No Strings

CHAPTER 4--Stop Light; Go Light

"Why do you always want expensive dates?" he asked. "C'mon, we can't go anywhere anyway."

He was my first boyfriend. I only dated him because I was told he liked me. He'd confessed and insisted that he date me.

"OK, but I don't want to do anything weird."

He laughed. "Of course not."

He opened the door for me and I sat in the car with him on the driver's side. I wrung my hands, blowing on them to keep them from getting cold. He slammed his side of the door.

"This is much better," he said.

I couldn't understand how this was much better. My classmates went to places such as the mall, movies and places that were warm.

My breath curled on the air.

"It's so cold," I said, my teeth chattering.

"It'll get better, I promise," he said.

"Someone said that guys take off their jackets for girls they like... is that true?" I asked, as my breath curled into the air.

"I thought you said you were a feminist, Bess."

I nodded and shivered more.

"Besides, you should hear what my Old Man did to me in kindergarten. "

This was a story I'd heard many times before.

"I was sitting in kindergarten for five hours before my father got off his ass and picked me up from kindergarten. Five hours."

I was supposed to nod and say yes. I secretly thought it was stupid because it was only the one time.

"It still scars me to this day."

"You could talk to him about it..." I said, off script.

"What with my scars? Do you think he would listen? Of course you don't think so. Because you're on my side right? You like me, right?"

I wasn't sure what to reply.

"Five hours, Bess. Five hours, I waited for him on that day. And he didn't call ahead to tell he would be late. Isn't that terrible? I can tell from your face you think it was."

The words built up inside of me. My opinions and feelings were no longer in my chest, but in my throat, I said in a whisper, "I would like to talk."

"You talk more than I do," he said.

"But I want to say some things sometimes. I want you to listen to me too."

"But you talk so much. You talked about wanting to work in advertising, didn't you?"

That was one sentence.

"I listen to your stuff too. Didn't I listen to you about how you liked my car? We discussed about how your curfew is early. That's nothing compared to my curfew. My curfew is at eight o'clock."

"But..." I said.

"Your parents aren't horrible to you. Mine are. So I have more stuff to talk about, and because it seems all bad to you it would seem like I talk more."

I looked at my watch. He'd been talking for three minutes straight now.

"Look, they bought me a car, but won't give me the keys or gas money. And you know how long I had to wait in that kindergarten? Twelve hours. If it was a day my Old Man wouldn't care."

He wasn't looking at me as he went on.

"It's not that..." I started, but he ignored me. I tried to say it louder and his voice rose above mine. I stared out the window waiting for it to stop. He didn't notice.