We sat down in the middle of his bed, and I distributed the game pieces. “Why don’t we just play our favorite category?”
“Terms of Endearment,” he said with a smile.
“Uh-huh, you flip the timer, and I’ll roll the alphabet dice.” I decided. “Ooh, it’s an L.” We scribbled a list of terms that someone may find endearing while sixty seconds slipped through the timer.
“Time,” he yelled, and our pens hit the bed. We leaned forward, ready to fire our answers back and forth.
Rob started, “Lipstick Lesbian.”
“Ooh, just rumors, Limp Libido.”
“Sure, they are Little Lush.”
“And a string of doubles from the Long-winded Lexiconophiliac.”
“Whatever, Liar.” He smiled.
“Well, isn’t that the truth, you Listless Lover?”
“Ow, Latin Loser.”
“But at least I’m not a big Loner.” I peered across at his empty list. “And I still have Lamo and Landshark, so who’s the Loser now?”
“Austin,” he said with a wink.
“Oh, very funny, my little Love Muffin. Now, come here and get your sympathy kisses.” He crept forward, sweeping the game pieces onto the floor, and tackled me. I love game night! I decided as I ran my nimble fingers through his auburn hair, against his warm neck, across his shoulders, and down the length of his back. And while I pressed my lips against his mouth, I tugged up on his shirt. He pulled it off the rest of the way and tossed it onto the floor.
He rolled over onto his back, and I nestled against him, tracing his happy trail with my fingers and sticking my pinky in his belly button. Then I ran my fingers along the waistline of his shorts and tried to slide my hand under his boxers, but he grabbed my hand before my fingers crossed the equator.
“Sorry,” I muttered as he rolled off the bed and walked toward the window. He stood there with his hands on his hips, and I joined him, threading my arms through his. “What’s wrong?” I asked softly.
“Nothing.”
“Just tell me.”
“I’m, uh, frustrated. That’s all.”
“Oh?”
“Because you can’t do that.”
“Why?”
“Because I won’t want you to stop.” He stepped out of my arms and turned around. “You drive me crazy, Chloe, and I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you. But at the same time, it’s you, and I know you want to wait until marriage.”
“Maybe I’ve changed my mind.” I looked up at him. “And maybe I want you to have it.”
“It?” he teased.
“Yeah,” I returned. “But I don’t mean right now…just sometime before you leave for school. I don’t want to regret my first time, and that’s why I wanted to wait until I got married. But if it were with you, then I would never regret it. I love you, and you love me. So shouldn’t our first time be with each other?”
He nodded slowly.
“And waiting until marriage seems so easy until you actually fall in love with someone. And I love you so much, Rob, and I will never feel this way with anyone else.” I stepped closer to him. “No one could ever replace you in my life. You were my first friend, my first boyfriend, and…” I swallowed down the knot. “I want you to be my first lover.”
“But waiting until marriage also means you intend to make love to only one person.”
“I know, and I want you to be that person.”
He rested his hands on my shoulders and studied me. “And you’re absolutely sure about this?”
“Definitely,” I said, since he was standing there without a shirt on, and if People magazine spotted him, they’d put him on the front cover of their “Sexiest People” issue. My fingers went into his chest hair, soft and wiry, and I remembered the summer I first noticed the hair on his chest. That’s when I started calling him a Gorilla, and he, in return, nicknamed me Bird Legs.
“But we’re still so young, Chloe.”
“I’ve known you most of my life, so as far as relationships go, ours is very old.”
“But—” I placed a finger on his lips.
“Rob, we both know all the reasons why we should wait. Religious, emotional, developmental, whatever, but maybe we should focus on the other reasons too. The ones that make it okay for us.”
He pulled me into chest, and I breathed in his intoxicating scent. He rubbed his chin against the top of my head. Then he pushed out an exhale. “I’ve made up my mind.”
“And?”
“I’ll let you know on your birthday.”
-23-
His Answer
Several weeks had passed, and with finals behind us, we were now enjoying the carefree days of summer. It was the end of June, and Rob and I had just returned home from church. I sat on the edge of his bed and watched as he hung his tie back in the closet. Then he faced me as he unfastened the top buttons of his dress shirt, and I wished his parents weren’t home. Seeing him undress down to his boxers would have been a very nice present, especially if he were wearing those stretchy, grey ones that I spotted in the top drawer of his dresser. But the fact was he never took off his jeans or shorts when we were alone, and my imagination only took me so far.
As he unbuttoned his shirt, I asked, “You want some music?”
He responded by biting down on his lower lip and rolling his shoulders slowly one at a time as he finished with the last few buttons. Then he lifted his hands over his head and rolled his hips a little. He smiled and slid off his shirt, twirling it above his head a few times before he released it in my direction. I picked it up and took a whiff like a groupie at a rock concert, and then he stepped forward and kissed the top of my head. “Okay, show’s over.”
