(Note: I'm actually writing this quite a long time later, after I've finished later posts that in the story timeline. Procrastination ahoy! Parts of this post are also slightly PG-13)
After
the incident of 'no game', I was left with a lot of regrets. I just
hated
missing out on a potential opportunity. I wouldn't have minded if he had
said no/ nothing had happened but I knew that I could have totally
invited him to
my room to at least talk without it being awkward so I just felt like
that was
stupid of me to not give it an opportunity. This was an unfamiliar
feeling for me - I've never felt like I clearly missed a chance.
As I may have mentioned, I spent the summer in a different place. However, I did get to visit from one Wednesday night-Sunday afternoon. He met me at the airport because I asked him to since my mum wanted someone to meet me if I was taking a night flight, and I decided to be brave and ask him to be this person. He was a little bit late (as ever) but I didn't mind. When he got there, I was sitting at the coffee shop and we just hugged - after a little wave from him and a "Really? You aren't going to hug me?" from me. The first thing he noticed was the height of my heels (that couldn't fit in the suitcase I had stuffed with things I planned to leave there).
In the taxi home, we talked about the usual things - books, people, lives, stories - and I sat in the centre of the back seat with him to my left, acutely aware of his presence and feeling a bit of wild nervous energy slightly in the distance of my mind. I was staying at a friend's place and some friends had gathered there to welcome me, so he just joined us there after he helped me carry my stuff up.
That was something I appreciated - since all my friends have known each other well for quite a few years and can sometimes be a little insular and it's hard to hang out with a group of people that all have known each other for a while and meet all of them at once. Additionally, they all (of course) knew who he was and kept trying to give us time to talk meaning they didn't make as much effort to talk to him.
So we were all drinking and he was somewhat quiet and we sat on a couch a little bit to the side and I tried to include him in conversation and give him some time to interact on his own. I got pretty tipsy after not feeling it for a while, and the night passed pretty quickly. When people were heading out, I decided for some reason (probably because I wanted to spend more time with him) that I wanted to walk him home because he was the only person that lived a 15-minute walk away and I felt bad about him walking back alone.
It was probably around 2 a.m. at this point, and my friends were pretty concerned as they didn't know him particularly well and weren't sure whether he would actually allow me to walk back drunk by myself after dropping him off. However, I am no less stubborn when drunk and insisted on leaving with him and two other friends (both of whom immediately and impressively disappeared once we went down the stairs, aided somewhat intentionally by my going to look for them on the wrong side of the back road). I was at least wearing flats (flip-flops to be precise) at this point.
We walked over to his place in the balmy summer weather, with tipsy me partly using the liquid courage in order to hold on to his arm and lean on him. At some point, my hand slipped into his and my heart did a frantic dance ('WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!!') but I had no reaction on the surface. We continued walking, his grip getting tighter as we passed through deserted back streets that I knew but he was unfamiliar with.
I acceded to his request and we moved to the equally deserted but more central road. We were still holding hands and I was enjoying our leisurely stroll very much. I can't remember if we were even talking, but I remember him stopping me to tell me that there was someone following us whose shirt had changed colour from black to white.
I was pretty confused and sure he was drunk, but upon turning around discovered that he wasn't completely inaccurate - there was indeed someone in white that appeared to be following us. Weirdly, I don't remember being scared at all. Maybe I felt safe with him. I think he wanted to try and turn around and confront the person, but (remembering every lesson from every horror movie ever) I yanked his hand pretty firmly to prevent him from going back. Instead, I pulled him forward and we continued at a slightly more rapid pace.
A few minutes later, I turned around again, and this time thought that I recognized my friend. This was one of the friends that had left to 'walk' with us, and I assumed he was following to make sure I was safe. I didn't mention this to F because I wasn't particularly sure and preferred to leave the element of suspense a little bit. I did shoot off a text to the friend, and grew increasingly more sure as we kept walking (though I didn't receive an affirmative reply until morning).
I did continue to turn around periodically during the rest of our walk, both to check whether the person was still there and try to recognize them, and to make him see that I was potentially worried about this. These times he kept tugging on my hand to keep me walking.
Once we got to his place, I said something to the effect of "Well, bye!" but he refused to let me walk home alone. I argued this with him for a while, and he agreed that I was perfectly capable but still wouldn't let me walk home alone. To be honest, I have no idea why I was having this argument - if he had actually let me walk home alone I would have been both disappointed and hurt. And the town really is very deserted at night, especially over the summer. I remember uttering something to the effect of "What was the point of walking all this way if you weren't going to let me walk home alone?" (my friends had a lot of responses to this question later).
So we walked back towards where I was staying, albeit using a slightly different route, still hand in hand. This way took us past more of campus, and I remarked on how beautiful and quiet it was during the summer, and we somehow hit upon the idea of going to visit the lake near our campus. I think I remember him tugging me in that direction, but it was a pretty mutual decision.
I remember stopping at some point to turn around and look and see if we were still being followed (we were not after leaving his place), partly because I wanted to stop and see if he would come back for me. He did somewhat, or at least called me forward and I shook aside my foolishness.
When we got to the lake, I left my blazer and phone and shoes next to the pile with his backpack before we climbed over the fence to get to the rocks near the lake. I assumed we were just going to sit on the rocks and talk for a while, and was definitely taken aback when he started pulling off clothes.
He then jumped into the lake with only his underwear on and I was incredibly confused and somehow felt pressed for time and a little unsure and ended up jumping into the lake with my dress on. It was a light cotton tank dress so it wasn't the worst situation, but it was still not the best idea. And I was even wearing cute underwear...not sure what the confusion was about. Probably alcohol.
The lake was cool but not too cold. Before I jumped I was a little worried that this would be one of those stories where drunk people made poor decisions and bad things happened, but the lake was shallow for a long way so we were basically just sitting in the water. We paddled around (he went a lot closer to the shore, we jumped in on the side, somewhere near the middle) not particularly near each other, and I enjoyed relaxing in the water doing my own thing and paddling around. I paddled out to see if it got deeper, and felt the water get distinctly colder and sensed it was about to get deeper and stopped there. Mostly I just enjoyed paddling and floating around as he did his own thing.
Definitely distinctly thought that this would be the perfect moment for him to kiss me in the lake with the moonlight and signs looked promising, and yet it felt like a distant thought and not too real. And he didn't, but I wasn't really disappointed. We chatted a little also. A while later, he got cold, but I was happy paddling around and didn't want it to end, so he had to ask a couple of times before I was ready to go.
When we climbed out, my dress was completely soaked, and I was rather chilly. I sat on the fence we had climbed over for a little bit and he stood in front of me as we waited for our clothes/ selves to dry a little bit. He was shirtless and cold and I remember I hugged him for a while in an attempt to keep warm as he stood facing me and I leaned my head on his shoulder.
It was chilly and I didn't want to ruin my nice work blazer with my wet dress, so I convinced him to give me the striped blue button down he was wearing over his white v-neck, then wore that as a jacket over my dress, despite feeling guilty about his chilliness.
He needed to use the bathroom, so we headed towards the nearby student centre, which was obviously closed. Upon finding an open door in the basement, we snuck in, and decided to go upstairs to some student offices on the third floor that he had access to, after he went to the loo. Unfortunately, the door to access these areas was locked (as it often is at night, especially over the summer). We moved to the service elevator, which would get us inside, but got distracted upon discovering that there was a fourth floor hitherto unknown.
With a vague aim of getting the the roof, we went to the fourth floor, which was mostly dark and used for storage/ pipes. The drunkenness did not help us locate the roof, though I did climb a ladder somewhat reluctantly (in front of him, so he could catch me in case of trouble; complaining about my anxiety with heights) only to find that whatever trapdoor it led to was locked. We didn't get much more of a chance to explore/ were leaving when he warned me in a whisper about a guard and began running.
