[all song lyrics: "this time of year," better than ezra]
"well there's a feeling in the air, just like a friday afternoon..."
the florida night is humid and sultry in mid-may. it's the kind of feeling that makes a girl feel like getting in trouble, and luckily for me, tonight's that kind of night. downtown music festival, my favorite band: the makings of a perfect spring night out. even though i have the ostensible supervision of one of my most rational friends, i know full good and well that a night like this is open to nothing but the best possibilities.
"there's your first car on the road and the girl you steal..."
he's undoubtedly too old for me. that much is obvious from the dog tags, the car keys, and the gigantic cans of foster's he holds in both hands. but that smile. this man - and he is DEFINITELY a man - is not boyfriend material. good thing that's not what i'm out for. with my suddenly extraneous buddy in tow, i make my way to the front of the crowd, right up there by the stage, and right up to the edge of his crew. "hey javier! we need more BEER!" he yells, then turns and looks at me. "oh. hey."
trying very hard not to blush, i take a look at those amazingly gray eyes and say, "hey yourself." head up, chest out, smile and sell it. this just got a LOT more interesting.
"well, i know there's a reason to change..."
"what's your name, hon?" i tell him something that sounds right. i mean, not like it matters tonight. his name is clint, or chris, or something normal and solid. we chat about nothing for awhile, the crowd filling in around us. just then, the guitars start, the lights go up, and the show starts. within five minutes, the sailors around us are drunkenly slam-dancing to the dulcet tones of alterna-pop, something i didn't realize was possible until now. the show is amazing, as always.
"seems like it's always understood this time of year..."
ah, the slower songs. the navy pilots may actually stop chucking beer cans at the stage for a few minutes. no, wait; there goes another one. full this time, too. great. i always wanted to smell like a brewery. i borrowed this shirt from my most sexually successful friend, too. oh well; that's why the good lord gave us washers, i guess. but this girl's got some talents, and her wardrobe's a large part of those talents. the shirt's helping me, too. clint-or-chris can't take his eyes off me. heh. awesome. i have no idea what happened to my buddy; he got swallowed up by the mosh pit twenty minutes ago.
and that's when i feel it. i look to my right, and with no provocation whatsoever, this amazingly beautiful man has his arm around my waist. oh, glory. it worked. this NEVER works for me. and he's leaving it there. oh, man. if he only knew... and that's why he'll never know exactly who i am.
"so go on, let it be, when there's a feeling coming over me..."
just like that, the show's over. i've got maybe twenty minutes to keep up the charade. as the crowds part, and javier starts yelling for clint-or-chris to head over to the bar for last call, he says to me with this delicious smile, "so you coming back tomorrow?"
i'm not, obviously. it's a two-hour drive between here and home. but he doesn't have to know that. "yeah, we'll see. i got a thing tomorrow."
"hey, that's cool. maybe i'll see you around sometime." and the kiss he finishes the word "sometime" with will resonate long after this night is over. right there, in front of hundreds of people, with no regard for anything. just me, this random stranger, the moonlight, the perfect moment. as he turns to go, he shoots that killer smile. "have fun tonight."
that's when i realize that my sweet, rational friend is staring at me, open-mouthed. "oh, my god. did you just do that?"
"yeah. i did, didn't i?" i feel just a little different in this moment than i did the moment before. more beautiful, more exotic, more... grown, i guess. oh yeah. this is the kinda night i like. i don't ever want to lose this feeling: the rock star, the trophy, the girl who's so beautiful and perfect that he has to kiss me right there. there's nothing in this world i want more.
we turn and head towards the meeting place. my dad's picking us up in ten minutes. eleventh grade just got a ton more interesting. and hell, it's almost summer. there'll be nothing but mugginess, moonlight, and time to kill. and i'll own every last second of it.
"yeah, you can feel it in the air, feelin' right this time of year."
Letter 70: Be Louder
4 weeks ago