He and She Saturday-Foreplay to Dating.

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“So let me get this straight-he kissed you on the cheek?” Daphne asked for yet the hundredth time.

I nodded, not really minding to tell this story again. When I left Andrew, I made a beeline for Daphne’s house where we spent the last two hours replaying what had just happened. We were typical high school girls, and whenever a boy told us we were beautiful we would spend moments analyzing it. Why would he call us beautiful? Did he like us? Did he really like us, or was he just lying?

Being a high school juinior with no self confidence can truly be annoying.

“I told you that he liked you”, she said.

“I know you did.”

“You’re going to have a good time”, she said. “Do you know what you’re going to wear?”

I nodded. “But I have a week to figure it out.”

She smiled excitedly. “I know! We should go shopping because you’re going to want to find a super-awesome outfit.”

I narrowed my gaze at her. “But, my outfits are already super-awesome. “

“So, one more outfit isn’t going to hurt.”

“That just gives you an excuse to shop.”

She laughed. “Well, it does give me that. What do you have against shopping?”

“Nothing, except that you do an awful lot of it.”

“I need things.”

I looked into her crowded closet, full of shoes in multiple colors and styles, jeans in a variety of washes, and a whole rainbow of shirts.

“Not in every color.”

“Yes I do! That way, I have the basics.”

I rolled my eyes. “The basics would be in a few colors that go with everything. Not every color.”

“Don’t hate on me just because I have a more awesome wardrobe than you.” She stuck out her tongue at me.

“My wardrobe is pretty fine thank you very much. And I don’t have one of everything in every color.”

We laughed. That was the thing about Daphne. We could tease each other about just about anything, and then  as soon as you think that we probably had enough of each other for good, we suddenly burst out laughing. It was the way that our friendship always was, is, and will be.

“So, what do you say?” Daphne asked as we finished our explosions of laughter. “Wanna hit the mall?”

I smiled weakly, not sure what was going to be in store for me. “Sure”.

Two hours later, I spent more money than I should have, and had more bags that were digging a read mark in my hands as a result. This was the work of Daphne, who had insisted that I would buy a few options, just because you can’t really predict the weather. What if it was cold? What if there was suddenly a heat wave? Daphne had an excuse for buying just about everything, as long as it was on sale.

I heard a soft muted ping from inside of my bag. Part of me hoped that it was Andrew, but the other part of me told myself that I shouldn’t get my hopes up. The tips of my mouth creased into a smile, because I didn’t know the number. Therefore, it must be Andrew.

Andrew; Hi, it’s Andrew. I wanted to give you my number, just so you can have it. I hope you’re having a great day, and that you’re not creeped out by how early I am to text you.

Me; I am not creeped out. I am happy that you’re texting me.

Andrew; I am too. :D

Me: What’s up?

Andrew: Not much, and you?

Me: Not much, just got back from a shopping trip with my best friend.

Andrew: Ooh, girl’s night out? Did you buy anything interesting?

Me; Not really. I bought something to wear to our date next week.

Andrew; I look foreward to seeing that. I bet that you’ll look amazing. You always do :D

Me: Well, thank you.

Andrew: You don’t seem happy that I think that you’re cute..?

Me: Because I don’t believe you.

Andrew: Well, believe it. I think that you’re extremely cute. I think that you’re amazing, and I know that it’s too soon for me to be saying that.

Me: Nope, not at all.

Andrew: Good, cause I do.

Me: You’re very cliché.

Andrew: I guess that’s a good thing then.

Me: Not for me.

Andrew: Why not?

Me: I am not a huge fan of the whole cliché romantic movie thing.

Andrew: Aren’t all girls a fan of things like that?

Me: That is such a stereotype.

Andrew: Really?

Me: Well, you shouldn’t believe in stereotypes.

Andrew: Why not?

Me: Because they are not always true.

Andrew: I am sorry to assume that.

Me: You know what they say when you assume things.

Andrew: Yes, I do.

I looked at the clock, and wiped my tired eyes. It was almost midnight, and I was sitting in the same position that I was earlier. My bags still had clothes in them, and I’m sure that by now they were probably more wrinkled then the old women in titanic.

