Jeans
Ever since I met her, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. She worked next door to the bike shop. Two years older than me. After work, she’d come to the bike shop, and we’d chat together.
She had a shy, beaming smile. And sometimes, she’d show her tough, big-sister side. I grew more and more fond of these sides of her.
I found myself more and more attracted to her.
…What does she think of me?…
After her bike was delivered, I often ended up giving her rides from work to her dorm. We’d ride along the coastal road, stop for dinner along the way, and then I’d drop her off.
I’d look at her in the rearview mirror and think. I’d watch her ride ahead of me and think. I’d sit across from her during dinner and think…
…”How can I get her out of those jeans?”…
That’s all I could think about.
Since we were always on our bikes, we’d go out for meals, but never for drinks.
“How about we grab a drink tonight?”
“Sure.”
“Well, I’ve got work, so let’s go after I finish.”
After we went for drinks, I started watching the clock. As the last train passed, I said aloud,
“Oh no, I missed the last train.”
It was a childish plan—to miss the last train and invite her to a hotel—but she responded with,
“Come to my dorm.”
Surprisingly, she invited me to her dorm. Sneaking into a girls’ dorm with curfew and a dorm mother—that was something I couldn’t even imagine as a high school student. But it turned out to be surprisingly easy. The window had been left unlocked, and her roommate had been arranged to leave.
It was all perfectly planned by her, two years older than me.
…”How can I get her out of those jeans?”…
The answer came easier than I expected.