in all that time means I’ve got
a fair amount of catching up to do.
I HAVEN’T CAUGHT ALL THE WAY
Up yet. Haven’t gone all the way
“there,” not that he’s asked to.
Part of me really likes that—
that he respects me enough
not to pressure me into something
I’m probably not ready for. Part
of me wonders if I’m not good
enough for him to even want to try.
It’s warped. So am I. Although
I have to say, with Bryce in my life
I feel a little less distorted than
I used to. He grounds me. Not only
that, but for once, people at school
don’t look at me like I’m a complete freak.
Not with Bryce’s arm around my waist
as he walks me to class. Not when they see
us steal kisses (you’re not supposed
to swap spit in the hallways). Not when
they see us come and go in his car,
stereo blaring. Sometimes grunge,
sometimes country. I’m happy to listen
to Three Days Grace. And, with some
coaxing, he’ll agree to Toby Keith,
though I haven’t quite convinced him
Toby’s music is rock with a Texas
drawl. On weekends we manage
to steal some time together, if I can