It’s just after two when we pull up into my driveway. We live in a modest two storey house that has a desolate looking tree in the front yard. My father works two jobs just so we can live here and pay for my skating. Michael shifts his black Mercedes into park and turns her off, “Are you going to be okay?” he asks concerned. With a heavy heart I shrug, not even having the energy to respond. “Give me your phone,” he orders. I reach down into my bag and pass it to him. He starts typing onto the screen. “Call me if you need to talk. I texted myself, so I have your number too.”
Michael pops the trunk and removes the crutches from the back of his car handing them to me. I lean into them clumsily and work my way slowly up the steep driveway, I’m horrible at it. The few steps I do take hurt my armpits. Michael attempts to hold back his laughter at the sight of me using my crutches, but I hear it. Humiliated, tears are threatening to build in the corner of my eyes again, I reprimand myself for my self- pitying attitude.
When I make it to the door, I lean the crutches against it, so I can start digging for my key. The top crutch begins to fall, but Michael leans over catching it. His body is really close to mine, and I lose my breath for a second. Our faces are merely a few inches apart and I see him glance down at my lips and then back into my eyes. I want him to kiss me and he advances forward as though he’s going to, but he stops.
My fingers feel the keys in my purse and I’m tempted to feign not having found them to buy more time, but I don’t, I pull them out and unlock the door. He pushes it open for me, so I can make my way in with the crutches. I hobble and swing to the couch and lay the crutches down on the carpet, before making myself comfortable on the sofa.
Michael glances around the living room, “Are we alone?”
“Yep, we are for now anyway. My parents don’t get back until after dinner time. Are you hungry?” I ask.
“Starving,” he admits. “I’ll get take-out, while you rest. What do you want?”
“I don’t care. I’ll have whatever you are in the mood for.” “Okay, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Thirty minutes roll slowly by before Michael taps lightly on the front door, “Come in!” I call out. He lets himself in carrying two bags of Mr. Biggs. My bag has some large fries, big mac, and a quarter pounder. “You can’t be serious, I must have some of your food,” I grin. “You expect me to eat all this?”
“That food is all yours. I have the exact same in my bag. You told me to get you whatever I was in the mood for, and that’s what I’m eating. The drinks are still in the car, I’ll be right back.” He returns with two chocolate milkshakes. I’m taking up most of the sofa, so Michael sits adjacent to me on the love seat. We eat every morsel of food and then start sipping our shakes staring passively at Ramsey Noah on television, lost in our own thoughts. He nervously starts picking at imaginary lint on his jeans. “You were really working on a triple axel when you hurt yourself?” His eyes shine with admiration as he waits for my answer.
“Yes.”
“That’s so hot,” he comments quietly. I can feel the intensity of his eyes boring into me. A tingle of excitement courses through my body.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asks. His eyes intense, as he stares into mine.
“No, I don’t date,” I say casually. “My parents think dating is a distraction. Mom says there’s plenty of time for me to do that after I finish skating.”
“That’s too bad,” he says under his breath, “but you are not skating right, now are you? You’ll be off the ice for several weeks.” “That’s true,” I confirm. His finger touches my chin, lifting my face to his, “So you’ve never had a boyfriend?”
“Never,” I admit, fearing my answer will turn him off me.
“Never kissed?”
“Never,” I reassure. I start thinking that he likes that I’ve never had a boyfriend or been kissed before. His eyes lock onto mine and he starts inching his face towards mine angling it perfectly for my first kiss when I slip in my question, “Do you have a girlfriend?” I venture. He pauses causing me suspicion.
“Truth?” he asks.
“Please.” Even though, I’m dreading it now.
“I do, I don’t want to lie to you.”
My shoulder’s drops in disappointment, the despair from the days events are accumulating and this is the icing on the cake, I just feel like I’m being swallowed if you can feel that way, “Then you should probably leave, she’s going to be wondering where you are.”
The look of disappointment on his face speaks volumes, “Yes, you are right. I better go.”
“Thanks for taking me to the hospital,” I say. He gets up taking the empty bags with him and leaves my house. It’s the closest I ever came to get a first kiss, but no matter how badly I wanted it, I will never want it to be with someone else's boyfriend.