Not Figured Out Yet

Palm Trees and Kisses

One of the most trivial topics is love. It's the one that's featured everywhere, in every story imaginable. The beauty is not its concept, but its broad variety of stories and victims. There are plenty of suckers to love, and, oddly, people who fear the idea as well.
In the mid summer of my seventeenth year, I had a slight taste of my own. He was knew to Miami, and his name was Alex. He was a volunteer for our neighborhood's Clean The Beach program, where, twice a week, we picked up the polluted banks. I introduced myself as Kim instead of Kimberly, feeling as if I were deceiving the new kid.  Little did I know, he gave me an on-the-spot nickname as well. Al. Neither of us knew the other's ploy until that next week. My mother invited Al and his family over for a dinner party where each mother introduced each child, and I cringed as my mom gestured toward me and said "Kimberly," as did Al when his own mother gestured toward him and said "Alex." We smiled at each other then.
Alex and I became best friends, going to the beach every Saturday to participate in various activities such as surfing--in which I showed off a bit before realizing his own moves, later discovering he lived in California before coming here--volleyball, soccer, and cloud gazing. By the end of the summer, neither of us had thought much of being more than friends before eavesdropping on the adult conversation at yet another dinner party. That was the night of our first relationship conversation.

"Parents are so..." followed by, "Yeah," replied with, "I mean, not that, you know..." and then, "Yeah," and the ever confident, "So, uh..." and lastly, "Mm hm."
My moms loved gossiping with Kathy, and took turns watching football with Jim. Jim and Kathy were Al's parents, and on that first night at the dinner party, neither of the two were very talkative. I guess it was because of the whole gay thing, and although it made me roll my eyes sometimes, my moms were used to it.
Tonight they were talking about us.
"Al's turning in to such a handsome boy! He's developed so much in the past few months, it's like--I don't think I would recognize him if I didn't see him every day," my mother told Kathy, who agreed exuberantly.
"I couldn't agree more! I mean, just a few days ago Jim and I were talking about how pretty soon we'll have girls knocking on our door," Kathy giggled, "It's not every day you see a boy so handsome. I mean, not to sound like a blind mom or anything, really. And Kim! Oh my, she was a beauty before, but now. I mean, she's gorgeous! I wouldn't be surprised if the two of them got together and made the whole school jealous. Not that, you know...Kim wouldn't choose to date a girl," Kathy gestured toward my Mom and scratched her neck, trying not to seem too awkward. I stifled a laugh. "But I'm only saying. If they did. Boy, they'd be a power couple."
I looked over at Al and elbowed him in the ribs, rolling my eyes, but Alex was stiff beside me. I looked away, embarrassed, and soon I could feel him looking at me through the corner of his eyes. I brought my knees to my chest.
"Al?" followed by "Yeah?" replied with "Let's go play some basketball."

In my front yard there was a twelve foot hoop. The backboard was cracked in multiple places, and the the laces were frayed and ripped in some. The pole wobbled when you shot a basket and made a persistent knocking noise for a few seconds before it quieted. Every time I looked at the piece of junk, a pained nostalgia me in the gut. But I wouldn't think of that.
Al and I played P-I-G for a few minutes, me in the lead, and him with a P-I, before he made his palms in to a T, the universal signal for "Time Out" and also "I need to talk to you about how weird that was."
"Come on! Just lose like a...loser! Are you quiting? Come on!" I smiled in playful annoyance.
He shook his head, laughed, motioned for me to come sit at the curb--which was really our designated Popsicle eating bench.
"What's up?" I asked, putting the ball under my calves, which were stretched out on the asphalt road.
"I want to...I wanna ask you something." He studied a pebble which rolled around between his thumb and forefinger. It was a nice pebble.
"Shoot," I implored, already guessing at the topic of our conversation.
"Kim, I...Well, about what our moms were talking about..." He sighed.
"Yeah?"
"Kim. I. You. Have been the best friend I could have imagined. And I, well, I..." He grimaced, his tone hitching in to something which I had never known.
"You don't have to say it," I said, trying to hide the pain in my voice. "I know. You don't think of me that way. It's okay. I understand."
He looked baffled. "How did you--"
"Wild guess. We can get back to playing basketball now." I stood up, taking the ball with me. I dribbled it a few times before going for a shot. I missed.
"Kim. Would you look at me?"
I did. He looked pained.
"That's not what I was saying at all." He was cautious.
"Al, really, it's okay." I tried playing off the hurt by putting a little laugh in my voice. "I really do. Understand, I mean. You don't have to try and console me."
"Please. Just stop talking."
My throat burned. It was hard to swallow. My eyes stung.
"Kimberly, I do like you." He had never called me Kimberly before. "Can you--please?--can you come sit with me?"
I sat next to him slowly, looking at the ground.
"I was wondering, if, you know...you'd want to make the whole school jealous with me." He looked down at me through his lashes, and my heart sputtered. 
I looked up at him, a brilliant smile on my face.
"Wait...really? Like, no joke, this isn't an Al Thinks it's Funny Crushing Kim's soul type deal? It's really real?" I was dumbfounded, and exuberant, and I had a goofy grin on my face that would not budge no matter how I tried to persuade it.
"Really. Really, this is not an Al Wants to Step on Your Soul or whatever you said," he laughed. "It is. Real. So...yay? Nay?"
"I mean...yeah. I'd love to. I'd even settle for half the school," I smiled. There it was. There was the sappy quote meant to make the audience of my life story say, "Awwwwe!" And I was okay if it didn't serve its purpose. I was okay if a random person walking on the sidewalk heard our whole conversation and mentally gaged as they walked by, because this was my love story. This was my part, my contribution, to the broad variety. And it felt amazing.
I laced my fingers in his, and looked up at him to see his reaction. He was smiling right back at me.
"So are we supposed to kiss now?" I asked, never losing my smile, even though now I was joking.
"That would be great." He said nothing more. He was still looking at me.
My eyes widened in surprise, my heart fluttering in response, but he didn't move. He was just smiling, not coming closer, not obviously waiting for me to make the move. He was just matter-of-fact, and I loved it.
I stood up, tugging him along with me. I walked him to the palm tree that took residence next to the house. There was no window here, where parents could supervise this very intimate moment. "Alex." He looked down at me, excitement drawn across his face.
And in that moment I decided what I would do. My eyes closed. I slowly reached my face to his face, my lips to his lips. But I stopped.
I opened my eyes, the corners of my mouth testing the feeling of a frown. His own eyes were closed, and his breath hitched when I drew myself only a little closer. Then I smiled. And kissed him.

A|N
Hi! So here is chapter one of Not Figured Out Yet.
I dedicate it to hauntedspade who, at the time I wrote this--or typed, rather--is the one who gave me inspiration to continue...spewing my ideas.
So yeah.
Comment. Vote. Or don't. You know, whatever. (;
Thanks for reading.