The feeling of shock was overwhelming when Melody flew through the back door as if pushed by someone. I’m not sure if she was looking for me, or just needed some air too, but there we were … face-to-face like we hadn’t been in years.
“Hi,” she uttered. It was the first word she had spoken to me in what felt like forever. I couldn’t remember what we had said to each other last. I just knew how much I needed to hear that word form on her lips.
“It’s so stuffy out in the shop. There are so many people tonight, and I needed some fresh air,” I said, trying to keep the conversation casual, scared to chase Melody off ... again.
She gazed at me as if she wanted me to say more, but it also seemed like she didn’t know where to start. “Yeah,” she replied.
I didn’t realize I had still been clicking the button on the side of my phone because my focus was on Melody.
“I—”
She couldn’t seem to get out whatever was on the tip of her tongue, and I was sure she was about to return to the party, so I knew I had to say something. “You okay?” I asked.
Melody’s eyes seemed fixed to the wall behind me, and she held her focus there for a long second as she dipped her hands into her back pocket. “Um—yeah—I know we haven’t spoken much over the past couple of years, but I—”
I wondered if she knew how much I missed talking to her after she walked by me so many times. Maybe she thought I didn’t notice. “You what?”
Melody’s cheeks brightened to a light shade of pink, and she closed her eyes for an elongated blink. Her lips pressed together before parting to speak. “I might have a teeny-tiny little crush on you, which is lame and stupid to say out loud, but I heard you’re leaving for boot camp soon, and I figured maybe I should say something.”
I wasn’t expecting to hear the words that came out of her mouth. I didn’t even know she knew I was leaving for boot camp. I’m sure our parents spoke, but I never knew to what extent. If I told her I felt the same way, the truth would have only hurt her, being so close to leaving for boot camp. And if I didn’t respond, I would have been the biggest jerk in the world. I didn’t know what to say, but I wish I had thought of something better than, “That’s very sweet.”
The hue of her cheeks burned into a deeper shade of red. I embarrassed her.
A hiccup shuttered through Melody’s body, interrupting our awkward conversation. For what I thought was embarrassment a moment earlier was nothing compared to the current look. She cupped her hands over her mouth, staring at me with a look of horror. “Sorry, I had a little—” she muttered through her hands.
I smiled to ease her discomfort. “Did you sneak a little bourbon?”
She smiled in return, and it was as if our long-lost friendship was back where it should have been. Maybe it was one-sided, but to me, it felt like no time had passed.
“A little; a couple of sips,” she said.
I held my hand up, pinching my fingers in front of my eye to question the amount she consumed. “I thought you were the well behaved one of Mr. Quinn’s daughters?” I asked with a chuckle.
“I am!” Melody squealed. She responded as if I questioned her integrity, but also found the statement humorous.
“Well,” I said, immediately wishing I hadn’t begun such an open-ended statement with nothing to follow. I was surely about to lose control over what would come out of my mouth. “I can’t say I haven’t noticed your beauty these last couple of years. It’s weird after growing up around each other, then seeing you in a new way.” I should have stopped after saying I noticed her.
“It’s the red hair,” she said, making it sound as if someone needed an excuse to notice her. Her hair is not what makes her stand out. She doesn’t need any kind of unique feature to be the center of attention. “It got redder as I got older, and now, I stand out like a sore thumb.”
Panic set in when I wondered what she thought I meant. “That’s not what I meant,” I tried to correct myself.
“Oh,” she said, breathless while sweeping her hair away from her shoulders.
I stepped toward Melody, needing her to understand that I was not taking her confession as a simple compliment. There were countless times I wished she spoke to me before that night. “It’s true, though, I’m leaving for boot camp soon.” Why did I sign those papers without a second thought? I should have just retaken the SATs and, waited a few weeks to think things through. I had so many reasons for joining and very few for trying harder to get into a college. Yet, at that moment, I had more reasons to stay in Vermont and work harder to attend college than to become someone I wasn’t cut out to be. I was acting on those regretful thoughts as I reached for Melody’s chin, sweeping my fingers toward her neck, encouraging her to gaze up at me. “If I wasn’t leaving—”
It was the dumbest thing I could have said or done to her and myself.
Before I could consider my next actions, I lunged forward until our noses touched, and I closed my eyes. The knot in my throat made me pause. My heart and mind battled with each other, and there wasn’t a winning side.
Screw it, I thought as I touched my lips to hers—the lips I needed to feel. My mind went blank as I pressed my hand against Melody’s burning cheek, and I curled my fingers behind her ear. My body was screaming demands. I needed to hold her closer, but I had already gone further than I should have. I was still leaving and shouldn’t have started a new chapter I knew I couldn’t finish.
Despite the bit of rationale running through my mind, I couldn’t part my lips from hers. It was an unbreakable magnetic force. It was something I didn’t know I needed but somehow could not resist. A drug. An instant addiction. My stomach ached, and my heart raced. I was so damn stupid.
Another one of Melody’s hiccups interrupted our kiss. Her face filled with a look of humiliation once again, but among her embarrassment and frazzled gaze, she stared longingly as if trying to analyze the thoughts behind my eyes.
“Don’t gulp the bourbon next time,” I told her, resting my hand on her shoulder, grinning for her comfort. I didn’t know how to move on from there. I’d kiss her again if it wouldn’t cause more pain down the road, but it would, for me, at least. I licked my lips, tasting the cherry-flavored lip-gloss she was wearing. “Thank you for a memorable night, Melody.”
Her eyes were full of despair. She knew it was over, just as I did. But how could something be over before it started? Rather than waiting for her to speak the first hello, I should have approached her long before that night.