The guard, who might have been upstairs to check out mysterious figures on the security camera, missed him but made eye contact with me, at which point I began running too. Somehow we found the stairs and sprinted downstairs, only to find locked doors. We ran to a different route (at this point my flip-flops were out and in my hand) and finally made it out of the front door without incident. I have no idea if the guard in the safety vest was even following us, but I didn't want to get caught and find out. I did have a plan to tell him I went to another university if caught, which worked since I had no id on me.
After we ran down the slope outside our student centre, I slipped my shoes back on and we switched to more of a walk, holding hands again. I think at some point he slipped away for the bathroom again, while I leaned on the bridge and watched the lake and thought about not very much at all (apart from the fleeting thought about him washing his hands).
Still, we kept walking in the direction of where I was staying. On the way though, we passed by the entrance of one of the underground tunnels on campus, which both of us had wanted to explore (or at least I had, now that I think he might have been there before). I guess neither of us was quite ready for the night to end, because we ended up climbing down to them.
I went first and commented on how he was always making me go first (especially since this was into a dark pit), to which his counter was that I wouldn't be able to lift the entrance covering back in place. On my way down, I felt reluctant about jumping down from the bottom of the ladder to the dark floor, so I squatted on a large pipe running along the wall with the same sense of zen I sometimes get when drunk. After he came down, he helped me jump down, and we walked along the somewhat uncomfortably warm tunnel.
My greatest fear was a rat running along my foot, as I mentioned as I followed him along the tunnel. They were too narrow for us to walk side-by-side, so I followed him while remaining close to his backpack for safety's sake. It was just a long path that eventually led to what I recognized to be the basement of one of our campus buildings. I led us upstairs and then we took the back door out. He seemed a little disappointed that we had only gotten to a building he knew.
As we exited, we jumped down from a little ledge and I hesitated a little, mostly because of the flip-flops. Without much of a pause, he just reached back and lifted me, setting me down as though I weighed nothing. While none of the other random lifting up and down from ladders had been particularly noteworthy (but nice), this somehow made my heart skip a beat a little.
After this, we did finally end up walking back to my friend's place since it was 5 a.m. at this point. She had left the back entrance open but I had no clue how to find it so we walked to the front and I had to call her boyfriend to wake him to let us in as we sat on the stairs outside her place half-asleep. I offered to let him stay and he half-asked where and I mentioned my friend had two couches. I changed and we passed out almost immediately - on separate couches. I kind of wanted him on my couch but didn't know how to ask without making it perfectly obvious that I was into him so I didn't.
At the back of my mind the whole night was the thought that it would be the perfect moment for him to make a move, yet a part of me didn't expect it at all. There was still a possibility that the holding hands thing was friendly and had nothing to do with attraction on his part, since it could be merely rude to just let go.
I kept thinking that it would be the perfect minute for him to make a move and he didn't. I mean he did stuff like lifting me up and down from ladders then we walked back to my friend's place where I was staying and he crashed for the night but on a separate couch. and I kind of wanted him to be on the same couch but I didn't know how to ask so I didn't.
The next day, he woke and left for work relatively early (but I was up before him for some reason texting my friends about my night). I spent most of the day just relaxing since friends were at work - couldn't really nap for one reason or another - and he came over again that night around 11:30 p.m. since I invited him to another party my friends were having.
This time it was for one of my friends who was transferring schools (a shock for many of us), and by the time he got there my friends were rather spectacularly drunk. I went downstairs to meet him mildly buzzed and we went upstairs where we sat and drank for a while. I hovered near him while conducting various conversations with friends and making sure to talk to him and get him drinks once in a while.
Rather soon, my friends decided to get to the roof of the building so we all clambered up ladders onto the roof with no railings and my friends worried me by going close to the edge. I sat somewhat leaning on his knees, clearly in his space, while I went around at intervals preventing friends from drinking too much and going too close to the edge of the roof.
Again, it was a little awkward since I had conversations with friends who all knew each other and I didn't do a very good job of including him. After the roof (which he left a little early to use the bathroom), we began all heading over to the lake (but another part) on the drunken impulses of friends. On the way over, my hand somehow slipped into his as we walked behind almost all my friends and he conversed with one of them. I recognized this as a somewhat encouraging sign and enjoyed it.
At the lake, friends scattered on the grass and the rocks leading up to it. I collapsed into a pile of friends and we fell asleep on the grass with one friend with his head on my stomach and another with her head on his stomach. My head was on F's chest/ arm, and we woke nearly 20 minutes later as some friends roused us to leave. On the way home, my drunken male friends formed a circle and began singing 'Titanium' incredibly loudly while I worried about noise levels. Fortunately, he was on hand to exhort me not to worry about it and somehow I decided to stop mothering my friends and just kept walking with my hand in his and left. The next day, I found grass stains on my orange shorts and he found that his keys were gone. Still, it was a pretty successful night.
Once we got back, I followed my friend's suggestion (this was brilliant) and as he was about to pass out on the other couch I told him that the friend I was staying with and her boyfriend had had sex on that couch. This was plausible actually but totally false, and somehow drunken me came up with an elaborate lie about how I had just found out about it and it was when the two of them had built a fort (good lies always mix truth in).
He asked "What should I do then?", and I told him it was fine if he slept on the other couch where I was sleeping. I then felt creepy for tricking him into the same bed, and decided to not make any kind of move despite my incredible affinity for cuddling, so we just went to sleep.
Next thing I knew, I was waking up in the middle of the night to find myself wrapped around him (subconscious me, damn you) and decided it was warm and nice so to just let it be. However, the conscience kicked in a few seconds later and I decided to move away. Fortunately, he cuddled me from behind once I did this and I fell asleep happy and spooning.
We got to bed slightly earlier this night - around 3 or 4 a.m., but he had to wake up around 6 a.m. for work unfortunately. He kept snoozing his alarm and returning to bed and cuddling me again, as I grew more worried about him missing his last day of work. I was very happy about the cuddling but I knew by now that he had a tendency to be late and I didn't want to be the reason he missed work. This emerged as me saying, "Don't you have to go?" He responded with a "Yeah" and left shortly after...
And he still hadn't made a move. Of any sort. I was not particularly hopeful.
On Friday (the same day), he came over in the evening and we watched Requiem for a Dream, which I had mentioned that I had wanted to see and he had mentioned in the previous days that he had gotten from the library. It was a very good movie, but I was a little conscious about watching it next to him, and kept moving around a little during the movie and wondering whether to lean on him (doing so partly). I pretended to fall asleep on his shoulder with about 10 minutes to go. I was tired since we had both gotten 5 hours of sleep in two days, and I was sitting next to him while partly leaning on his shoulder and sitting/ half-lying on the couch with part of our feet dangling off the end.
I'm not sure at what point he noticed I was asleep, but he sat there for a while even after the movie ended. A few minutes later, he got up to put the movie disk and computer away and I merely readjusted to curl on the couch. He was fiddling with his backpack for a while and I was afraid he was going to leave so I 'woke up' with a start and gazed at him. He came back and lay next to me as we had been during the movie, but I moved away in order to lie so that I was lengthwise on the couch instead of my feet dangling off. I was afraid he would take this as a sign that I didn't want to lie next to him, but I was glad when he readjusted so that he was lying next to me again.
