Love and the Phantom Queen of Suburbia

The Transitive Property of Kissing *Wattpad Exclusive Content*

I recently received a message out of the blue from someone with whom I used to occasionally go out on the town. There was a definite, if unadmitted, one-way crush there, on my part; I flit in and out of crushing with so many of my friends. 

The message brought back a memory of one particular evening at the dance club Confetti's, which has since closed. The stone façade and sign felt very Art Deco. It was a pretty cool place.    

She and I separated at some point in the evening. I saw a handsome stranger, who looked very hot and a little sweaty. Perhaps a normal girl would've offered to buy him a drink. In my tipsy state, with questionably bold tactics, I said hello and asked if he'd like some ice, from my glass. Was it summer? The interior of the bar was quite warm.

This was many years pre-pandemic. Maybe he still should've feared germs or something, but he accepted my offer and took the glass from my hands. Did he let the ice melt on his tongue, or did he chew it? I don't recall. 

He thanked me, and apologized, explaining that he was out with a female friend who'd been treated very poorly by someone she'd been dating. He and some of her other guy friends had taken her out to cheer her up. In other words, it wasn't a good time for him to meet someone. She'd be upset if he was caught flirting with me.

Nothing even happened, but I was so excited by this small exchange that I later related it to my friend's husband, with great enthusiasm. I was still deflated that he didn't want to keep talking. Doubtless, a hint of wistfulness crept into my voice when I told the story. Retrospectively, I think her husband found the whole thing quite amusing, but he was kind enough to just smirk and encourage me.

To you, accepter of ice cubes, that kind of loyalty is impressive. You did seem quite genuinely disappointed about what might have been, what almost happened and didn't, between us. Wherever you are, I remember you, still, even if you may have forgotten me.

Many, many years before this, a boy crush and I drank out of the same soda can. I think it was his, and I wanted some, just assuming he'd be okay with it. Our friends teased us, saying we'd "kissed" by drinking from the same can. Nothing ever happened there, either. I wrote him a very dramatic postcard while on a family vacation, telling him it was "over." Later on, I regretted it, but it had already been sent. Alas. Young love. We never even dated. 

To my friend, we've drifted into acquaintance status, tugged in different directions by life. All the same, I hope you're doing well. Thank you for getting me out of my head and into the moment, as needed, flirting and dancing and mischief-making.