"Calm down, please. I'm sorry," I said, honestly. "This is all new to me too. I've never heard you talk like this before. It just caught me off guard. Please don't be mad." I very cautiously reached down to where his hand lay at his side. I took just the tips of his fingers in mine, hoping he wouldn't pull away. When he let me take it, I moved my hand to fully embrace his palm, squeezing it once our hands were fully linked. "We are on the same page, Asher. It does bother me that we'll be apart for the summer. I'm not going to miss my best friend this summer, I'm going to miss the first boy who ever held my hand, the first boy who ever danced with me. I'm going to miss you."
I saw him breathe out a sign of relief. He pulled me into him and I welcomed the comfort of his chest pressed against my cheek. His arms around my shoulder felt heavy and perfect.
"Are we ok?"
"Yeah, Bit. We're ok."
And we were. He went away for the summer and we both got acquainted with emails. We shared a few phone calls throughout the summer and I was beyond ecstatic when one of the phone calls came on my birthday. I never doubted that he would remember, but it meant a lot more this year than it had in the past. We never lacked for anything to talk about, there were never any awkward pauses, and we never stopped missing each other.
Chapter Seven
"Can I tell you something that might be really embarrassing?" He asked me one night while we were having a rare conversation over the phone. When he was on the farm we didn't get a lot of time to talk to each other.
"Sure … " I answered skeptically. I was laying on my bed, on my back, with my head hanging over the edge.
"Do you remember the last day I was home? When we were both going back to our houses and it was the last time we were going to see each other before I left the next morning?"
"Yeah." I remember that goodbye. It was the most painful and beautiful moment of my life. I didn't cry, but only because I kept pushing my fingernails into the skin of my palm to distract me from the need to release the sadness that was taking over me. I was torn apart that he was leaving, but behind all that, past all the hurt and longing and aching, I was so happy we'd made it to that point. I would miss him differently this year, and I would treasure that fact all the months he was gone. I heard him push out a nervous breath and it made me nervous.
"I wanted to kiss you so badly that night." And now my breath was gone all together. I remembered the moment he was talking about. We stood on my front porch after he'd walked me home from sitting under the bridge by the creek for the evening, trying to distract ourselves from our sadness. He picked me up in a giant hug and had held on forever, but not long enough for either of us. He loosened his grip and I slid down his chest, the friction of our bodies and clothing rubbing together causing all kinds of strong yet confusing things to happen to me. He rested his forehead against mine and I could feel the air from his mouth brush against mine. I couldn't see his mouth, but I knew exactly where it was and how far I'd have to move to make my lips press against his. I was scared. I'd never kissed anyone before and I wasn't sure I knew how. I wanted to kiss him so badly, but I couldn't get past the idea that I would mess it up somehow. And just when I thought I'd gathered up enough nerve to move the inch and half it would take to change my life forever, he pulled away. He placed a tiny kiss on the crown of my head and I sighed, partly in relief and partly in regret.
"I wanted to kiss you too," I whispered. Now I heard him sigh.
"Good. That's good."
"Good?"
"Well, I'm glad that you wanted to kiss me too. But honestly, I'm glad we didn't."
"Why?"
"I didn't want our first kiss to be a goodbye."
Our first kiss took place the day he came back that summer. We planned to meet under the bridge, in our usual spot, after dinner. He had flown in that afternoon, but had to spend some obligatory time with his parents before he thought he could sneak away. I spent the entire day watching the clock. I knew when his plane landed. I knew when he had probably arrived home, and I was filled with nerves knowing he was just a block away, in his house, so close to me.
As I walked to the bridge in the park where we had spent so much time as little kids, I tried hard to determine if I was going to be sick or not. My stomach was in knots, the anticipation of seeing him again was more than I thought I could handle. I placed my hands over my belly and rubbed along the white eyelet fabric of the new dress I had purchased, telling myself it wasn't exclusively for Asher, even though it totally was. I mumbled comforting words to myself that did nothing to comfort me. "Everything is going to be ok. It's just Asher. You've known Asher all your life. He's the same boy you grew up with." But he wasn't. I talked to myself until I looked up and suddenly saw him.
His back was to me as he looked out over the pitiful stream the flowed under the bridge. The sun was setting and it cast an orange hue over everything, making everything glow in a way that only happens in the summer. As if he could sense I was there, he turned and his eyes met mine. My belly continued to flip and flop everywhere and I could feel my hands begin to tremble, but I couldn't stop walking towards him.
I made it to him, stopping when there was very little distance between us, and pushed my hair back behind my ear. I still fiddled with the fabric of my dress, and went to open my mouth to greet him when I felt his finger under my chin. He lifted my face until I was looking up into his slate gray eyes. I watched those eyes as they grew closer and closer, and I saw him close his eyes right before I felt his lips touch mine.
We stood there, Charlie and Asher, best friends since fifth grade, sharing our first kiss.
He was right when he decided our first kiss shouldn't be a goodbye. This hello kiss was perfect. A greeting. A beginning. Something new.
I was so nervous, all my insecurities threatening to take the kiss over. I made myself remember this was Asher and the moment was already perfect. His lips moved against mine slowly and gently. He pressed in harder and I felt my lips slide partially into his mouth as his captured mine. He moved again, his mouth opening slightly, then closing his lips around mine, the contact sending waves of a new kind of pleasure straight to my belly. His hand came up to cradle the back of my head, pressing our mouths together even more. I heard myself let out a small moan against his mouth and I was instantly embarrassed and felt my face flush. I pulled away and put my hand to my mouth, turning away from him.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled through my fingers. I can't believe I just moaned, like, right into his mouth.
"Hey," I heard him say as he turned me around by my arm to face him. "Hey, Bit," he said as he ducked down to look at me. "Don't be embarrassed. I'm not embarrassed. That was good. I'm glad you were enjoying yourself." I rubbed my hands over my face and I could feel it was flaming red and hot. "Hey, look at me. Charlie, look at me." I growled in frustration but tilted my head up to look at him. "Hi," he said softly. I couldn't help but smile. "I missed you." I melted a little inside.
"I missed you too, Asher. I'm sorry again. I'm not sure why I did that." He took his hand and ran it through my loose, black hair, causing tingles that made me shiver.
"You were enjoying yourself. There's nothing wrong with that. People like kissing. That's why they do it all the time, I assume. And I'll admit," he said tugging on my hair just a little so that I looked up into his eyes again, "I liked that you were enjoying it so much."
"I'm so glad you're home," I said as I moved into his arms.
"Did you have a good summer?" He asked, his words a little mummbly from his cheek pressed to the top of my head. I shrugged my shoulders and loved the sound of his laughter echoing through his chest. I pulled back from him and saw his eyes glide down my body. It might have been the first time I didn't feel self-conscious about his eyes running over me; I wanted him to look, to see me, to like what he saw.
"Do you like my dress?" I held out the hem of my skirt and gave a little twirl. I heard him swallow and saw his head bob up and down in a nod, his eyes not leaving the flesh of my bare legs. "Good."
He caught himself staring and returned his attention to my face. "Do you want to walk around the park?"