At this point, we had the most chill conversation that is incredibly hard to describe. For the first time I wasn't worried at all about whether he was interested or not. Instead I just lay on my side with my nose kind of nuzzled in his hair, facing him on his back. I played with his hair idly, draped across him a little bit. This conversation would probably be how I define young love, clichéd as that sounds - we didn't discuss anything particularly deep or open our hearts - it was just incredibly relaxed and comfortable. We weren't talking the whole time - he drifted in and out of sleep a little, but I was uncharacteristically okay with the silences.
At some point an hour after the time he had said he had to go, he said that he needed to leave. I used my arm to prevent him from getting up and asked for five more minutes (also incredibly uncharacteristic). A minute or two later, I felt selfish and said he could go if he needed to, but he said the five minutes weren't over yet and continued lying there (to my delight). Definitely over five minutes later, I felt bold enough to kiss his ear and tell him he could go. He got up, having promised his brother he would be at some sort of religious study, but returned after (late, as usual) as promised for yet another party I had coerced my friends into hosting.
By this point, I was really wondering why he hadn't made a move. I was in a state of zen after this conversation, but I wondered if he didn't like me. I felt as though I had made every move - holding his hand, cuddling him etc. - and although he seemed to be reciprocating, I was very worried I was just pushing my feelings onto him.
There were no moves left for me to make except kissing him, and since it was my first kiss and I felt pushy already, this seemed like too big a step. I considered telling him I liked him (encouraged heavily by my friends, one of whom was nice enough to spend considerable time convincing me at least telling him was mature and a good idea and that I was 'not 13 years old'). It still seemed like a big step and something I had never done before. If I had even come close to doing this with X, we could have avoided years of pointlessness.
At the party - more relaxed and smaller-scale than the others and both of us were exhausted anyway - we drank mostly whiskey and he got to know my friends better. Beer pong was played, and he sat next to me with his arm on the couch behind me (as I was told). He went to the bathroom at one point (recurring theme), and one of my friends from high school called me and was upset and crying about relationship drama. I walked past all my friends in order to take the call behind the house, which somehow none of my friends noticed.
They began calling and texting me as I was on the phone with this friend, probably having noticed that I had vanished. I had an inkling as to what this might be about, but decided to let them worry for a little and focus on my friend. He happened to be the one to come out behind the house and find me (a stroke of fate I really appreciated) and I was almost done with the call by then.
I felt a little flat and exhausted and out of it after the emotionally draining call, so he was nice enough to get my bag after I told him that I wanted to leave. Once he did, I realized I should probably say goodbye to my friends and went inside to reassure them I was okay while he waited behind for me.
On the short walk home, we were holding hands again. The alcohol and tiredness and convincing from friends somehow combined in order to build courage within me. I stopped, faced him, and said, "I really like you, why won't you make a move??" (only slightly paraphrased). I continued, "I've made all the moves and I mean it's fine if you don't like me but [continue word vomit]".
Him (laughing slightly): "Of course I like you (actually not too sure if he actually said this), but there's a lot of reasons."
Me, tactful as ever: "What reasons?"
Him: "Well, whenever I've dated really close friends in the past, it hasn't really worked out and ruined the friendship. And"
Me: "You're also leaving."
Him: "Yeah, I mean I don't want to start something right before I go, and distance is hard."
Me (taken aback): "I don't want distance, I just want you to make a move!" (Trying to convey that I didn't want a long-distance relationship with someone I'd barely been in the same city as, but I liked him and wanted to enjoy our time together). "We can still be friends after."
Him: "Oh, okay."
At some point during this conversation we had transitioned to standing with my hands around his neck with his around my waist, which I periodically used to support my weight and enjoy the sensation of leaning back. We continued to talk, as for some reason I went over all the thoughts I'd had in the last couple of days about his actions (including the lie about the couch and the lake having been the perfect moment for a kiss) and he laughingly attempted to defend himself.
To be fair, once we had talked I could understand why he hadn't made a move or brought it up, since he obviously assumed I wanted a relationship. It made sense to not want to get into long distance - this is also what I wanted. He couldn't assume that as his friend I just wanted to hook up, so it was a good thing I brought it up since he is too nice to just make a move he wouldn't be able to follow through on without knowing what I wanted.
I realized we couldn't actually go 'home' because my friend and her boyfriend were occupying the place, and since I had instructed them to take their time in order to give us time (and didn't even let him know immediately once they were done), we decided to go for a bike ride.
Accordingly, we stopped briefly at my friend's place (running into two other friends on the way who had apparently been trying very hard to avoid us and were a little awkward) where the party had been (with some drunken boys throwing a bottle near him on the way) while I used the bathroom and he got his bike. The first thing I apparently said when my friend opened the door was "He said he likes me!" in a beatific tone. I quickly took a courage shot and updated this friend, who had been the one to encourage my telling him. Unfortunately once he got there I also told him to leave for a minute before me so that I could "talk to my friend about you". Questionable decisions...
During the course of the night, I also confessed that I thought he was both cute and hot, my anxieties about him not making a move and making all of them, and that he was the first guy I had told my feelings to (this in a tone of shock). I also said something on the bike about how we weren't having sex. Apparently honesty and alcohol are a dangerous combination...I still cringe a little.
Once we left, I discovered his bike was the kind that you need to stand on the back of. This was something I'd never done before, and my general sense of balance and drunkenness didn't help raise my confidence in this endeavour. However, I didn't say anything and got on, and it was surprisingly easy. After some debate about where to put my arms so I didn't choke him, I slipped them under his arms and up around them so that I was like a human backpack.
We rode fast through the deserted streets (in the back of my mind was the concern about a car appearing but no such thing happened) and I mentioned my slight worry about the speed. I feel like he went a little bit faster because he could tell I would tense up as he did and cuddle closer towards him, since he jokingly remarked on it. I was legitimately mildly worried about the steep slope near our library, and buried my face in the back of his neck as we went down. We reached our destination without incident, which turned out to be the lake.
I hadn't really thought about where we were going, but was fine with the lake once more and didn't think too much of it. This time I actually took off my jeans and shirt so I was in my underwear (basically a swimsuit), commenting on how my underwear had been cuter the last time around. I also made some sort of comment about how this would ruin my hair, which I had conditioned especially because I knew it would be in his face when we slept, which he seemed to amusedly appreciate.
The lake was a little colder this time, and I ended up somehow sitting in his lap facing him (slightly scandalous since both of us were in our underwear) as we cuddled and talked. I knew very clearly suddenly that he was going to kiss me and was immediately very afraid about being terrible at it - for inattentive non-existent readers, this was my first kiss.
So I indirectly staved it off, not awkwardly by moving my face away, but through sensing the mood and burying my face in his neck or kissing his nose instead and generally avoiding it.
Then he put his hands on his face and kissed me. It was kind of smooth, given my jokes about how he hadn't made the perfect first move in the lake (somehow I failed to predict this until right before he was about to kiss me). Unfortunately I was really freaking out about being a terrible kisser and having no idea of what I was doing, so I froze up a little and noticed the unfamiliar sensation of someone's lips moving against mine.
The moment was perfect and the kiss certainly wasn't disappointing, just a mix of terror and unfamiliarity. For days, I couldn't think about it without being embarrassed (he commented later while I was teasing him about making moves that I hadn't actually responded much at all, which I remarked was because I was terrified because "it was you!"). I pulled away relatively quickly and he was freezing so we got out of the lake.
Naturally, on my way out, I slipped on a mossy rock and fell with an audible thud onto my bum. I sat there and began laughing hysterically at this, since physical comedy always amuses me, but he was very concerned about my well-being. There weren't any scratches but I was a little bruised and sore the next day and he felt bad and I got some backrubs out of it. I didn't mind at all - it was my fault and I thought it was hilarious, but he blamed himself a little.