Me: We’ve been texting for pretty much all night. I’m tired and I’m gonna go to bed. Mind if I text you tomorrow?

Andrew: Of course, not. I hope you sleep well, my darling.

Me: I am not yours yet.

Andrew: But, you will be.

I closed my phone, and shut it. I couldn’t sleep right now, so I hung my clothes up. I got my pajamas on, and just laid there. I didn’t know what to think, or what this was, but I was falling to some unknown gravity. Was this what falling in love felt like?  Or was this what falling in love with someone who was falling in love with you too felt like.

If it did, then it felt nice.

He and She Saturday-Do You Wanna Go Out?

Miss last week's She and He? Check it out here.

That moment it seemed like I was locked under his prison, and held the key for release. His voice was like music to my already musical ears. His name felt like velvet against the root of my mouth, kind of like I was eating the world’s most richest chocolate. I was probably staring at him the way the animals stared at their prey, kind of like I was willing him to say more. I probably was also creeping him out. My mind went blank, and I just focused completely and totally on him.

“So”, he said, as he finally took the plunge and broke the awkward silence. It was probably too awkward for either of us to bear. “Have you played the flute for very long?”

I nodded. “Yup, since third grade,” I said, as I looked down at my tiny instrument. “How about you? Have you played the clarinet for very long?”

“Since I was five”, he said.

“Why the clarinet?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Because my mom wanted me to play the flute, but my dad thought that it was way too girly of an instrument. So, the clarinet was a compromise.”

“Was it?”

“Not really.”

“You don’t like to play the clarinet?” I asked. I was shocked, because he gave off the vibe as a clarinet expert.

“For a while, yes. I loved it. But, I can’t wait until high school is over so I can sell this thing and buy a car.”

I looked at him skeptically. “You really think that a clarinet would be worth the same as a car?”

He chuckled. “Yes. Well a used car, or a car that was driven very little by an old lady whose license has been removed, and she wants to get rid of her car for some pocket change. Probably for cab or bus fare.”

“Money for a car is pocket change?”

“To a rich old lady, yes.”

“Oh so now she’s rich?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you know that?”

“No.”

“I guess that I should be more specific in my examples then.”

“I guess you should be.”

Before our flirty banter could continue, our no-nonsense band director sauntered into the band room. Needless to say he stomped all over my chances of getting to know this all too perfect stranger.

For a couple of weeks, our flirty banters continued. And then, after band, I would play back each and every word spoken by the two of us to my best friend Daphne. During both of those, I wondered would he ask me out? But, he didn’t, which was the agony of almost every teenage girl who was in love with someone who probably was none the wiser.

One Friday after school, I saw him getting his clarinet out of his band locker for the weekend. Coming from geometry, my head was already topsy-turvy and I didn’t want to get into more confusion than I already was in.

“Hey Kitty Cat”, he said, smiling.

“Hey”, I said, trying to sound cool.

“Do you have a moment? I wanted to ask you something.”

My heart began to race, and I felt weird, tingly. There was nothing more nerve wrecking than having your crush say those worlds, because they could mean just about anything.

“Yeah sure”, I said, trying to sound even cool and chill than I did before. Now, it was more of an effort. My palms began to sweat. What could he possibly have to ask me, I wondered.

“I was wondering if you liked to go to the football game next week with me?” he asked.

“Sure”, I said, failing at hiding my smile. It’s always a good thing when your crush asks you if you want to hang out. Even when you have no idea what kind of hanging out session it’s going to be? Is it going to be as friends? Or is it a date? The choices were so broad. I tried to hide my excitement, and have it bottled up. But still, I felt like at any moment, I was going to explode.

“Cool”, he said. He too was grinning. “Do you like pizza?”

“Yes, I like pizza.”

“Good. Would you be down to get some after?”

“Sure”, I said.

“Great. Can I have your number?”

“Sure”, I said. Clearly, I couldn’t find any other words.

He pulled out a black iPhone, and I punched my number in.

“I’ll text you later so that way you can have mine”, he said.