“Seriously?”
He nodded.
“But it’s my birthday,” I whined.
He frowned at me, crossed the room, and opened the door. I left his bedroom, feeling needlessly dejected, and entered the kitchen. His parents were still dressed in their Sunday best and pulling trays of food from the fridge.
“Want some help?”
“Nonsense, it’s your big day. You shouldn’t lift a finger.”
“Mind sharing that philosophy with my mother?”
Rob’s mother leaned on the counter. “Why? What did she make you do today?”
“You know, the usual long list of chores in case the camera crew from Better Homes and Gardens shows up unannounced.”
“You have it rough, kiddo.”
“So I won’t be getting any sympathy from you, will I?”
She shook her head and pulled out a bottle of cleaner. Apparently, BH&G had scheduled the Callahans instead.
Then Rob rested a hand on my shoulder. “Chloe and I will be back soon.”
“What? Where are we going?” Surely, I looked dumbfounded. “Shouldn’t I be here for the party?” After all, it was my seventeenth birthday, and silly me, I thought I was the guest of honor.
He smiled down at me and then over at his parents, and I realized I was the only person not in on the secret. Then he offered his hand and led me out of the sliding glass door.
“I’m not a fan of surprises, Rob.”
“I know, but I am.”
“That’s just like you.” I smirked over at him. “You’re always thinking of yourself.” He squeezed my hand a few times, and we walked through the woods that separated the houses in our neighborhood. Our feet crunched on sticks and leaves as we headed toward the river. Once there, he took a seat on the end of a fallen log and patted the other side. I sat down, remembering the first time we found the log. It appeared years ago after a big lightning storm, and whenever we journeyed down there as little kids, mainly to fish or toss rocks into the water, it had been our place to sit.
“That night before finals when we were, uh…talking in my room,” he started slowly, his hands wringing nervously like before a game. “I decided to give you something today. It’s my answer, Chloe, and I hope you like it.”
Then he re
ached into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out a black velvet box, and like any girl about to receive jewelry, I extended an eager palm. But as soon as he dropped the box in my hand, all the parts of the equation added together, and I realized what the box contained. The box, still unopened, grew heavier and heavier in my hand. Of course, I wanted to marry him, spend my entire life with him, but those were someday dreams. I was just seventeen, a whole year from high school graduation, and I still didn’t know where I was going to college.
I took a deep breath as I opened the box, finding an intricately designed golden ring. Two tiny hands held a heart, and on top of the heart was a crown. I couldn’t remember the name of the ring, but I had seen it before in family photos and on the hands of his relatives.
“I like it,” I said.
“Do you know what it is?”
“A ring?” I asked, not intending to play the sarcastic card.
“Yeah, but it’s called a Claddagh ring.” He slid it onto my right ring finger, facing the crown outward. “And when it’s worn like this, it means a girl is available.”
“Should I wear it this way?”
“No,” he chided playfully and turned the ring so that the crown faced inward. “Now, it means,” he started slowly, finding my eyes, “that you have given your heart to me.”
“Oh,” I breathed out, and he continued on, holding my hand lightly in his. “And not only that, each picture is a symbol. The hands represent friendship whereas the heart stands for love, and Chloe, we have been blessed to have known both in our lives.” He looked directly into my eyes as he continued, “You were my first friend as well as the first girl I ever loved.”
He leaned in, his nose brushing mine a few times, and then he settled in for a soft kiss, warm and buttery. He pulled back slowly and smiled.
“And what about the crown?” I wondered.
“It stands for loyalty.”
“Like a promise for next year?”
He nodded. “Or longer.”
I took a deep breath, since our impending separation caused sadness to spread in my heart. I didn’t want to think about it and changed the subject. “What does it mean if I wear the ring on my left hand?”
“Uh, we’re not ready for that.”
I didn’t heed his warning and slid it onto my left hand anyway. I looked at him, awaiting his response. “Now, we’re engaged.” I thought about my earlier musings, and then turned it around so that the crown faced inward, thinking I knew the significance of the ring’s last position. “And now?” I bit down on my lip.
“And now,” he repeated, shaking his head. “We’re married.”
“Well, if we’re married, then it’s okay to—”
“Chloe,” he started, laying a gentle finger on my lips. “I love you.” It was one of those really sweet ones that comes out all breathy and shaky, and I felt the words enter my heart and knew they would remain with me forever. “And because I love you so much, I want us to wait. It won’t be easy, but it’s the right thing to do.”
“I know,” I conceded softly, falling into his open arms. He wrapped me up tightly, and I spoke into the crook of his neck, “I love you too.”
He kissed the top of my head. “I wish we could stay out here longer, but we have to get back to your party.”
****