Once we were home, we just went to bed very quickly and fell asleep cuddling. He had to nudge me towards the bathroom to get me to change and not pass out in my wet clothes, which I then did. We definitely got sand from the lake all over my friend's bathroom - I felt pretty bad about this the next day but she said she didn't mind.
The next morning we were finally able to sleep in more, and cuddled most of the morning. I enjoyed this greatly. I woke up a little bit before him as usual - I couldn't sleep as much around him - and was basically texting/ IMing my friends about the night as I lay in his arms with his nose against my ear. I checked carefully to make sure he was actually asleep though.
I woke him around 11, as my friends were lazily making their way towards brunch. I asked him if he wanted to go to brunch, informing him on his affirmative response that all my friends would be there (his taste in women is inexplicable). He was a little embarrassed but still fine with it, though he insisted on going home to change before.
He joined us there a little later - it was a large group and things were boisterous but very enjoyable. My friends were their usual inappropriate selves (competing to drink more coffee, discussing various bodily functions), and a fun time appeared to have been had by all. I wrapped my legs around his under the table as we shared a veggie omelette and hash browns that I ate very little of despite having been hungry earlier.
After brunch, we all stood outside while I asked him a little awkwardly on the side what he wanted to do. He let me know that he had to go but (maybe) muttered something that sounded like a reassurance that he cared about me, which he refused to repeat and I didn't really hear. He helped a friend pack during the day, and they eventually slowed down and watched TV. I resented this a little since I wanted him to spend as much time with me as possible, but it wasn't too big a deal since I watched a movie with friends and we slacklined in a park and ordered Indian food and wandered around the town.
That day (Saturday), he came over before the party in the evening. This level of partying was abnormal for all of us, but it was the only weekend in my summer I got to be with friends so I made them throw parties and some occasions also fell during this period. We just lay there cuddling as it grew dark outside, and I wanted nothing more than to just stay there and fall asleep. He encouraged me to do so, but I was determined in my motivation to see some friends I hadn't really seen.
Everyone was pretty exhausted, and the party was even more low-key. It was a little awkward also because G (remember him?) was there. It's not like the two of us ever really dated or were even interested in each other, but it was a little awkward because he knew F and we had mutual friends, none of whom I wanted knowing about this given that it was a short fling. So I tried to keep it subtle around G.
We spent a lot of time just talking in the kitchen by ourselves during the party, although we did join the larger group for some games in the living room. We sat on the couch with my hand slipped in his in between us in a subtle manner, and he seemed to be having fun talking to my friends. My friend asked me an odd question during a game about "Top or bottom?" and I said "Top" but managed to clarify with a comeback that this was because it was a "stupid question and I'd said the first thing that came to mind". Studiously didn't look at him at this point.
I wasn't really feeling engaged in the party, and I felt bad making him leave since he seemed to be enjoying himself, but we ended up heading out pretty early. Once again, though, we were waiting for my friend and her boyfriend to get back (and they had been instructed to take their time) so we just walked around the town talking and with his arm around my shoulder (I put it there) or in mine. We also stopped a few times to stand with my arms around his neck or with his arms around me from behind.
We were walking in slightly removed parts of my town that I hadn't really been to before, and it was actually pretty great. We stopped by a children's park to stand and talk on the play bridge, to grab some kind of fruit from a tree (this was all him; one of them was bad) near a house, and just generally around town. At some point he thought he saw his older brother in a car passing by and immediately dropped my hand and moved forward to check it out (which didn't really bother me at the time but is a little prick of hurt now).
Honestly, in telling this story I feel as though words are slightly insufficient because they sound clichéd and incomplete and so incapable of encompassing the moments and emotions behind them. I hope your mind will be able to fill that in.
The part of our conversation I do remember (most of it was me spilling my thoughts about him to him) was that I told him most of my friends knew about the events between us. I believe it was in response to something he said about how he never discusses this kind of thing with his friends. I responded with surprise, and revealed many of my friends knew. He asked whom, and I listed about ten of my closest friends, to his mild consternation. I obviously then checked if that was okay, and told him that I obviously kept some details to myself, but he said he was fine with it.
Eventually we went back and kissed a little bit in the dark on the bed (initiated by him), and this time I was more enthusiastic and appreciated it more, but we passed out quickly. We cuddled all night (fun game: count how many times the word cuddled was used in this post).
We woke up around 8:50 a.m. when my friend and her boyfriend were heading out for the day and were saying goodbye. Fun fact: the first time my friend had walked in the previous day while we were cuddling, he had quickly jumped away, but by this point he was probably accustomed to my friends and didn't even move from where we lay spooning as my friends walked by.
It was only when my friend said goodbye to me (I knew I wouldn't see him for six months) that I jumped up to hug him, after which they left and we returned to being wrapped around each other. He had said he needed to leave at 10 (while I had to leave for the airport at 12), and it was about 8:50 a.m. at this point.
I felt like we should do something instead of just sleeping the morning away, and said as much. Of course his response was just "whatever you want". At first I had some vague desire to go get food or something, but then I realized I was perfectly happy to lie there and casually talk and cuddle.
He made a move at some point and we essentially made out off and on for about two and a half hours (he ended up actually leaving around 11:30 a.m.). This time I was a lot less worried about being terrible at it because I was getting more practice and was a little more prepared, and it just felt good. I finally understood why people do it all the time.
I did forget at the start to stop breathing/ taking breaks to breathe naturally and got a little bit lightheaded (amateur) and had to stop for a brief pause, where I began laughing and said something about how he was making it hard to breathe (then paused and was like "Did I really just say that?" as he laughed). I also said something in one of the pauses about how I heard [the city where I was for the summer] was a really nice place to visit. He just said 'hm' or some such thing, and a few minutes later I corrected this by saying that it was actually not a very nice city (he was like yes I heard there isn't much to see there) but that the city where my parents live is actually very nice. This was strategic since this was where he was going to study abroad, and he said some sort of yes. After which I reiterated that there was no pressure to do this, and he laughed and we resumed.
Another little moment I remember is when I was somehow on top of him (I think I was trying to get to the other side of the couch) while making out. I was resting most of my weight on my arm by his side and complained a little about my arm hurting. It took him a second or so to process this, but when he did he just swung me over him so that we switched and he was on top. This I especially enjoyed because I love when he takes the lead and moves me around a little like I weigh nothing.
We didn't do much beyond kissing - his hands were in my shirt but just on my back and most places that weren't my chest. My hands were mostly wrapped around his neck or in his hair, though a couple of times I placed them a little awkwardly on his back. I wouldn't have minded if he went further but I didn't quite know how to ask beyond pressing myself against him (which I did). I think I told my friends we got to second base. He did do a lot of stuff that made me feel like he cared, like making the first move, and kissing other parts of my face in between and cuddling me and playing with my hair. All of which I greatly appreciated.
I still cringe when I realize that I hadn't brushed my teeth at this point even though I got up to use the bathroom. It wasn't an issue on his part since he got up at some point to freshen up, but I was just tired and disinclined to move. I later discovered that this was because I was literally just about to get my period, but it's still not the best thing.
When he finally had to leave, I got up to say goodbye and he kissed me goodbye - I realized this was the first time we'd kissed standing up. I was sad to see him go, since I wouldn't see him again before he left for the year. We didn't really comment on it much, just kissing before he left.
After he left, I realized I'd gotten my period (fortunately I expected it a little), and just wandered around in a haze of pain and sadness, packing. A few of my friends came over and brought me soup as I updated them, which I appreciated and made me less sad and flat-feeling. Then I left around 12:40, uncaring about missing my flight - though I didn't.
