Here's a story without an ending. I've left it wide open so you can write your own ending. Let me know what you write.
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I loved her deep blue eyes and the way she smiled. One side of her mouth was always a little higher. It looked quirky but sexy. I loved the way she spoke too. She had a deep voice for a girl but she spoke slowly. It was seductive. Nobody sounded like her. Nobody looked like her. She was smart. She remembered everything and seemed to know what everyone was thinking. Even me. She always seemed to know what I was thinking. Even when she was wrong, I let her think she was right. It didn't matter. She mattered more to me than anything. She was irresistible.
It has been a long, slow summer day. We sat on the front porch that evening, squeezed closely together with her body pressed tightly against mine. With my hand on her leg, hers was wrapped around mine. Rubbing it softly with a touch that I would never forget. Soft. Gentle. Sensitive. It was an unusually cool day coming to an end. As the sun was slowly dropping behind the green flowing hills, the sidewalk was full of people. Old couples taking their evening walk, joggers and the usual dog walkers. It seemed that everyone was out that night and everyone of them noticed us. You could tell they thought we were too young to be sitting so close and for her to be touching me like that. You could see it in way they looked at us then looked away. I didn't care and neither did she.
Every time we got 'that look' she gave my hand a little squeeze and rubbed her thumb across the back of my hand. Sometimes I got nervous. I was afraid I wasn't smart enough for her. Not good looking enough. I'm smarter than most of the kids in my school but not like her. All the girls want to be her and all the boys want to be with her. I felt like she was out of my league. Better than me. But whenever I started getting that feeling like I wasn't good enough, I would feel that little squeeze of my hand as she'd turn her head toward me and smile. That quirky, sexy smile. That's all it took for her to tell me she's mine and I'm hers. Maybe she was better than me, but when we were together, we were one. There was no smarter or better looking. There was just us.
Always within her arm's reach was an old, tattered blue bag that was full of seemingly meaningless things. They had to be meaningless. She never opened the bag. She never put anything in and never took anything out. It was always just there by her side. She took it with her everywhere and it never left her sight. Quirky I always though, just like her smile. Brains, beauty and a tattered blue bag. Somehow, they were all one. Occasionally I'd asked her about that blue bag. "Why keep that old bag?", "Why is it always so close to you?", "What's so important about it?" She'd only look at me and smile. She'd never say. It didn't matter. To me, it was just there.
As the sun was setting and the evening chill was blowing in. She press her body closer to mine. Sharing her body with me to stay warm. Squeezing closer as the cool breeze would gently blow the leaves across the yard.
Just as I was thinking it was time to go home, she turned her head toward me and smiled. Her smile was magnificent but this time it was different. You could see it in her eyes. Like she was telling me a secret but she hadn't said a word yet. It seemed like forever before she said something but it was probably just a second or two. "Do you want to know about my bag? Are you ready to learn my secrets? Do you trust me?" she asked. My mind started to race. Again, she was one step ahead of me. Suddenly there were these three questions all in one. The bag. The old tattered blue bag full of who knows what. I never thought it was full of 'secrets'. And why would she question if I trusted her? Suddenly the meaningless tattered blue bag that was always just there would have meaning. But what?
My heart starting to pound as I said "Yes". That was all I could think to say. My mind went blank. That's never happened to me before. Not with her. I've never felt nervous with her. I was always comfortable. We've gone to the same school since kindergarten and have been together for months. She could tell I was nervous as she stood up with my hand in her right hand and the old blue bag in her left. She turned and moved toward the front door. I opened it, we walked in and I closed the door behind us. Her parents had a rule. Nobody in the house when they weren't home. I usually respected their rules and so did she. Not this time. This time was special and we both knew it.
Still holding my hand, she headed toward the stairs. Upstairs was her bedroom. I had been up there before but that was Rule #2. Visitors weren't allowed upstairs. Especially not boys. I'd been in her house a hundred times when her parents were home but even then, upstairs was off limits. As we moved toward the stairs my heart pounded harder. I could feel myself starting to sweat. I was nervous. What was happening?
As we reached the bottom of the stairs, she turned her head and looked me in the eyes. This time, there was no smile. Just a look deep into my soul. She was smart. She knew what I was thinking. She knew how I would react. She was in control and she knew it. She was still the same person, but suddenly we weren't equal anymore. She was in control and we both knew it. As she was still looking into my eyes she put the strap of her bag over her left shoulder. Then with her left hand she reached for the hand rail as she turned and began up the stairs. I knew that there was more to the bag than just what was inside it. She could open the bag anywhere to show me what's inside but she's not going to do it just anywhere. She has a plan. She's thought about this moment. She knows what she's doing and she's one step ahead.
As we head up the stairs, there's only a slight glow of sunlight left as the summer sun has set behind the hills. The little amount of light coming in through the upstairs windows casts long shadows across the ceiling. It's all a little different. A little exciting. A little eerie.
As we reach the top of the stairs, I can see inside the three bedrooms. Her parents, her brothers and hers. The house is dead silent. We're the only ones there and the only thing I can hear is my own breathing. My heart is beating so hard it feels like it's going to break out of my chest. I look to the left into her parents' bedroom. Something inside me makes me wish they were home. Someone to tell us that we shouldn't be up there. Someone else to be in charge. I'm starting to want to turn around and leave but I can't. I've always trusted her. We've always been equal. But now... now things feel different. She hasn't said a word but she's in control of me. It's like I'm watching a movie. Trying to tell the person "Don't go in there! Don't do it!". But it's not a movie, it's real and it's me being led into something that's scaring the hell out of me and I can't stop.
She turns slowly toward her bedroom. She can feel that I'm nervous. She knows that if she moves too fast or says anything that I may say what's on my mind. She rubs her thumb across the back of my hand and gives it hand a little squeeze. Just like she always does. Just enough to remind me that it's her. We walk into her bedroom and just as I clear the doorway, she turns and slowly closes the door. With the tattered blue bag still on her shoulder she turns the lock on her door. Nobody will come in. Nobody will see me in there.
With the door locked she slowly let my hand drop as she walked around the other side of her bed. She slipped the strap of her old blue tattered bag from her shoulder as she looked up and smiled. That quirky smile with those deep blue eyes. She was still in control. She had a plan and it was working.
Looking down toward her bed she reaches out and opens the flap over the top of her bag. I was finally going to see what's inside. Her secrets and more. I never wondered so much about what was in that tattered blue bag. Now I feel like I have to know but I don't want to. I'm not sure. I'm confused.
She grabs the bottom of that bag with both hands, ready to turn it over and expose everything to me. She's ready to expose her most personal secrets and it's happening now. She starts to pick up the bottom of the bag and as the open top tips toward the bed she stops and looks up into my eyes one last time. For a second she just looks at me. Into my soul. Making sure she knows the answer before she asks it. Then knowing my answer, she smiles and says "are you ready?"
How do you think it should end?
