As I lie here, staring at my ceiling fan, I’m sixteen, writing notes to Dakota in class and hoping I don’t get caught. She’s giggling at the words I’ve written down, sexual innuendos that I knew would make her smile. Our teacher was so oblivious most days that we would pass notes back and forth the entire period and never get caught. On this particular day, much to our misfortune, he noticed. He caught me red-handed and forced me to read the message in front of the entire class.
My cheeks burned as I spoke, something along the lines of her tasting like chocolate-covered strawberries and that I couldn’t wait to devour her.
Oh, man, I was lame as hell.
The class snickered, but Dakota sat with her back straight, smiling at me. She looked at me like she wasn’t a lick embarrassed, like she couldn’t wait to jump my bones.
I honestly thought that she was only trying to make me feel less mortified, to show solidarity against a teacher that would make me reveal such a thing to everyone.
But when we were walking home, she did, in fact, push me into a corner of her backyard and jump my bones.
It’s hard to believe we were only teens when we were together. We went through so much, so many firsts, good and bad. We were good together and we still can be. Memory after memory floods through my dark bedroom and my bed has never felt so empty.
Friday can’t come soon enough.
• • •
Friday is here, faster than I expected.
Yesterday, after classes, I worked at Grind until closing. Posey and Aiden were both there, but Aiden was surprisingly quiet. Uncharacteristically so. He seemed to be concentrated on something somewhere else, or maybe he got a therapist who told him that being an obnoxious douche was at the core of his problems.
Whatever the reason, I was glad for it.
Dakota texted me twice yesterday, and once this morning, just to tell me that she can’t wait to see me. Her sudden return to affection is still slightly confusing, but with each bit of attention she feeds me, my loneliness fades.
It’s such an instinctual thing, needing companionship. I never thought of myself as a person who needed someone else to make himself feel complete, and sometimes I question why humans are made this way.
Why is it that since the beginning of our history, we crave company, and we strive to find love? The goal of life, whether you’re religious or not, is to find companionship in friends and in lovers.
Humans are needy creatures, and it turns out I’m very, very human.