That was it. We continued texting while we were able - for the next three weeks until the end of my summer, and there was a little awkwardness when I thought he didn't want to talk any more (I was reading too much into things as usual) but it was generally enjoyable and I was still clearly into him. We had established clearly that we were still going to be friends, which helped. I wasn't too sad, but there was a week or so of dejection with little to distract me as I thought of the summer that might have been.
As I may have mentioned, I spent the summer in a different place. However, I did get to visit from one Wednesday night-Sunday afternoon. He met me at the airport because I asked him to since my mum wanted someone to meet me if I was taking a night flight, and I decided to be brave and ask him to be this person. He was a little bit late (as ever) but I didn't mind. When he got there, I was sitting at the coffee shop and we just hugged - after a little wave from him and a "Really? You aren't going to hug me?" from me. The first thing he noticed was the height of my heels (that couldn't fit in the suitcase I had stuffed with things I planned to leave there).
In the taxi home, we talked about the usual things - books, people, lives, stories - and I sat in the centre of the back seat with him to my left, acutely aware of his presence and feeling a bit of wild nervous energy slightly in the distance of my mind. I was staying at a friend's place and some friends had gathered there to welcome me, so he just joined us there after he helped me carry my stuff up.
That was something I appreciated - since all my friends have known each other well for quite a few years and can sometimes be a little insular and it's hard to hang out with a group of people that all have known each other for a while and meet all of them at once. Additionally, they all (of course) knew who he was and kept trying to give us time to talk meaning they didn't make as much effort to talk to him.
So we were all drinking and he was somewhat quiet and we sat on a couch a little bit to the side and I tried to include him in conversation and give him some time to interact on his own. I got pretty tipsy after not feeling it for a while, and the night passed pretty quickly. When people were heading out, I decided for some reason (probably because I wanted to spend more time with him) that I wanted to walk him home because he was the only person that lived a 15-minute walk away and I felt bad about him walking back alone.
It was probably around 2 a.m. at this point, and my friends were pretty concerned as they didn't know him particularly well and weren't sure whether he would actually allow me to walk back drunk by myself after dropping him off. However, I am no less stubborn when drunk and insisted on leaving with him and two other friends (both of whom immediately and impressively disappeared once we went down the stairs, aided somewhat intentionally by my going to look for them on the wrong side of the back road). I was at least wearing flats (flip-flops to be precise) at this point.
We walked over to his place in the balmy summer weather, with tipsy me partly using the liquid courage in order to hold on to his arm and lean on him. At some point, my hand slipped into his and my heart did a frantic dance ('WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!!') but I had no reaction on the surface. We continued walking, his grip getting tighter as we passed through deserted back streets that I knew but he was unfamiliar with.
I acceded to his request and we moved to the equally deserted but more central road. We were still holding hands and I was enjoying our leisurely stroll very much. I can't remember if we were even talking, but I remember him stopping me to tell me that there was someone following us whose shirt had changed colour from black to white.
I was pretty confused and sure he was drunk, but upon turning around discovered that he wasn't completely inaccurate - there was indeed someone in white that appeared to be following us. Weirdly, I don't remember being scared at all. Maybe I felt safe with him. I think he wanted to try and turn around and confront the person, but (remembering every lesson from every horror movie ever) I yanked his hand pretty firmly to prevent him from going back. Instead, I pulled him forward and we continued at a slightly more rapid pace.
A few minutes later, I turned around again, and this time thought that I recognized my friend. This was one of the friends that had left to 'walk' with us, and I assumed he was following to make sure I was safe. I didn't mention this to F because I wasn't particularly sure and preferred to leave the element of suspense a little bit. I did shoot off a text to the friend, and grew increasingly more sure as we kept walking (though I didn't receive an affirmative reply until morning).
I did continue to turn around periodically during the rest of our walk, both to check whether the person was still there and try to recognize them, and to make him see that I was potentially worried about this. These times he kept tugging on my hand to keep me walking.
Once we got to his place, I said something to the effect of "Well, bye!" but he refused to let me walk home alone. I argued this with him for a while, and he agreed that I was perfectly capable but still wouldn't let me walk home alone. To be honest, I have no idea why I was having this argument - if he had actually let me walk home alone I would have been both disappointed and hurt. And the town really is very deserted at night, especially over the summer. I remember uttering something to the effect of "What was the point of walking all this way if you weren't going to let me walk home alone?" (my friends had a lot of responses to this question later).
So we walked back towards where I was staying, albeit using a slightly different route, still hand in hand. This way took us past more of campus, and I remarked on how beautiful and quiet it was during the summer, and we somehow hit upon the idea of going to visit the lake near our campus. I think I remember him tugging me in that direction, but it was a pretty mutual decision.
I remember stopping at some point to turn around and look and see if we were still being followed (we were not after leaving his place), partly because I wanted to stop and see if he would come back for me. He did somewhat, or at least called me forward and I shook aside my foolishness.
When we got to the lake, I left my blazer and phone and shoes next to the pile with his backpack before we climbed over the fence to get to the rocks near the lake. I assumed we were just going to sit on the rocks and talk for a while, and was definitely taken aback when he started pulling off clothes.
He then jumped into the lake with only his underwear on and I was incredibly confused and somehow felt pressed for time and a little unsure and ended up jumping into the lake with my dress on. It was a light cotton tank dress so it wasn't the worst situation, but it was still not the best idea. And I was even wearing cute underwear...not sure what the confusion was about. Probably alcohol.
The lake was cool but not too cold. Before I jumped I was a little worried that this would be one of those stories where drunk people made poor decisions and bad things happened, but the lake was shallow for a long way so we were basically just sitting in the water. We paddled around (he went a lot closer to the shore, we jumped in on the side, somewhere near the middle) not particularly near each other, and I enjoyed relaxing in the water doing my own thing and paddling around. I paddled out to see if it got deeper, and felt the water get distinctly colder and sensed it was about to get deeper and stopped there. Mostly I just enjoyed paddling and floating around as he did his own thing.
Definitely distinctly thought that this would be the perfect moment for him to kiss me in the lake with the moonlight and signs looked promising, and yet it felt like a distant thought and not too real. And he didn't, but I wasn't really disappointed. We chatted a little also. A while later, he got cold, but I was happy paddling around and didn't want it to end, so he had to ask a couple of times before I was ready to go.
When we climbed out, my dress was completely soaked, and I was rather chilly. I sat on the fence we had climbed over for a little bit and he stood in front of me as we waited for our clothes/ selves to dry a little bit. He was shirtless and cold and I remember I hugged him for a while in an attempt to keep warm as he stood facing me and I leaned my head on his shoulder.
It was chilly and I didn't want to ruin my nice work blazer with my wet dress, so I convinced him to give me the striped blue button down he was wearing over his white v-neck, then wore that as a jacket over my dress, despite feeling guilty about his chilliness.
He needed to use the bathroom, so we headed towards the nearby student centre, which was obviously closed. Upon finding an open door in the basement, we snuck in, and decided to go upstairs to some student offices on the third floor that he had access to, after he went to the loo. Unfortunately, the door to access these areas was locked (as it often is at night, especially over the summer). We moved to the service elevator, which would get us inside, but got distracted upon discovering that there was a fourth floor hitherto unknown.
With a vague aim of getting the the roof, we went to the fourth floor, which was mostly dark and used for storage/ pipes. The drunkenness did not help us locate the roof, though I did climb a ladder somewhat reluctantly (in front of him, so he could catch me in case of trouble; complaining about my anxiety with heights) only to find that whatever trapdoor it led to was locked. We didn't get much more of a chance to explore/ were leaving when he warned me in a whisper about a guard and began running.
