It just so happens that my seminar project and class project tie in. My seminar project is about music in YAL, and for my class project I've decided to go the chapter from a YA novel route. The rock 'n roll part comes in because I'm basing the story on a Phish song, "Sample in a Jar." It's loosely based of course, and I'm enjoying taking liberties with what is actually going on, and it's kind of neat when I realize how to incorporate more of the song into the plot of the story. I'm notoriously short winded, so this will probably have to be more than one chapter for my project, but so far I have...
She’s holding my hand. She’s actually holding my hand.
I realize that’s not the biggest step for most seventeen year-olds, but this was major. I had just lost my virginity, and the world had changed.
We were walking down a road I must have walked down a million times. But all of the sudden, the glisten from the moonlight on the newly wet road was amazing. The shadows from the pine trees lining the ditch were shouting their congratulations and providing the specific contour and relief that echoed my life. And through all this, Danielle was holding my hand. We’d walked home together from parties more than a handful of times in the past two years, but now, she was holding my hand, fingers interlaced. We weren’t jumping around with drunken frenzy or too-ra-looing arm in arm up the lane. We were, for once, walking on the side of the road with a sidewalk, and we were sharing an intimate moment. Granted it wasn’t as intimate as the moment we had just shared, and that, that wasn’t even near our heads yet. The only thing we were doing was reveling in the moment. At least, I know I was; I hope she was. That need and insecurity was fleeting though. Those fears did not last within the grasp of her four fingers and gorgeous thumb.
"So how come you don’t have to be home at twelve tonight?" When she tilted her head to ask me, I almost dove for her lips; she was breathtaking.
"My parents are in Tampa. I can’t believe they let me stay home alone, but they knew I didn’t wanna miss any baseball, and they booked the trip last year, so..."
"So, I’m staying over tonight?"
"Your parents aren’t gonna care if you don’t come home?"
"No, they will. I was just seeing what you’d say. Always the practical thinker."
"I guess I’ve been trained poorly." And I really had. I could banter back and forth with girls easily, but something always crept up in me when I had a chance to cut loose.
"I really would like it though, if you were able to stay at my house." At least I knew how to try to recover.
"It’s ok. We’ve got a whole week."
Some how, that thought had not yet crossed my mind. We were on our way home from the first party of Spring Break. It was Friday night, well, Saturday morning, and that meant six more days of no school and no commitments, except baseball.
"So," she was looking so good, "Are you going to throw a rager this week?"
"No," again, poorly trained. "My parents made it vividly clear that if I did the next time I got out of the house would be fall when they dropped me off at college."
"I guess that’s ok. More alone time for us."
Is she really saying this. Oh my God, yes! I was really ready for God to strike me dead right then. My life could not get any better. Danielle McConnell was excited to spend alone time with me. She sounded excited anyways; damn, I wished she was as excited as I was picturing.
When we rounded the curve and her house came into view, I was praying we would be magically whisked miles away and have to walk every step of it back to her house. I wanted to keep the feeling of that walk home for as long as I could. The sidewalk never felt so good, and when we walked through her front yard, I was miraculously enjoying the dew of the grass on the foot-beds of my sandals. I hate sandal swamp, and I was loving every minute of this; she was amazing.
We kissed goodnight for a while. At one point when we fell back a little too far and a lot too quickly into the pillars of her stoop, I thought for sure that her parents were going to wake up and kill me, but nothing happened. Nothing could ruin that night. The cosmos must have aligned to make sure that everything worked out for us.
After we finally said goodnight, I began the walk down the cobblestone path that lead to the sidewalk, and she softly called my name.
"Tripp."
I looked back, and she was lightly leaning against a pillar. She was on the toes of her right foot with the other tracing the step of the stoop. Her head was tilted and wisps of blonde hair were lightly catching the soft breeze and falling into her majestic dark eyes. I wanted to fucking melt. "What’s up?" I questioned in my best trying-to-be-smooth-yet-not-wake-anyone-voice.
"Call me tomorrow?"
"Most definitely."
The remainder of my walk was spent replaying the last three hours in my head. She lived close by, so it wasn’t a long walk, but I had never quite made it so effortlessly to the corner of my street from her house before that night. When I turned onto Ferncliff Lane, I crossed to the middle of the street. I normally walked down the center of the road. A streetlight snapped off directly above my head. I didn’t think much of it, and I continued down the center of the sleepy street until it was time to veer to the left and up my drive. My key hit the lock on the side door, and I enjoyed the feeling of not having to breath in anyone’s face the moment a noise was heard in the house. My parents were loving, supportive, and paranoid. Well, I guess it’s not paranoia when what you think is happening is actually happening. I was quite the cover-up artist.
I walked up the three set flight of stairs into the kitchen and directly to the fridge. Officially not being a virgin did nothing for the beer-munchies; in fact, sex really was a workout. I grabbed a piece of leftover pizza and collapsed into the velvety cushions of the couch in the next room. Normally I would have turned on the Sportscenter, but I was enjoying the way the streetlight was creeping through the window. The slants of orange light that fell across the coffee table by my feet was strangely attractive at that moment. I gobbled down the slice of pizza and enjoyed the silence of a vacant house. I had never known anything like the feeling of that night, and I knew that when I woke up the feeling would be less than it was in the near darkness of my living room at that moment.
-Any feedback anyone has would be welcomed. As of yet, I have not cemented a title.
Matt, thanks for sharing...more on your work later.
Is this your seminar invitation?? I think your peers should respond to it as your seminar invitation. KES
Posted by: Karen | April 20, 2006 at 07:18 AM
If this is your seminar sign-up, please count me in!
~Jenn
Posted by: jmachampagne | April 20, 2006 at 12:01 PM