Night in the Ruts

The Girl in the Yellow Corvette - Steven

I had a dream about this once. It was an awesome dream. It involved a girl in a yellow Corvette and... That's all I'm gonna say. Hopefully, my dream will come true soon.

So we saw a movie and afterwards, because it's the middle of fall, it was dark out. Charlie started her car, but didn't drive. I started talking. She looked so fucking... sexy in those sunglasses. Shit, she just looked that way with the car in general. But maybe that's because I was thinking about my dream.

I realized, as we were sitting in the car in the movie theater parking lot, that I have this affection for her. It's kind of an intense feeling. Rather deep, too.

We ended up kissing. Again. Though it was different this time. Because no one was there to stop us. Charlie's a really good kisser. Her lips–a little chapped from the cold, but that's okay–fit perfectly with mine. She also fit perfectly against me. Like, I had an arm around her (for the whole movie!), and she just fit. Perfectly. Like we're two puzzle piece meant to fit together. Oh, how fucking cliché.

So yeah, we were kissing and I was loving every minute of it. I chose to take a long shot, and traced my tongue along her bottom lip, basically begging for entry.

Access granted!

Okay, imagine the most perfect kiss in the world. Got it? Now make it ten thousand times better. Okay? That's not even half of how good this kiss is.

I love the way her lips feel against mine. I love the way she feels against me. I love the way she's so shy but whips out some sarcastic comment. I love her eyes, her laugh, her smile. I love the way her accent comes out when she's upset or nervous or something–I think it's adorable. I love everything about Charlie. Every single little quirk just makes her more perfect. Do you know why she's so perfect? Because she's imperfect. All the groupies or whatever you want to call them are what you'd call the perfect woman. I've described them before. Blond, curves, all that jazz. And they do whatever you want, too.

Not Charlie. Remember the first time I kissed her? She said, "What the fuck was that?" or something. She didn't ask for more, though she wanted it. She does things when she wants to do things. And I love that too.

The kiss doesn't last as long as I'd like it to, though. As I've mentioned, Charlie is very new to all this, so she hasn't quite mastered the breathing-through-your-nose technique yet. And that just makes her all the more perfect.

"I told Alice I'd only be like an hour," she confesses quietly, trying not to sound breathless.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she says back. "So I should probably go home."

Damn. I don't want her to go home. Can't I spend the rest of the night with her? "Do you have to?" I ask.

"Yeah," she says again, still trying to catch her breath. "I do."

I sigh, giving her room to put the car in reverse. We ride in silence back to the record store, where my car awaits, pounded by the pouring rain. It was getting kind of bad. She parked next to my car. "Drive safe," I muttered, watching the rain fall.

"You too," she said back, not wanting me to leave either. So I don't. I kiss her again, throwing all the passion I can into it. But I cut it short, not really wanting to drive home in a blizzard of downpour.

"Bye," I say, opening the door to a blast of cold air.

"See ya," she calls after me. She waits until my car starts–with my luck it'll stall–and then she drives away, in the opposite direction that I go.