We Real Cool 15 Long Hugs And Slow Dance

Oh, how I wish Red would kiss me.

A peck on my cheek wouldn't hurt. A smack on my lips would do, too. But really, what I want is the kind of kiss that I've only ever seen on romantic films and soap operas. You know–the kind of kiss that lasts for at least 15 seconds. The kind that's full of pa.s.sion. Full of love.

Unfortunately, I can't 50-shades it right now, but let me tell you this: I wish Red would give me a kiss like that. In fact, I can't help but wonder. How would it feel? Knee weakening? Probably. Euphoric? Maybe. Life changing? Perhaps. If there's one thing I'm sure of, it would be the perfect eighteenth birthday present. No doubt about that.

But then again, there are a million reasons why a kissing scenario might not be a very good idea. For starters, it might get a little awkward from here on out. The kiss might not be as good as I hope that my first kiss would be, and I might just be disappointed. Worse, we might both end up disappointed—I don't want that. Therefore, when I pulled back after my little act and all he did was give me a look of surprise, my heart may have sunk for the kiss I did not get, but at least, it was at peace. It wasn't racing like the telltale heart.

"I think we should go now," he said as he took a step forward. "Jeffrey might be waiting for us already."

"Jeffrey?" I asked before I remembered who Jeffrey was. "Oh, right. The bus driver."

"Jeffrey the cool bus driver–yes," Red answered with a smile. "I'm surprised you know his name, actually. Not a lot of people do. Not even some kids who are actual students here."

"Well, surprise," I answer giddily.

He only smiled as he held his hand out. Going down the crag was tough, so I bet going back would be tougher. I put my hand in his, ready to head back and lead the way when suddenly, he made me spin so I was facing him again. Gently, he brings me closer so that there was no s.p.a.ce between us. My heart skips a beat in an instant. Electric sparks run down my spine and I b.u.t.terflies invade my stomach. Upon our mild collision, my hand found its way on his chest; his found its way on my waist.
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For what could have been a minute or two, we were just staring into each other's eyes. Then, the kiss came. He planted a kiss not on my lips, but on my forehead, and I s.h.i.+vered at the contact. My knees weakened so bad I just wanted to fall completely into his arms. More so, for the split-second that his lips warmed my skin, the world seemed to have stopped. Right there, in his arms, it's as though I fell into a portal that brought me back into the past then back into the present at the same instant. That moment, as he kissed me, I remembered all the hopeless romances I've had. I've had so many doomed relations.h.i.+ps that sometimes made me think, "Why? Why was it so hard for someone to love me back? Why did it seem like it was impossible for me to be loved?"

"You are full of surprises," Red whispered as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "I love that."

I smile, rest my head on his chest, and put my hands around his neck. He strokes my back, and makes me smile even more. He makes me feel like I mattered more than anything, and I want to stay here for the rest of the night. I want to stay here, coc.o.o.ned in his embrace even if it means having to miss the game at Fenway Park.

"We should really go now," Red said as he loosened his hold.

"Okay," I reply, slowly moving away from him.

"Shall we?"

"We shall." I answered, smiling.

The whole time we trudged our way back, the only scene playing in my mind was our embrace. How I landed in his arms and how we both spent that moment in silence. It's like we didn't have to explain anything anymore because it felt right. Telling him, a total stranger, about my life story felt right. Giving him a kiss felt right. Getting a kiss back from him felt right.

The next thing I know, we're already back at the top of the crag.

"h.e.l.lo," Jeffrey greeted us enthusiastically. "How's it going for you two tonight?"

"Hi," I reply. Red, who was behind me, raised his fist for a little fist b.u.mp with Jeffrey.

"It's been a h.e.l.luva night," he said.

"Don't I know it," he answered.

Red only smiles; I do, too. I was smiling the whole time we walked to the bus. Once inside, I head to the rear end as far away as I can be from Red. Then, propelled by some infatuation-driven impulse that's never existed until now, I run back to him and give him a big hug.

"Tell me about baseball," I say, smiling.

He only looks at me before walking past me all the way to the driver's seat. My eyes followed him as he said something to Jeffrey. A few seconds later, he walks back.

"To answer your question," he says, beaming. "The games at Fenway are the best because a special song is played there."

"Okay," I answer. "What song is that?"

"May I have this dance?" he continued.

"What song?" I ask.

Then, right on cue, a melody began to play.

"Sweet Caroline," Red says as soon as the singer started singing to the beat.

I only laugh. Apparently, Red took this sign for a yes because as soon as I did, his left hand reached for my waist while his right grabbed my hand. The next thing I know, we're dancing a slow dance.

"Jeffrey," I say aloud. "Please don't judge me; I was just dragged me into this."

"No worries," he replies. "Just let me know when he's gotten too far and I'll take care of him for you."

We all laugh at this remark. Jeffrey continues with his business of driving while Red and I continue with our slow dance. We sway side to side in a slow, fragile motion, similar to that of the movement made by seaweeds under the ocean. Red lights up when the chorus kicks in, and from the slow dance, we transition to an awkward albeit fun, faster-paced side-to-side motion, complete with turns and drops. It was fun despite its being a reckless act, given that Jeffrey was in full speed in his attempt to cut the usual 10-minute drive into five. But we kept dancing. We danced until the song ended.

"It's a special song to me," Red said.

"It's now close to my heart, too," I boldly said. "But dancing to it during the bus ride was dangerous, you psycho."

"But you had fun," he replied.

"I did," I reply.

I felt like he was about to say something, but then the bus slowed down and made a stop.

"We're here, lovebirds," he says.

I look out the window and sure enough, we just arrived. The line-up area was now empty, and the lights were brighter than they were earlier.

"You can come down first," Jeffrey said. "I'll follow."

And just like that, we stepped off the bus. We were back where the adventure all began. The entrance area was empty, but from the inside, the fans were roaring at the top of their lungs.