God and Men, Part 2

After I broke up with Michael, Scott and I had a brief relapse.  He had a car, by then, and took me out for a milkshake one night.  We sat in the car in front of my parents’ house and made out.  He told me, “It’s been too long.”  I melted.

I had invited him to Youth Group with me.  That was weird, of course, because everyone was used to Michael and me being together.  By the end of that week, Scott told me that he thought we should just be friends.  I held it together, unlike the last time he broke up with me.  I picked up my snare drum and walked back to band practice.  My throat was tight with anger and hurt, but I refused to cry in front of him.

I spent a weekend at Mike and Jill’s house soon after that.  One morning, I walked down the street and around the corner to a car wash, where I knew Dave worked.  He was there.  I walked over and talked to him and he seemed happy to see me.  His friend, Roy was there, spending the day with him.  We made small talk, and he asked me what I was up to.  I coyly mentioned that there was a homecoming dance coming up that I wanted to go to.  Roy said, “Take David, he wants to go with you.”

I looked at Dave and he kind of grinned.  I said, “Do you?”  He laughed and jokingly said yes.  I didn’t know what to think.  I said, “ok, I’ll call you with details.”  Then I walked back to Mike and Jill’s.

Although there was some minor drama, (Michael had been guilt-tripping him about going out with me) Dave showed up at my door on the night of the dance.  He’d brought me a rose.  It was white.  He said, “A white rose is a sign of friendship, so I brought you one!”

I was so excited, I was trembling.  Dave had Bon Jovi hair, full lips, large biceps, and he smelled so good.  We went to the dance and had a fun time.  When he took me home, he walked me to the door.  My parents had already gone to bed, so we were alone in our kitchen.  We stood there awkwardly, looking at each other and blushing, shyly.  Finally, he asked if he could have a hug.  We hugged, and then we were kissing.  It was a wonderful, passionate kiss.  He felt so strong, even his lips felt strong.

When we pulled apart, he looked away.  I said, “Did you do that because that’s just what you do at the end of an evening?”  Dave was 3 and a half years older than me, so I thought he must know more about dating than I did.

He shook his head and looked away bashfully.  I held him by his jacket and said, ever so eloquently, “Come on, you spill your guts, I’ll spill mine.”

Dave looked at me with his beautiful hazel eyes and said, “I’ve wanted to do that pretty much as long as I’ve known you.”

I said, “Me too!”

Then we walked into the living room, sat down on the sofa, and kissed and cuddled for a couple of hours.

I had a band competition the next morning.  Michael was still in marching band with me, and he knew I was tired and made assumptions as to why.  I wasn’t exactly discreet, either.  Dave’s whiskers had rubbed a raw spot on my bottom lip.  I called it the callous on my lip.  Michael whimpered and whined, that’s how he was.  I ignored it and basked in the afterglow of my evening with the man of my dreams.

The next several months were ugly and confusing.  Dave was supposed to come take me out and he had his sister call and tell me that he wouldn’t be coming.  Then he didn’t call or contact me for some time.

Ultimately, my 17th birthday came around, and Michael wanted to host my birthday party at his house and have the band play.  I can’t remember why that seemed like a reasonable thing considering Michael had a girlfriend who didn’t like me,  but it happened, and my friends and family were there.  At the party, Dave flirted and paid as much attention to me as he could.  Michael seemed ok with it, so I guess Dave had gotten his blessing.  I basically asked my parents to leave so that Dave would be the one to take me home.

When it was time for him to take me home, he again, got out of the car to walk me to the door.  We didn’t make it to the door, though.  He leaned against the rear of my mom’s car and pulled me to him.  We kissed these quick little pecks over and over and held each other and giggled a lot.  Finally, he put his hands on either side of my face and said, “I think it’s like this,” then he kisssed me deeply and long.  I melted like butter.  Then he walked me to the door and went home.

To be continued….

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July 23, 2018

I would say that Dave sounded like he was an overall good person,and that I like the way that you talk about him, but it was pretty douchey of him to kiss a teenaged girl and not call her for months.

July 23, 2018

@justamillennial, Dave was a good person.  He wasn’t a good husband.  We’ll get to that.

July 23, 2018

@oniongirl, so sorry to hear that about Dave. I’ll definitely be able to develop a more informed opinion of him, after I post your entry, but the two of you were very young at the time.

As you were only 18, when you got married, and he was 21, he could have been fairly immature, at that point.

July 23, 2018

Sounds like Dave was the sweetheart, Why the others couldn’t be like him I don’t know why….He should have been a lot more honest with you of why he didn’t call….I would have asked him why.

I had a 7 year relationship broken up by my f_cking foster mother bc I was having sex in my bedroom and she wasn’t happy about that.