I nodded. I tried not to smile too much or look too overeager. But I still wanted to show him that I was very much looking foreword to this date. It was a hard thing to try to muster both. Of course, I wanted to jump up and down. But that would be saved for later, when I met up with Daphne to relive the events that just happened.

“I’ll look foreword to receiving your text at some point”, I said. ‘God, I sound stupid’, I thought.

“I look foreword to texting you at some point”, he said, as he smiled even more than I did. He had really nice teeth-very white, shiny, and perfectly straight.

“Hey can I ask you something?” I asked. I had to do this quickly, before I lost all of my nerve.

“Is this going to be a date?” I asked. It was way too blunt and direct for it to be me.

“Well, let’s see. It’s Friday night, and I’m planning to wear lots of hair gel, smell really good, and wear something that will make you unable to stop thinking about me. I also am planning to pay for the pizza, in addition to the game tickets. Does this sound like a date to you? I think it does.”

I nodded, smiling. It’s always a good thing when your crush asks you out on a date. It was a pretty much safe bet that he liked you just as much or even more than you liked them.

“It’s a date”, I said.

He kissed my on my forehead. “I am looking foreword to having the privilege to going out on a date with you, Miss Cathleen O’Connor”.

“I am too”, I said, as I struggled to catch my breath.

He just grabbed his clarinet, and I just stood there, unable to move, but suddenly had the unsual desire to do a lot of cartwheels.

She and He Saturday-The Moment I Fell In Love.

The following story is completely fictional. Any relation to actual events, people, and things is completely and utterly cocindental. 

The Moment That I Fell In Love;

Sometimes, when you meet the one you just know. It’s like when you find the perfect pair of jeans. It’s like someone said, ‘these are made just for you.’ Similar to the person being made just for you. It’s cheesy, and crazy but it is true. We can’t help but believe the cliché aspects of life, because they are true.

I was a skeptic, and I was a fool. However, I didn’t realize how beautiful love could be.

This is my story.  My story of how I met the one.

Two and a half years earlier-

            Let me take you back to a time of my life when I wasn’t the most attractive person in high school. I was a band nerd, who knew more about playing the flute than I did actually communicating with people. This was a rough time, but it’s okay because we all get through those rough times as teenagers, and laugh at them when they reappear for Throwback Thursday. However, deep inside we want to cringe when they appear on our newsfeed.

            Anyways, it happened on the first day of band class. It was actually the third day of school, but the band director always gave us a few days to dust off our instruments, and bring them back to school. Or file them in the witness protection program, because they seemed to have disappeared. People going to hell and back to discover where in the closet their flute is.  People trying to explain to their parents that they would rather be in art class than take another year of the saxophone.

            I was connecting my head joint to my body piece when I saw him. He looked like James Dean, only in a nerd’s outfit. He wore a bright fire engine red polo shirt, and khaki shorts. His eyes were a piercing blue, so electrifying that if I got too close I might have to go in the emergency room for electric shock treatment. He wore thick hipster-style glasses, and was wearing brand new black Converse sneakers. He was the typical geek, but something was drawing me to him like a magnet. It was like when you found that perfect pair of shoes on sale, and they were exactly what you were looking for, only better. It was like they were waiting for you to come and get them, kind of like that it was meant to be.

            I was secretly willing him to come closer, so that way we can talk, and I won’t be the creepy girl who likes him from afar. Please sit next to me I willed secretly. If all of the things in the world that I wanted to come true, it would be that he would come to the chair next to me.

            And sure enough he did. Something inside me wanted to perform more cartwheels than the cheerleading team did. Now, I only wished that I had the courage to say hello.

            He played the clarinet. He looked like a doe, innocent. He did seem to have more knowledge about the instrument than the person who invented it. I wondered if he could feel the weight of my eyes, which were studying him more than I did for my PSATS. I was studying the way that his perfect chestnut hair fell into those blue eyes. I was studying the way that he put the instrument with extreme precision. But most of all, I was sending him telepathetic messages for him to talk to me. He was too engrossed into his instrument for him to even know that there was a person sitting right next to him.

            He came up for air a few moments later.

