‘If you puke, just not on my new running shoes, okay?’
We were sitting on a swing at his family’s chalet. His family is also my best friend’s family, though this was in a different town. We were semi-camping.
My best friend J, a good friend of ours, and I biked to the town where J’s cousin M lived. And not far was a little chalet-type trailer with a park-like backyard. This was at the start of summer.
I’ve spoken about M before — he was the guy who was stolen from me by the girl who broke my nose.
He’s actually a sweet guy, so much so that I dated him twice.
The first time, I was 16, and we had eaten some fast food that wasn’t sitting well with me. I thought I was going to be sick. I kept moaning and clutching my stomach.
He stayed out on the long swing with me all night, holding my hand, the other wrapped around my shoulder, as we gently rocked.
‘If you puke, just not on my new running shoes, okay,’ he said to me.
We had been flirting a bit before that, and then more openly. It had been very clear to my friends that I had taken quite a liking to M, and then he made it clear he’d taken a liking to me.
He played the guitar too. He’s the one who introduced me to The Offspring’s music — they became my favourite band (though they switch places from time to time with my number two fav band, Linkin Park).
M also played some songs for us. He enjoyed playing the song Crazy by Aerosmith. And even if I’m not a big fan of that band, I was enthralled by his playing.
As I sat there on the swing, terrified of being sick, M stroked my hair, whispering sweet nothings to me. We chatted all night long. And then he turned to me, his hand on my chin, tilting my face up to his, and kissed me tenderly.
‘Courageous,’ I told him. ‘I might be sick.’
‘I like to be daring sometimes, though I trust you’ll turn your face away if you are.’
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