1972

4. Make It with You

Make It with You- Bread

Your weekend passed in a blur of noodles, cheap wine, Flip's arms and lips, and record after record. Dancing together around dirty dishes and discarded boots. Books sat collecting dust as your brain spent its time studying his face. Finding yourself lost in the simple way he existed in your space. Taking things semi-slow felt right for you both, testing the strength of the connection. After the way, he ate the toast you kept burning with nothing but a smile on his face, you could tell he was in as much easy bliss as you were. The aroma of your dorm turning from your laundry soap and a sweet floral perfume you used frequently, to a mixture of oak and his burgomount bar soap.

Paying attention in history class was becoming nearly impossible. He was constantly reaching his arms up under his desk to rub at the small of your back, or leaning forward to leave little kisses on your neck. Your study dates exclusively took place in your dorm since any time you entered the library with him you were promptly kicked out for being too loud. It was hard for either one of you to contain any kind of composure around the other. Today you found yourself  on the passenger's side of the bench seat in his truck watching his hands grip the steering wheel. The windows were down and his black mane whipped around in the wind, you were mesmerized by its random billowing. You watched his profile as he kept his eyes on the road and his left hand on your knee. It was becoming a rare occurrence for the two of you to be in the same vicinity without having some kind of touch. He insisted on a change of scenery today when he'd met you outside your geometry class. You hadn't made plans with him at all but walking out to see his face and that familiar flannel was a hell of a way to start another weekend, a very welcomed surprise. He refused to tell you where he was taking but he promised it was going to be appropriate to tutor you for your biology quiz coming up. He was so much better at math and science than you were, and teaching you only seemed fair since he was pretty much gliding through Winford's class because of your notes. He stopped for lunch first, showing you his favorite deli around the corner from the school. It was a hole-in-the-wall kind of joint but there was something about their pickles that he claimed to be superior. He'd picked up a few sandwiches before you took off on your drive, the brown paper bag secure in your lap. He drove up to the lake a few miles from campus parking with the bed of his truck backed up to the water. He guided you from the cab to the bed placing a blanket on the dirty cold metal before lifting you by your hips to sit and stare at the water.

"We can eat, sunshine, but then we need to crack open the books." He was giving you a warning tone as if he was the innocent one in all this. It had become a habit that more times than not during your study dates, it turned into a hot and heavy makeout session much like the first time you'd kissed.

"Keep your hands to yourself, Zimmerman, and we won't have a problem." You gave him a devious smile knowing he was incapable of not touching you in some way. He laughed as he pulled the paper-wrapped subs from the bag handing you one with a mischievous wink.

"The pickles are homemade." You made a face of disgust, "I know, but they don't use all that coriander and they let the brine sit for so long, it's actual perfection."

"Wow Philip, I didn't know that you were such a connoisseur of pickles." You were giving him a snooty face lifting your nose to the air.

"I wasn't until I had these. I'm telling you sunshine, they are amazing." You took a bite making an almost moaning noise. You shook your head in agreement as you chewed. "Right?! They are the best." He said before taking his own bite. Honestly, you may have been exaggerating your reaction just a tad. It was a good pickle but after the way, he'd talked it up you didn't want to disappoint him so you put on an acting cap and gave him a show. You'd work much harder to make him smile a lot less than that, it was a labor of care and he was worth it. After finishing your food the books were opened but only for a brief moment. You found your head drifting with the clouds asking Flip about what his plans were for after college, what he wanted, and what you wanted. Maybe your subconscious was bringing these things trying to build a bridge to construct the way your lives could fit together but in that moment it just felt like something for two people to talk about. It was mesmerizing watching the passion slide across Flip's face when he talked about the plans he'd had for his life. He would get lost in the idea of planning something for himself, feeling the full freedom in his voice while he subconsciously moved stray pieces of your hair from your face, twirling the ends of your locks in his fingers. Your chin resting on his shoulder as he pushed himself up on his elbows with his back flat to the truck bed. You'd told him about the idea of teaching and why it was so much more than a placeholder for you. How you wanted nothing more to make a difference in someone else's world even if it would seem insignificant to the rest of the world. You watched the way his hazel eyes shifted colors as the sun moved above you in the sky. Watching the honey of his eyes melt into the flecks of perfect forest greens. It felt like a dream watching the sun fall below the surface of the lake. He guided you back into the truck tucking the blanket under your feet along with the picnic trash. He hadn't meant to keep you out here as long as you were but when you were with Flip hours flowed by with such ease. He pulled you closer to him on the drive back tucking you under his arm as he used his right arm exclusively to steer. Your hand fell to his knee and you drew small circles over his jeans trying not to giggle at the way his breathing would hitch everytime you drew your hand closer to his belt. Walking you to your dorm had become a habit though he hadn't stayed all week. With classes in the early mornings and the lack of actual studying you two did together it wasn't logical, but since it was Friday and your past weekend had been spent in such a paradise you wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms tonight. Finding the courage to ask him to stay was the only falter you'd had because it had gone unspoken.