I’m walking to my car with my big group of friends, were all laughing and talking about nothing and everything all at once when you catch my eye by blowing a puff of cigarette smoke in our direction. My friends glare at you and make faces and whisper, but I just stare into your mysterious green eyes and wonder what you’re thinking. Why is it that the good girl always goes for the bad boy? I smile at you and blush, my cheeks flush and I know they’re pink. Even in the cold autumn air I am too warm for comfort. I pull off my scarf and shove in the trunk of my car and wait for my friends to leave. One by one they disappear but you stand there as if waiting for them to leave too. I look behind me to see if you’re still there, you catch me looking and give me a grin as if warning me of your danger. I smile back and you walk over to me. After all these years of being in the same class, we still don’t know each other. I only know your name. I have no idea who you really are; all I hear are rumors of how you have been in and out of jail your entire life and how you are bad news. I learn that you live with both your parents and have a little brother. He’s four. You taught him how to read and how to ride a pony at a ranch. I laugh at the joke you tell and you smile, your eyes crinkling at the edges. I realize that the only danger you put me in is falling too fast. The next thing I know we’re holding hands at school. I can’t stop thinking about you and one day we’re sitting at a drive in movie, I say those words that I’ve been waiting to say since that day in the parking lot. I love you. You smile your crooked grin and take my face in your hands and kiss me. You taste faintly of spearmint and cigarette smoke. I love you too, you say.
The Bad Boy
November 4, 2009