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Subject: {ASSM} At My Fingertips
Date: Wed, 7 Jun 2000 21:10:08 -0400
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At My Fingertips
There I was, basking in the afterglow of another calorie-packed fast
food binge. The hard plastic seat was starting to dig into my ass, so
I grabbed my soda and headed up front to get a straw so I could take
my drink on the road with me. But as I drew nearer to my target, I
saw that I had a problem.
There was a girl blocking the soda counter. She was slim, fair skinned
and twentyish, with her long auburn hair tied back sportishly behind
her neck. She was facing the order window, apparently wait for her food
to arrive. She was cute in an unremarkable girl-next-door kind of way,
and she was quite oblivious to the fact that I needed a straw. I
paused perhaps a foot behind her, my eyes drifting from the creamy
looking skin of her upper arm to the straw dispenser which rested just
barely out of reach. I smelled the faint but alluring scent of shampoo
from her hair. In the next instant, several things happened.
I leaned around her to reach for the straws, with my face coming within
inches of her neck. Unable to help myself, I planted a soft kiss just
beneath her ear, inhaling the fragrant smell of her skin....no, wait.
Catching a glimpse of me behind her, she turned her head. Her lips
were so suddenly and tantalizingly close that I had to kiss them, and I
did. Her eyes widened in surprise, then....umm, no.
Shit.
None of that happened, except in my mind. All I really did was
mumble "excuse me" and reach past her to grab a straw. She stepped
grudgingly out of my way with a slight frown, as if annoyed by the fact
that I'd made her move. I would have smiled if she'd made eye contact,
but she only glanced in my direction once before turning her attention
back to the window.
Sometimes I wish I could write reality.
*****
Sam
It was the summer of 1985, and I was fourteen years old and had just
finished eighth grade. My aunt and uncle were taking their family to
the Colorado River for the weekend, and I was invited to go along. My
two younger cousins were coming, along with a few of my aunt's and
uncle's friends whom I didn't really know. Also, my cousin's regular
babysitter was going, who I had never met before and knew only as Sam.
When I arrived at their house that Friday, I got a bit of a surprise
when I was finally introduced to the sitter. 'Sam' was short for
Samantha, and she was sixteen years old and drop-dead gorgeous. She
had long, dark brown hair, hazel-colored eyes, perfect skin, a slender
athletic body, and a beautiful smile. I remember thinking that she
could've been a model, and I wasn't very surprised later when I found
out that she was.
I developed an instant crush on her, but I doubt I made a very good
impression. I was tall, skinny, and wore glasses. I mumbled a hello at
our introduction, feeling like a tongue-tied dork.
We were soon on our way to the river. I rode along with my aunt,
uncle, and cousins, while Sam went with one of the family friends. When
we arrived at the campground I helped set everything up, then I and a
few other people went out on the river in my uncle's small boat. Sam
was with us, and the wonderous sight of her in that one-piece bathing
suit still haunts me even now.
I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but Samantha and I ended up
talking and being friendly over the course of the day. Maybe it was
because I was the only one there that was close to her age, but I know
that for some reason we connected.
That night we hung out by the campfire for a while, then Sam and I went
down to the river to swim a bit. I remember that she was scared of
bumping into fish in the dark water, so we would splash around to scare
them off. We knew it was silly, but it was fun. I remember thinking
about her as I went to sleep in the RV that night, wondering if there
was a chance of there ever being something between us.
The rest of the trip passed by in a blur, but I remember that Samantha
and I did most everything together. For a few days we were friends, and
for me it was a perfect world.
The next time I saw her was at a barbeque at my uncle's house a few
months later. She was with a few girls her age, and I was hanging out
with some boys my age. I never got a chance to talk to her, but I could
tell by the way she avoided looking at me that something had changed.
We were both back in the real world again, where she was a beautiful
high school junior and and I was a geeky freshman. People like us
couldn't be friends here. That was one of my first glimpses at the
unfair realities of life, and I remember that it depressed the hell out
of me.
Soon after that my aunt and uncle moved, and I never saw Samantha
again. She would be twenty-nine or thirty now, and I'm not sure if I
would recognize her if I saw her. By now I imagine that she's married
to some handsome stud and living in style somewhere. I sincerely hope
that she's happy.
I wonder if she remembers me.
*****
J.
She is sleeping. Her body lies curled up on the cushion, framed by the
radiance from the faint afternoon sun. Her face is serene and calm. She
is beautiful. I desire nothing more than to touch her, to caress her
cheek or comb my fingers through her hair as a lover might, but I
can't. So I look, concentrating on every detail, on every curve and
shadow. I want to burn this image into my memory and remember it
forever. My eyes come to the wedding band on her finger. He is missing
this, even though he is not far away. Would he be as impressed? I hope
so. Our minds are not very different, though he has seen her in many
more ways than I ever will. He has memorized the individuality of her
breasts and the hue of her nipples. He knows the landmarks of her skin,
and the secret face she wears only at the height of passion.
He has all those images; all those memories. This one I take for
myself.
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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