The guard, who might have been upstairs to check out mysterious figures on the security camera, missed him but made eye contact with me, at which point I began running too. Somehow we found the stairs and sprinted downstairs, only to find locked doors. We ran to a different route (at this point my flip-flops were out and in my hand) and finally made it out of the front door without incident. I have no idea if the guard in the safety vest was even following us, but I didn't want to get caught and find out. I did have a plan to tell him I went to another university if caught, which worked since I had no id on me.
After we ran down the slope outside our student centre, I slipped my shoes back on and we switched to more of a walk, holding hands again. I think at some point he slipped away for the bathroom again, while I leaned on the bridge and watched the lake and thought about not very much at all (apart from the fleeting thought about him washing his hands).
Still, we kept walking in the direction of where I was staying. On the way though, we passed by the entrance of one of the underground tunnels on campus, which both of us had wanted to explore (or at least I had, now that I think he might have been there before). I guess neither of us was quite ready for the night to end, because we ended up climbing down to them.
I went first and commented on how he was always making me go first (especially since this was into a dark pit), to which his counter was that I wouldn't be able to lift the entrance covering back in place. On my way down, I felt reluctant about jumping down from the bottom of the ladder to the dark floor, so I squatted on a large pipe running along the wall with the same sense of zen I sometimes get when drunk. After he came down, he helped me jump down, and we walked along the somewhat uncomfortably warm tunnel.
My greatest fear was a rat running along my foot, as I mentioned as I followed him along the tunnel. They were too narrow for us to walk side-by-side, so I followed him while remaining close to his backpack for safety's sake. It was just a long path that eventually led to what I recognized to be the basement of one of our campus buildings. I led us upstairs and then we took the back door out. He seemed a little disappointed that we had only gotten to a building he knew.
As we exited, we jumped down from a little ledge and I hesitated a little, mostly because of the flip-flops. Without much of a pause, he just reached back and lifted me, setting me down as though I weighed nothing. While none of the other random lifting up and down from ladders had been particularly noteworthy (but nice), this somehow made my heart skip a beat a little.
After this, we did finally end up walking back to my friend's place since it was 5 a.m. at this point. She had left the back entrance open but I had no clue how to find it so we walked to the front and I had to call her boyfriend to wake him to let us in as we sat on the stairs outside her place half-asleep. I offered to let him stay and he half-asked where and I mentioned my friend had two couches. I changed and we passed out almost immediately - on separate couches. I kind of wanted him on my couch but didn't know how to ask without making it perfectly obvious that I was into him so I didn't.
At the back of my mind the whole night was the thought that it would be the perfect moment for him to make a move, yet a part of me didn't expect it at all. There was still a possibility that the holding hands thing was friendly and had nothing to do with attraction on his part, since it could be merely rude to just let go.
I kept thinking that it would be the perfect minute for him to make a move and he didn't. I mean he did stuff like lifting me up and down from ladders then we walked back to my friend's place where I was staying and he crashed for the night but on a separate couch. and I kind of wanted him to be on the same couch but I didn't know how to ask so I didn't.
The next day, he woke and left for work relatively early (but I was up before him for some reason texting my friends about my night). I spent most of the day just relaxing since friends were at work - couldn't really nap for one reason or another - and he came over again that night around 11:30 p.m. since I invited him to another party my friends were having.
This time it was for one of my friends who was transferring schools (a shock for many of us), and by the time he got there my friends were rather spectacularly drunk. I went downstairs to meet him mildly buzzed and we went upstairs where we sat and drank for a while. I hovered near him while conducting various conversations with friends and making sure to talk to him and get him drinks once in a while.
Rather soon, my friends decided to get to the roof of the building so we all clambered up ladders onto the roof with no railings and my friends worried me by going close to the edge. I sat somewhat leaning on his knees, clearly in his space, while I went around at intervals preventing friends from drinking too much and going too close to the edge of the roof.
Again, it was a little awkward since I had conversations with friends who all knew each other and I didn't do a very good job of including him. After the roof (which he left a little early to use the bathroom), we began all heading over to the lake (but another part) on the drunken impulses of friends. On the way over, my hand somehow slipped into his as we walked behind almost all my friends and he conversed with one of them. I recognized this as a somewhat encouraging sign and enjoyed it.
At the lake, friends scattered on the grass and the rocks leading up to it. I collapsed into a pile of friends and we fell asleep on the grass with one friend with his head on my stomach and another with her head on his stomach. My head was on F's chest/ arm, and we woke nearly 20 minutes later as some friends roused us to leave. On the way home, my drunken male friends formed a circle and began singing 'Titanium' incredibly loudly while I worried about noise levels. Fortunately, he was on hand to exhort me not to worry about it and somehow I decided to stop mothering my friends and just kept walking with my hand in his and left. The next day, I found grass stains on my orange shorts and he found that his keys were gone. Still, it was a pretty successful night.
Once we got back, I followed my friend's suggestion (this was brilliant) and as he was about to pass out on the other couch I told him that the friend I was staying with and her boyfriend had had sex on that couch. This was plausible actually but totally false, and somehow drunken me came up with an elaborate lie about how I had just found out about it and it was when the two of them had built a fort (good lies always mix truth in).
He asked "What should I do then?", and I told him it was fine if he slept on the other couch where I was sleeping. I then felt creepy for tricking him into the same bed, and decided to not make any kind of move despite my incredible affinity for cuddling, so we just went to sleep.
Next thing I knew, I was waking up in the middle of the night to find myself wrapped around him (subconscious me, damn you) and decided it was warm and nice so to just let it be. However, the conscience kicked in a few seconds later and I decided to move away. Fortunately, he cuddled me from behind once I did this and I fell asleep happy and spooning.
We got to bed slightly earlier this night - around 3 or 4 a.m., but he had to wake up around 6 a.m. for work unfortunately. He kept snoozing his alarm and returning to bed and cuddling me again, as I grew more worried about him missing his last day of work. I was very happy about the cuddling but I knew by now that he had a tendency to be late and I didn't want to be the reason he missed work. This emerged as me saying, "Don't you have to go?" He responded with a "Yeah" and left shortly after...
And he still hadn't made a move. Of any sort. I was not particularly hopeful.
On Friday (the same day), he came over in the evening and we watched Requiem for a Dream, which I had mentioned that I had wanted to see and he had mentioned in the previous days that he had gotten from the library. It was a very good movie, but I was a little conscious about watching it next to him, and kept moving around a little during the movie and wondering whether to lean on him (doing so partly). I pretended to fall asleep on his shoulder with about 10 minutes to go. I was tired since we had both gotten 5 hours of sleep in two days, and I was sitting next to him while partly leaning on his shoulder and sitting/ half-lying on the couch with part of our feet dangling off the end.
I'm not sure at what point he noticed I was asleep, but he sat there for a while even after the movie ended. A few minutes later, he got up to put the movie disk and computer away and I merely readjusted to curl on the couch. He was fiddling with his backpack for a while and I was afraid he was going to leave so I 'woke up' with a start and gazed at him. He came back and lay next to me as we had been during the movie, but I moved away in order to lie so that I was lengthwise on the couch instead of my feet dangling off. I was afraid he would take this as a sign that I didn't want to lie next to him, but I was glad when he readjusted so that he was lying next to me again.
At this point, we had the most chill conversation that is incredibly hard to describe. For the first time I wasn't worried at all about whether he was interested or not. Instead I just lay on my side with my nose kind of nuzzled in his hair, facing him on his back. I played with his hair idly, draped across him a little bit. This conversation would probably be how I define young love, clichéd as that sounds - we didn't discuss anything particularly deep or open our hearts - it was just incredibly relaxed and comfortable. We weren't talking the whole time - he drifted in and out of sleep a little, but I was uncharacteristically okay with the silences.
