When I was 15... | Teen Ink

When I was 15...

August 20, 2013
By Corey0 BRONZE, Austin, Texas
Corey0 BRONZE, Austin, Texas
3 articles 0 photos 2 comments

When I was 15 I started to see boys
really I started to see one boy
he had blonde hair and nice eyes
and he smiled with all of his teeth

One night we lay outstretched on my trampoline
The summer heat left us damp with anticipation
And our backs lay against the nylon skin of the net with our shoulders touching.
The skin were we were fused lay tackier then the rest of us,
Whether it was from heat or excitement I couldn’t say.
One by one the boy and I counted off the starts,
Just as teachers call role at the beginning of the day
Until all the stars were accounted for
And I thought it was love.

When I was 16 I noticed a boy in my health class.
he was very tall and said he was allergic to Chinese food.
He had black hair and nice eyes
And he smiled with half of his mouth.

Once he walked with me to my bus.
His shoulder hitting mine about every three strides,
And he told me I was sweet as molasses.
He rode with me on the bus ride home,
our backs icy against the hard yellow bus benches.
We laughed at the fat men running in the cold and applauded them simultaneously.
I leaned on him to look out the window till I could hear his heart beat through his sweater,
Whether it was caused by cold or excitement I couldn’t say.
His fingers ran stiff and cold through my hair
And I thought it was love.

When I was 17 I didn’t see any boys.
Instead I saw myself.
I had brown hair and nice eyes,
And a craving for ice cream what could never quite be filled.

Once I had been a little girl with dreams of dinosaurs and stage lights,
and only the faintest idea of the universe.
I had thought love would come easy,
But then I sat back and watched it run through my fingers,
Like the dew that slowly runs off flower petals,
until I started to doubt its very existence.
Then one day I took the time to lay on my trampoline once again,
And look back at the stars I hadn’t seen in two years,
and I found them laying just where I left them that sticky summer night,
And I know it was love.


The author's comments:
This piece is a work of fiction, I made it up. Please remember that although the people aren't real don't mean the meaning isn't.

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