This Year is My Year

Time to Miss Each Other

She refused to look at me, and I watched her shoulders rise, trying not to cry. I reached out to her, pulling her in close. She was still tense, not looking up at me.

"Steve was mad about me?"

She started crying and I tried to wipe them away. She shook her head and I stopped.

"Steve just thinks that he is watching out for me, and he's going about it the wrong way."

Look out for her? Anger rose in my chest – what was there to look out for?

"And he was being unfair, and petty, and got mad because he thinks that he knows what's best," she was being careful with her words, intentionally not telling me what he actually said.

"And he thinks that it's a bad idea for you to be with the freak," I was suddenly overwhelmed with sadness, thinking back to how perfect they would be together.

I felt her hands around my face, she was staring right at me now.

"Don't call yourself that," she said it forcefully, intentionally. She had stopped crying. "Don't talk about yourself like that."

My breathing had stopped, and I couldn't break away from her, even if I wanted to. I nodded weakly and she pursed her lips together. She pulled me in for a kiss, and I felt silly that she was the one consoling me now.

"Steve's just Steve. He gets something in his head and thinks that he's right until he's proven wrong. And he's wrong about you."

I grinned widely, feeling less and less like a charity case.

---

We stood on her front porch, saying our goodbyes.

I didn't want to leave – I could have stayed there all day, reading to her, touching her, just being with her – but she wisely suggested that I go home so I didn't make an excuse to miss school tomorrow.

"That way," she explained earlier, kissing my neck, making my face hot, trying to convince me, "we have time to miss each other."

I pulled my keys out of my pocket and grinned widely at her. She was beautiful, eyes glistening and smiling back at me. She looped her finger around one of my belt loops, pulling me to her.

"I'll miss you, Eddie Munson," she said before pulling me in for a kiss. I smiled through it, putting my hands around her neck and pulling her in deeper. I pushed her back against the wall of her house, my touch was getting desperate.

She wrapped her arms around my lower back, pulling me as close as possible. I moved away from her lips, moving down her neck as she gasped softly. I smiled at what my touch did to her. I fixated on my favorite spot of her neck, and I felt her laugh.

"Stop it, Eddie!" she giggled, pushing me away. I smiled, taking her in. I held my hands up, as if to say, "not touching", and leaned back to her neck for one more kiss.

"I'll miss you more," I kissed her deeply one last time, and then softly on the nose. She was flushed, smiling as I walked backwards. She waved and I turned, grinning wildly. A thought came to me, and I turned.

"Tomorrow night, I'm playing a gig with my band at the Hideout," I offered. "Could you come?"

I suddenly felt like when I first met her, nervous about what I had offered and worried about what she would think. She grinned that grin that always made me blush.

"Only if you sing a power ballad." I laughed and nodded.

"I'll pick you up then. Tomorrow around six?"