“Why are you scared?” he said to her. “Why are you scared? Why not just take the risk?”
“I don’t want to tell you.”
“Why?” The man is impatient. There was a time where he would hit people if he got upset. However, he would never hit a girl, no matter the circumstances. He wasn’t sexist, he just…couldn’t believe himself to be cruel.
“Oh, I really like this song.” She always changes the subject when she gets nervous. She wants the man to touch her, caress her, kiss her, but she gets nervous whenever someone gets close…more so with this man.
“I do too.” The man knows when she doesn’t want to talk about something. He can see it in her eyes. He knows her.
“I wanna dance.”
They dance together, the woman running around the room trying, but not wanting, to keep herself away from the man. The dog barks as they move, sliding and falling onto chairs and the floor. They both smile at each other as they get closer, standing in front of each other, so close that her hair touches his arm. The joy in their eyes is insurmountable. It’s not love, but the feeling of knowing that they can fall in love. It’s the feeling that love exists.
“Stop,” she says as the man tries to hug her. She turns and runs away.
“Tell me you don’t like it.” The man chases her into the kitchen and laughs. “Just try and tell me you don’t like it.”
“No,” she says, smiles, and runs away again. She can’t bring herself to say it. She knows that she can’t lie to him without him realizing it. She walks up to him as he stands still in front of the radio. “I don’t like it.” She comes damn close to laughing afterward.
“With the effort that took, I think I saw tears in your eyes.” He knows she’s lying. He knows because he saw it in her eyes. Eyes can’t lie.
They decide to go for a walk with two cigars, two beers, and no destination. All the while they talk of memories. Things of the past are somehow brought out now. Secrets are revealed both painfully and joyfully. They laugh, they smoke, and they drink, and have an overall good time. All the while the man tries to hold the woman’s hand. She seems more scared then nervous; she knows him too well to be nervous.
“We should do something stupid,” the man says. He’s been thinking for the past few days about this. Maybe if he got her to make a stupid risk, he could get her to take the risk of him.
“Like what?” she asks. The man is the weirdest person she’s ever met, and she’s told him that several times.
“Let’s smash these beer bottles!” He’s been drinking too much to think of anything better. “Right in front of this school. Right here next to the flagpole.”
“Someone will have to clean it up.” She really doesn’t care. She just wants to finish her beer.
“I gotta piss over here.” He walks over to the buses, and hears her bottle smash onto the ground. He laughs, has a brilliant idea, and says “I’m pissing in my beer bottle.” He zips up his pants.
“How much did you get in?” she asks. It’s about halfway full, and she wonders if he got any on his hands. Knowing him, he probably did.
“Stand back, I’m gonna smash it.” He slams it onto the ground, sees the bottle shatter, and the piss foam. He wipes his hand off on his pants. He wonders if she knows he got some on his hands.
They walk back to the house talking about walking. They say “Hi” to Bob the fire hydrant, and the man gives Bob what’s left of his cigar. Bob seems to enjoy it. When they get back to the house, they open two new beers, but then decide they’re hungry. They go to the one restaurant that’s always open. Once there, they eat and talk.
“So how’s the eggs?” the man asks.
“They suck. I told you they would,” the woman replies.
“Well you kept asking me, and that’s the first thing I saw.”
“Well, you saw wrong. Now you have to eat them!”
“You’re getting ketchup all over my face. That’s gross.”
“So wipe it off. How’s the fish? Can I have some?”
“Yes, and good…I mean, the other way. Here.”
“Wow, that is good. I don’t like tartar sauce, though. It’s gross.”
“Your face is gross!” The woman gives a kind of funny smile as he says this.
A waiter walks up to him and asks, “So, is he your boyfriend?”
“No,” she says. She hesitates. She wants other people to think they’re dating. “We’re friends.”
“So no boyfriend?”
“No,” she says.
“After tonight,” the man says.
“What?” she says. She can’t think of anything else to say. She wants it to happen, but she’s scared…
The waiter walks away.
“Let’s get outta here.” The man says. The woman agrees. The man pays and they leave.
They walk back to the car, and the woman hugs the man and thanks him for dinner. She drives home. He tells her to keep both hands on the wheel, and tries to hold her hand. Just for a second, less than a second, a mere moment in time, they hold hands. Everything makes sense. The world could stop right there, they could both die, and nothing would matter. At that moment in time, perfection ruled.
All they did was hold hands.
At the house, they sit down and talk some more. The woman tells him her deepest, darkest secret, but the man reserves his for later. Each time they meet, the secrets get worse.
They don’t drink anymore, but get tired and go to bed. The woman rolls over onto her side, and the man tries to hold her.
“Stop,” she says. She’s scared.
The man satisfies himself by putting his hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t complain. “Why are you scared?”
She pretends to sleep, and the night ends.
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Edited this to make it easier to read.
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