At some point an hour after the time he had said he had to go, he said that he needed to leave. I used my arm to prevent him from getting up and asked for five more minutes (also incredibly uncharacteristic). A minute or two later, I felt selfish and said he could go if he needed to, but he said the five minutes weren't over yet and continued lying there (to my delight). Definitely over five minutes later, I felt bold enough to kiss his ear and tell him he could go. He got up, having promised his brother he would be at some sort of religious study, but returned after (late, as usual) as promised for yet another party I had coerced my friends into hosting.
By this point, I was really wondering why he hadn't made a move. I was in a state of zen after this conversation, but I wondered if he didn't like me. I felt as though I had made every move - holding his hand, cuddling him etc. - and although he seemed to be reciprocating, I was very worried I was just pushing my feelings onto him.
There were no moves left for me to make except kissing him, and since it was my first kiss and I felt pushy already, this seemed like too big a step. I considered telling him I liked him (encouraged heavily by my friends, one of whom was nice enough to spend considerable time convincing me at least telling him was mature and a good idea and that I was 'not 13 years old'). It still seemed like a big step and something I had never done before. If I had even come close to doing this with X, we could have avoided years of pointlessness.
At the party - more relaxed and smaller-scale than the others and both of us were exhausted anyway - we drank mostly whiskey and he got to know my friends better. Beer pong was played, and he sat next to me with his arm on the couch behind me (as I was told). He went to the bathroom at one point (recurring theme), and one of my friends from high school called me and was upset and crying about relationship drama. I walked past all my friends in order to take the call behind the house, which somehow none of my friends noticed.
They began calling and texting me as I was on the phone with this friend, probably having noticed that I had vanished. I had an inkling as to what this might be about, but decided to let them worry for a little and focus on my friend. He happened to be the one to come out behind the house and find me (a stroke of fate I really appreciated) and I was almost done with the call by then.
I felt a little flat and exhausted and out of it after the emotionally draining call, so he was nice enough to get my bag after I told him that I wanted to leave. Once he did, I realized I should probably say goodbye to my friends and went inside to reassure them I was okay while he waited behind for me.
On the short walk home, we were holding hands again. The alcohol and tiredness and convincing from friends somehow combined in order to build courage within me. I stopped, faced him, and said, "I really like you, why won't you make a move??" (only slightly paraphrased). I continued, "I've made all the moves and I mean it's fine if you don't like me but [continue word vomit]".
Him (laughing slightly): "Of course I like you (actually not too sure if he actually said this), but there's a lot of reasons."
Me, tactful as ever: "What reasons?"
Him: "Well, whenever I've dated really close friends in the past, it hasn't really worked out and ruined the friendship. And"
Me: "You're also leaving."
Him: "Yeah, I mean I don't want to start something right before I go, and distance is hard."
Me (taken aback): "I don't want distance, I just want you to make a move!" (Trying to convey that I didn't want a long-distance relationship with someone I'd barely been in the same city as, but I liked him and wanted to enjoy our time together). "We can still be friends after."
Him: "Oh, okay."
At some point during this conversation we had transitioned to standing with my hands around his neck with his around my waist, which I periodically used to support my weight and enjoy the sensation of leaning back. We continued to talk, as for some reason I went over all the thoughts I'd had in the last couple of days about his actions (including the lie about the couch and the lake having been the perfect moment for a kiss) and he laughingly attempted to defend himself.
To be fair, once we had talked I could understand why he hadn't made a move or brought it up, since he obviously assumed I wanted a relationship. It made sense to not want to get into long distance - this is also what I wanted. He couldn't assume that as his friend I just wanted to hook up, so it was a good thing I brought it up since he is too nice to just make a move he wouldn't be able to follow through on without knowing what I wanted.
I realized we couldn't actually go 'home' because my friend and her boyfriend were occupying the place, and since I had instructed them to take their time in order to give us time (and didn't even let him know immediately once they were done), we decided to go for a bike ride.
Accordingly, we stopped briefly at my friend's place (running into two other friends on the way who had apparently been trying very hard to avoid us and were a little awkward) where the party had been (with some drunken boys throwing a bottle near him on the way) while I used the bathroom and he got his bike. The first thing I apparently said when my friend opened the door was "He said he likes me!" in a beatific tone. I quickly took a courage shot and updated this friend, who had been the one to encourage my telling him. Unfortunately once he got there I also told him to leave for a minute before me so that I could "talk to my friend about you". Questionable decisions...
During the course of the night, I also confessed that I thought he was both cute and hot, my anxieties about him not making a move and making all of them, and that he was the first guy I had told my feelings to (this in a tone of shock). I also said something on the bike about how we weren't having sex. Apparently honesty and alcohol are a dangerous combination...I still cringe a little.
Once we left, I discovered his bike was the kind that you need to stand on the back of. This was something I'd never done before, and my general sense of balance and drunkenness didn't help raise my confidence in this endeavour. However, I didn't say anything and got on, and it was surprisingly easy. After some debate about where to put my arms so I didn't choke him, I slipped them under his arms and up around them so that I was like a human backpack.
We rode fast through the deserted streets (in the back of my mind was the concern about a car appearing but no such thing happened) and I mentioned my slight worry about the speed. I feel like he went a little bit faster because he could tell I would tense up as he did and cuddle closer towards him, since he jokingly remarked on it. I was legitimately mildly worried about the steep slope near our library, and buried my face in the back of his neck as we went down. We reached our destination without incident, which turned out to be the lake.
I hadn't really thought about where we were going, but was fine with the lake once more and didn't think too much of it. This time I actually took off my jeans and shirt so I was in my underwear (basically a swimsuit), commenting on how my underwear had been cuter the last time around. I also made some sort of comment about how this would ruin my hair, which I had conditioned especially because I knew it would be in his face when we slept, which he seemed to amusedly appreciate.
The lake was a little colder this time, and I ended up somehow sitting in his lap facing him (slightly scandalous since both of us were in our underwear) as we cuddled and talked. I knew very clearly suddenly that he was going to kiss me and was immediately very afraid about being terrible at it - for inattentive non-existent readers, this was my first kiss.
So I indirectly staved it off, not awkwardly by moving my face away, but through sensing the mood and burying my face in his neck or kissing his nose instead and generally avoiding it.
Then he put his hands on his face and kissed me. It was kind of smooth, given my jokes about how he hadn't made the perfect first move in the lake (somehow I failed to predict this until right before he was about to kiss me). Unfortunately I was really freaking out about being a terrible kisser and having no idea of what I was doing, so I froze up a little and noticed the unfamiliar sensation of someone's lips moving against mine.
The moment was perfect and the kiss certainly wasn't disappointing, just a mix of terror and unfamiliarity. For days, I couldn't think about it without being embarrassed (he commented later while I was teasing him about making moves that I hadn't actually responded much at all, which I remarked was because I was terrified because "it was you!"). I pulled away relatively quickly and he was freezing so we got out of the lake.
Naturally, on my way out, I slipped on a mossy rock and fell with an audible thud onto my bum. I sat there and began laughing hysterically at this, since physical comedy always amuses me, but he was very concerned about my well-being. There weren't any scratches but I was a little bruised and sore the next day and he felt bad and I got some backrubs out of it. I didn't mind at all - it was my fault and I thought it was hilarious, but he blamed himself a little.
Once we were home, we just went to bed very quickly and fell asleep cuddling. He had to nudge me towards the bathroom to get me to change and not pass out in my wet clothes, which I then did. We definitely got sand from the lake all over my friend's bathroom - I felt pretty bad about this the next day but she said she didn't mind.
