke to me.
“Do you think we will ever get bored of this?”
I waited awhile before replying.
“God…. I hope not.”
I gazed out the window, but I can’t remember what I saw. All I can remember is the smell of her hair.
Tara laid down the phone and called out to me across the store.
“Spence! It’s for you!”
“What sex is the caller?” I routinely ask this question. I always hope that it’s female.
When it’s a female, I always hope that it’s her.
But there was something different about her voice this time. It was soft, and a little broken, and sobs interrupted her speech.
She was crying.
“....” she groaned my name.
“Wha-what is it, honey? What’s wrong? Are you ok?”
“When are you going to be home?” She always dodged my questions.
“Honey, I… what….” I sighed briefly, and continued. “Soon. I’ll be home soon, I promise. Ok?” She sniffed on the other end of the line. After a brief pause, she spoke softly again.
“Ok? You gonna be ok? I’ll call you as soon as I get home. Ok?” I was worried. She never cried.
“I’ll be back soon.”
I hung up the phone and looked around apprehensively. Missy was doing fountain, and Tara was busy mopping.
I never finished my jobs so quickly.
I think my boss was a little irritated I left in such a hurry. I don’t care. He doesn’t pay me enough to care. I rushed through the door and ran as quickly as I could through the mile to my house. My lungs burned, and I felt queasy. I didn’t care. Some things are more important. I burst through the door of my house and rushed upstairs. I frantically eyed my room for the phone. I found it, looked up her number, and dialing the number, collapsed on the floor.
I laid on the couch, propped against her shoulder and clutching her hand tightly. She continued to stroke my hand, and I appreciated that, since her touch always soothed me. I was beginning to feel overwhelmed by love, for it controlled my whole being. I shifted positions, leaned up across her shoulder, and I felt her lips so close to me….
I couldn’t help it. I leaned in and kissed her.
My lips hovered near hers for a moment, and I kissed her again. I whispered, through barely parted lips…
“…I love you…”
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I asked my ex to give this to me after we broke up.