A Night To Remember

It's just you and I in my car. We had a great time country swing dancing, even if I almost dropped you on your head a couple of times. The instructor didn't know what he was teaching most of the time anyway, so don't worry too much about it.

We're making turn after turn, winding our way down back roads before I become completely unsure as to where you live. The only way to figure it out is to get back on the main road. I can navigate from the main road. It's a lot easier to find Eleventh Street from Clary Street than from Duba Avenue.

We're going down the main stretch, talking and laughing about the couples who were clueless about what we were doing. Sure, sometimes we were clueless, and we didn't even try some of the moves. You didn't want to be thrown around, and I wasn't willing to try. So we kept our feet on the ground and did just fine.

We're pulling around the corner, going down your street. I slow down, then stop. We aren't at your house, we're still quite far away from it. We joked about it on instant messaging, but sometimes jokes turn into reality. I'm wondering if this is for real. In the middle of Eleventh Avenue, a quick peck on the lips seemed real enough for me.

I start pulling down the street, and I feel your hand creeping toward mine. I smirk to myself, and gently grab your hand. It's so soft, almost like your shirt. A wide grin comes across my face, but you can't see it in the dark. This may be a good thing.

I pull into your driveway. No lights are on in the house, they all probably went to bed. You guess that there is a note on the TV or something, telling you to wake them up when you get home. We sit in the car, still talking about tonight, still holding hands, something by Kelly Clarkson is playing on the radio. It's not good mood music, but we find our faces getting closer to each other.

We begin to speak slower and softer. Our words are just soft staccatos in the car. I feel your breath against my lips. We are so close. It feels so natural, almost as if it were a dream...

Our lips touch, ever so gently. We pull back slightly, and pause. Should we be doing this? What if your parents wake up and see us?

But as our lips touch again, none of that seems to matter anymore. Each kiss becomes more and more passionate, until our faces are mashed together is a frenzy. It seems so right, the way my hands run up and down your arms, the way you have a hold of my shoulders. It seems it will last forever.

Suddenly, we both pull away. We realize it's just not right. You're fresh off of a break up, and I myself am waiting for a response from another girl. I can't pull stuff like this. I don't want to hurt you. You've been hurt enough.

I will however be a gentleman. I unlock the door for you, and you climb out. I walk you to the side of your house, where you have to walk in the door. We stand there by the door and continue to talk. It's obvious we don't want to leave each other, but it must be done. There's school tomorrow to talk and hang out.

We say our good-nights, and you open the door to walk in. In a fit of romanticism, I tell you to wait. You stop and wonder what I'm doing as I grab your hand. I twirl you into me, and with you facing me, a huge grin on your face, I go in for one last kiss.

We hold this kiss for a few seconds, but three eternities later, we are in each others' arms with bewildered looks on our faces. I slowly let you go, tell you goodnight again, and walk back to the still running car. My face must be extremely red, as the heat radiating from my face could probably keep a family of eight warm.

As I climb in the car, a sudden hodgepodge of thoughts come streaking into my mind. The dancing. The kissing. What will the other girl say? Will I even tell her? You're such a wonderful person. Remember when they fell on each other? Classic. Did I feel some tongue? I think I did. How did that pretzel move go again? Arm over you, over you, over me, you, me, me and you, in the car together, our lips locked.

It's a night to remember.