The next morning we were finally able to sleep in more, and cuddled most of the morning. I enjoyed this greatly. I woke up a little bit before him as usual - I couldn't sleep as much around him - and was basically texting/ IMing my friends about the night as I lay in his arms with his nose against my ear. I checked carefully to make sure he was actually asleep though.
I woke him around 11, as my friends were lazily making their way towards brunch. I asked him if he wanted to go to brunch, informing him on his affirmative response that all my friends would be there (his taste in women is inexplicable). He was a little embarrassed but still fine with it, though he insisted on going home to change before.
He joined us there a little later - it was a large group and things were boisterous but very enjoyable. My friends were their usual inappropriate selves (competing to drink more coffee, discussing various bodily functions), and a fun time appeared to have been had by all. I wrapped my legs around his under the table as we shared a veggie omelette and hash browns that I ate very little of despite having been hungry earlier.
After brunch, we all stood outside while I asked him a little awkwardly on the side what he wanted to do. He let me know that he had to go but (maybe) muttered something that sounded like a reassurance that he cared about me, which he refused to repeat and I didn't really hear. He helped a friend pack during the day, and they eventually slowed down and watched TV. I resented this a little since I wanted him to spend as much time with me as possible, but it wasn't too big a deal since I watched a movie with friends and we slacklined in a park and ordered Indian food and wandered around the town.
That day (Saturday), he came over before the party in the evening. This level of partying was abnormal for all of us, but it was the only weekend in my summer I got to be with friends so I made them throw parties and some occasions also fell during this period. We just lay there cuddling as it grew dark outside, and I wanted nothing more than to just stay there and fall asleep. He encouraged me to do so, but I was determined in my motivation to see some friends I hadn't really seen.
Everyone was pretty exhausted, and the party was even more low-key. It was a little awkward also because G (remember him?) was there. It's not like the two of us ever really dated or were even interested in each other, but it was a little awkward because he knew F and we had mutual friends, none of whom I wanted knowing about this given that it was a short fling. So I tried to keep it subtle around G.
We spent a lot of time just talking in the kitchen by ourselves during the party, although we did join the larger group for some games in the living room. We sat on the couch with my hand slipped in his in between us in a subtle manner, and he seemed to be having fun talking to my friends. My friend asked me an odd question during a game about "Top or bottom?" and I said "Top" but managed to clarify with a comeback that this was because it was a "stupid question and I'd said the first thing that came to mind". Studiously didn't look at him at this point.
I wasn't really feeling engaged in the party, and I felt bad making him leave since he seemed to be enjoying himself, but we ended up heading out pretty early. Once again, though, we were waiting for my friend and her boyfriend to get back (and they had been instructed to take their time) so we just walked around the town talking and with his arm around my shoulder (I put it there) or in mine. We also stopped a few times to stand with my arms around his neck or with his arms around me from behind.
We were walking in slightly removed parts of my town that I hadn't really been to before, and it was actually pretty great. We stopped by a children's park to stand and talk on the play bridge, to grab some kind of fruit from a tree (this was all him; one of them was bad) near a house, and just generally around town. At some point he thought he saw his older brother in a car passing by and immediately dropped my hand and moved forward to check it out (which didn't really bother me at the time but is a little prick of hurt now).
Honestly, in telling this story I feel as though words are slightly insufficient because they sound clichéd and incomplete and so incapable of encompassing the moments and emotions behind them. I hope your mind will be able to fill that in.
The part of our conversation I do remember (most of it was me spilling my thoughts about him to him) was that I told him most of my friends knew about the events between us. I believe it was in response to something he said about how he never discusses this kind of thing with his friends. I responded with surprise, and revealed many of my friends knew. He asked whom, and I listed about ten of my closest friends, to his mild consternation. I obviously then checked if that was okay, and told him that I obviously kept some details to myself, but he said he was fine with it.
Eventually we went back and kissed a little bit in the dark on the bed (initiated by him), and this time I was more enthusiastic and appreciated it more, but we passed out quickly. We cuddled all night (fun game: count how many times the word cuddled was used in this post).
We woke up around 8:50 a.m. when my friend and her boyfriend were heading out for the day and were saying goodbye. Fun fact: the first time my friend had walked in the previous day while we were cuddling, he had quickly jumped away, but by this point he was probably accustomed to my friends and didn't even move from where we lay spooning as my friends walked by.
It was only when my friend said goodbye to me (I knew I wouldn't see him for six months) that I jumped up to hug him, after which they left and we returned to being wrapped around each other. He had said he needed to leave at 10 (while I had to leave for the airport at 12), and it was about 8:50 a.m. at this point.
I felt like we should do something instead of just sleeping the morning away, and said as much. Of course his response was just "whatever you want". At first I had some vague desire to go get food or something, but then I realized I was perfectly happy to lie there and casually talk and cuddle.
He made a move at some point and we essentially made out off and on for about two and a half hours (he ended up actually leaving around 11:30 a.m.). This time I was a lot less worried about being terrible at it because I was getting more practice and was a little more prepared, and it just felt good. I finally understood why people do it all the time.
I did forget at the start to stop breathing/ taking breaks to breathe naturally and got a little bit lightheaded (amateur) and had to stop for a brief pause, where I began laughing and said something about how he was making it hard to breathe (then paused and was like "Did I really just say that?" as he laughed). I also said something in one of the pauses about how I heard [the city where I was for the summer] was a really nice place to visit. He just said 'hm' or some such thing, and a few minutes later I corrected this by saying that it was actually not a very nice city (he was like yes I heard there isn't much to see there) but that the city where my parents live is actually very nice. This was strategic since this was where he was going to study abroad, and he said some sort of yes. After which I reiterated that there was no pressure to do this, and he laughed and we resumed.
Another little moment I remember is when I was somehow on top of him (I think I was trying to get to the other side of the couch) while making out. I was resting most of my weight on my arm by his side and complained a little about my arm hurting. It took him a second or so to process this, but when he did he just swung me over him so that we switched and he was on top. This I especially enjoyed because I love when he takes the lead and moves me around a little like I weigh nothing.
We didn't do much beyond kissing - his hands were in my shirt but just on my back and most places that weren't my chest. My hands were mostly wrapped around his neck or in his hair, though a couple of times I placed them a little awkwardly on his back. I wouldn't have minded if he went further but I didn't quite know how to ask beyond pressing myself against him (which I did). I think I told my friends we got to second base. He did do a lot of stuff that made me feel like he cared, like making the first move, and kissing other parts of my face in between and cuddling me and playing with my hair. All of which I greatly appreciated.
I still cringe when I realize that I hadn't brushed my teeth at this point even though I got up to use the bathroom. It wasn't an issue on his part since he got up at some point to freshen up, but I was just tired and disinclined to move. I later discovered that this was because I was literally just about to get my period, but it's still not the best thing.
When he finally had to leave, I got up to say goodbye and he kissed me goodbye - I realized this was the first time we'd kissed standing up. I was sad to see him go, since I wouldn't see him again before he left for the year. We didn't really comment on it much, just kissing before he left.
After he left, I realized I'd gotten my period (fortunately I expected it a little), and just wandered around in a haze of pain and sadness, packing. A few of my friends came over and brought me soup as I updated them, which I appreciated and made me less sad and flat-feeling. Then I left around 12:40, uncaring about missing my flight - though I didn't.
That was it. We continued texting while we were able - for the next three weeks until the end of my summer, and there was a little awkwardness when I thought he didn't want to talk any more (I was reading too much into things as usual) but it was generally enjoyable and I was still clearly into him. We had established clearly that we were still going to be friends, which helped. I wasn't too sad, but there was a week or so of dejection with little to distract me as I thought of the summer that might have been.
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