At that age (like now) I had the slim look…likely should have “bulked up,” (as my father wanted me to do)but it beat being fat. The girl was the opposite of me…and whatever “weight” she had was up top, above the stomach. Plans those days were simply a cover to parents. You had to give an indication that you were going to do something. This was pointless. I wasn’t going to give them the truth, and I did and didn’t know what would happen.
We’d get in the car and drive…drive to the point that we were “nowhere.” That’s when it began. Maybe we thought this was a blank canvas. It could happen during the day, but it was better after dark. It was summer, and it was warm. It was sensational.
This was no courtship, or jewelry bound relationship. We both knew this, but we never spoke of it. Looking back, it seems we both knew that if we DID say something it would ruin the whole deal. But we were of that age, when you claim “nothing” is going on. A window of life; early maturity, when you know what you’re doing and why, and loving the freedom. She and I did this often, never knowing where we’d start, but knowing where we’d end. Sounds impersonal, but it wasn’t. I got mine, she got hers…we were happy. The boredom, bullshit from the parents, it was all wasting away. And all this…during the summer. To a northern boy, it wouldn’t be the same otherwise.
Weeks went by…lost in this shuffle and haze. There was one of those summer rainstorms that keep you up, or hoping you’d closed the windows. I heard a big clap and then thought to myself “I wonder if that is by her house.” Then it hit me: I was caring…even at some minor level I was concerned when we made an unspoken bond we wouldn’t.
And there I sat, thinking I could do all this “no stress.” What did it matter to me? It wouldn’t be a big deal either way, right? I wonder what she really thinks. Summer is almost ending.
What did I know at that moment? What I wanted to know took the summertime to find out. Hell, look at me remembering this. Growing up.
