Still A Spark

Part 2

When I came back downstairs, embarrassed by what I almost let happen, I looked around, still angry I wasn't able to find Dylan.

I asked around, and someone finally directed me near the docks.

The path wasn't well lit, but after a few steps my eyes adjusted and I could clearly see two figures standing much too close to each other down the hill, near the water. Someone's head dipped. A moan escaped.

Then I heard a voice. "Oh, come off it darling. You know you want me."

It was Dylan. My heart pounded in my chest. Suddenly I didn't know anything anymore. Here he was, talking with some guy in a way he'd never spoken to me.

"Who is there?" The other voice called out. Dylan came to attention and looked directly at me looking directly back at him.

"Dylan? Have you seen Paul? I think he stole my panties!"

I heard a groan from Dylan, and he started to trudge back up the hill.

When Dylan came into view, there was a charming smile on his face. "Well, Cherry darling. We mustn't let you leave without your panties."

I couldn't tell if he was mad at me for making out with Paul, or mad because I interrupted him with whoever. We drove home in the dark. Dylan left the lights off as we came down the mountain. There were no other cars on the road, just the moonlight and us.

Dylan kept his eyes trained on the road, but his hand drifted up and started to play with my hair. I knew we would be okay.

When we reached his place, his roommates were all asleep so we sneaked quietly to his room. It was immaculate as always. Everything was black and white, with one splash of color just over his dresser; a gilded frame of an impressionist painting.

Dylan gestured for me to sit on the bed, and I did. Then he knelt before me. My heart started racing. I truly believed our relationship would find a new level of intimacy that night.

I wasn't wrong, but I wasn't right. He reached down, and removed my stiletto heels from my feet, then gave each one a quick rub. My feet cried with the sweet relief, and I wondered where his hands would go next. Then he stood up, walked over to his dresser and pulled out a tee shirt, and some basketball shorts.

"These should fit you darling, though the thought of seeing you so dressed down is too depressing to bear." He sniffed as he handed them over. "The bathroom is just through there. There's clean towels if you want to take a shower as well."

When I came back, changed into his clothes, we crawled into bed and he turned on his TV. Just as I knew an hour before we would be okay, I now wondered how we could ever possibly continue. I understood somewhere in my sleeplessness that we wanted very different things from one another. I wanted a real life boyfriend. He wanted an audience. These thoughts swirled in my head as we laid wrapped in each other's arms, watching When Animals Attack until we fell asleep.

He dropped me off at my door the next morning. I didn't know how to explain all the changes that happened in the hours before.

"It's okay, Cherry darling." Dylan assured me.

"No, I don't think it is, my dear."

He rubbed his hands up and down my arms. The friction spread warmth like a mother's hug through me.

"You're my one and only." Dylan whispered in my ear, before kissing my cheek. He stepped back.

"Don't you want to come in?" I asked, saddened by my sudden shyness.

He shook his head. His fingers made a frame of a heart over his own, and then he turned back to his car and drove away.

I stood on my porch, finally understanding what I didn't want to see.

Never was I so thankful for school. It kept my mind busy, too busy to think about Dylan or the way things ended. The memories of summer disappeared like the sun sets into the Pacific Ocean.

Thanksgiving and Christmas I stayed with friends, knowing the chance of running into Dylan would be small. During spring break, my father wanted my help with remodeling the dining room and so home I went. Standing on my porch, I watched the misty rain gather on blades of grass and flower petals. Home felt foreign to me somehow.

In an effort to rediscover my town and myself, I wandered my way to Pioneer Square Mall. Just outside, I heard a squeal from a small girl child. She watched in delight as a living statue of a golden disco boy broke out into song and dance. Enchanted, I moved closer, and then realized who was under all the golden paint.

Dylan finished his mini performance, and then moved back into position. One arm pointed to the sky, the other posted firmly on his halfcocked hips. I stared up at him, wondering if he saw me, if he recognized me. I dropped a dollar into the fishbowl below his feet.

He looked down at me, and though a smile didn't cross his face, I could see the mischief in his gaze. Instead of breaking into dance like the one he had for the little girl, he lowered his pointed finger until it landed on a person across the street. I followed his direction and saw the overweight, over-bearded, over-pierced cyclist to which Dylan was pointing. I looked back at him. There was still a spark between us. I could feel the pang of excitement brewing.

"That's your boyfriend." I said.

Dylan grinned. "For you, Cherry darling." He turned on our song, and danced.