Instead of You

“Pretty much the same as the last one. We talk about what’s going well, talk about issues we have and get advice from each other.”

“Sounds helpful.” I had no idea what else to say. He was a graduate student and I hadn’t even made it through high school yet. I had no words of wisdom on how to best approach anything he was dealing with.

“The meetings are required. At the beginning of the program it was really helpful to have a group of people tackling the same issues as you were, and an experienced mentor to help guide the way. But I kind of feel like if you don’t have it by now, you were never going to get it.” He shrugged as if teaching were like riding a bike, or learning how to surf. That, perhaps, it didn’t take a special kind of person to stand in front of a room full of teenagers and try to make them care about something like World War II. “The best part of the meetings is when the advisor leaves to go home and the grad students all go out for a beer afterward.” A smile crept over his face as he said the words and there was a flutter in my belly.

“Did you want to go meet up with them? I can just stay here, or go back to your place. Is David home? He could let me in….” I let my words trail off, hoping Hayes would jump in and tell me what he wanted.

“David won’t be home tonight. I told him we were coming so he is staying with Kristen.”

I felt the flush move up my neck and over my face, warmth spreading all over me. “Oh” was my only response.

“Is that okay with you? I mean, I’ve gotten beers with my cohorts twice a month for almost a year. I’d rather just go home and be with you.”

“That’s perfect.” I packed up my things, trying to ignore the nervous flipping in my belly. I stood, attempting to sling my messenger bag strap over my shoulder, but Hayes took the bag from me, and then grasped my hand, his fingers twining through mine while his thumb traced circles on the back.

We walked out of the coffee shop, hand in hand, and the smile on my face had never been as wide or as embarrassingly obvious.

“Where’d you park?” he asked, looking at me. His ridiculous smile matched mine. It was hard to believe we were just walking down the street, holding hands, as if it were the easiest and most normal thing ever. And, in fact, it was. I thought for a moment about how my mother knew about us, and how we were just one step closer to being this normal couple. For just one instant, just that one flittering moment in time, I had hope. Hope for Hayes and me, that we’d have many more nights of walking down the street holding hands, not hiding from anyone, not having to tamp down our love.

“Just around the corner,” I whispered, leaning into his side, wrapping my free hand around his bicep, keeping step with him. When we made it to his Mustang he led me to the passenger side and then opened the door for me. Before I climbed in, he pulled me toward him, pressing my hand wrapped in his against the small of my back, and covered my mouth with his. It was a slow and sweet kiss, but people were walking past us on the sidewalk, the streetlight above us illuminated the somewhat chaste kiss, and that was exciting.

“I missed you,” he said before his lips were entirely disconnected from mine. I pressed my lips to his again, firmer, with more force. I heard him inhale sharply, then he moved into me, pressing me back against the car. I heard my bag hit the passenger seat and just after he released my hand from his, he was cupping my face. He kissed me hard, and I let him take the lead, let him give me whatever he wanted.

“I’m right here,” I said between breaths, between lips and kisses and touches. He pulled away and we were both panting, clinging to each other.

“It feels so right to be with you. But it’s so right, so perfect, I sometimes feel as though it’s temporary. Like a bright, hot-burning star. The brighter the star, the shorter the lifespan.” He rested his forehead against mine, running the back of his fingers down my cheeks and over my neck. “I’m afraid you’re going to slip through my fingers.”

“Then hold on to me tightly.” It could have been an off-the-cuff remark, could have just been the silly reply in the heat of the moment. But, no. I begged him. My hands came up to grip his wrists. “Please, whatever you do,” I said, my voice still a soft panic. “Don’t let me slip away.”

He kissed my forehead, breathing me in, then pulled back. “Let’s go.” I stared up into his eyes for a moment, then slid away from him and climbed into the car. The drive to his apartment was quiet, but his hand was wrapped in mine the whole way there. My main focus was the future. We had to have a future. We needed to make plans. I knew if we sat down and discussed what would come next, it would ease my mind a little.

Once inside his apartment, I watched as he looked through a stack of his mail then walked to his fridge. “Do you need anything? Water? I’ve got beer, too. Nothing else, really.” He looked at me sheepishly.

“I’m fine. But, do you think we could sit and talk for a minute?”