            “Hi,” he said. “My name’s Andrew. What’s yours?”

            “Cat. Which is short for Cathleen.”

            “Nice to meet you, Cat.”

            And that my friends, was the moment that I fell in love.
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Fictional Friday; The River

Hey there guys. So, I wanted to share with you some fiction that I wrote. I actually had to write it for a poetry class, believe it or not. However, I am so excited to be writing some short stories, thus creating a new feature on Finding My Voice called 'Fictional Friday'. Nonetheless, all of the story is completely fiction. If there are any representations of any actual characters, then it's completely coincidental. So, sit back, relax, and enjoy the story.

Here we were again. Near a peaceful river, where there was nothing but old memories, and new discoveries. Where I sat on a gray boulder with him by my side, so close that I could hear his breathing. It was so quiet, so peaceful, and I could see the reflection of the water mirroring up back at us. This was our place, that one place of peace that we can go to whenever we just needed a break from the world. Greenery was surrounding us. I felt like it was in some twisted real life fairy tale.

Daniel looked down at me, and he smiled. I remember when I first fell in love with that smile. He was handsome, kind of like the stereotypical Prince Charming. He had floppy auburn hair, the kind that just seemed to naturally fall just right. It was in a high school crowded cafeteria, where there was loud noise, a couple making out a table over from us, and obnoxious freshmen that thought that they knew everything when they clearly didn't. He sat next to me, and we became friends.

The last time we were here, the lines between friendship and relationship have been blurred. It was two years ago, when we were fresh out of high school. We went to prom together, and all signs pointed that we were headed towards coupleville. But, when I started college things changed.

Now, things were different. We knew that we were meant to be friends. We knew that it would only be fair, to my boyfriend to be friendzoned. In some way, we did that to each other. But still, there was some kind of strong feeling deep down in the lining of it.

"Remember when we went here a few years ago?" I asked, breaking the awkward silence.

He nodded. "Yeah." He seemed like he was depressed about it, an underlying tone of regret that was underneath it all.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked.

He nodded.

"What?" I challenged.

"I regret not kissing you here two years ago", he muttered. I was reminded of Charlie Brown who was too shy to even approach the little red haired girl. He sounded reluctant to admit it, like he knew it was wrong.

"Why don't you now?" I asked. I knew that this was wrong, but I really didn't care. I had Andrew's feelings to consider. Well, I should consider them anyways. All I could think about was the hunger that I felt for Daniel's lips that were gently brushing against mine. I shouldn't be thinking about it, because I had made my decision and we were now just friends. This wasn't in the relationship bible. This was in the relationship commandments. Thou shall not kiss people that were not your partner.

"What about your boyfriend?" he asked.

"I think that you're going to become my boyfriend. That is, if you decide to kiss me right this very second." I smiled and attempted to gaze at him flirtatiously. I failed.

He kissed me, and it was wonderful. It felt like something was charging between the two of us, like I was positive and he was negative. Together we were perfect, however, I still thought about Andrew. His face when I would tell him its over.

However, I didn't think about that now. I thought about how good it was to kiss him in this very moment. How his lips felt like pillows when they rubbed against mine. I wondered if he was wearing Chapstick.

He pulled away. "So....?" he asked.

I swallowed hard. I knew what I had to do, despite the fact that it was going to break Andrew's heart. "I have a call to make when I get home."

The rest of the day was filled with us making out near that rock. When I finally stumbled in my house, I saw Andrew on my porch. With a bouqet of freshly picked daisies. A rock formed at the pit of my stomach.

He kissed my cheek. "How was your walk?"

"It was okay."

"Is something wrong?"

I stared at him, in the eyes. I knew that I couldn't lie to him. He reminded me of a puppy. He's intentions were innocent, and he was loyal. Never would Andrew dream of kissing another girl.

I gotta tell him. "Andrew I kissed another guy."

He looked like I told him that the world was ending. I could see tears fill up in the brim of his light blue eyes, and he trying to be brave and making sure he stood strong.

"Daniel?"

"Yes."

He turned away.

"I'm sorry." There was nothing else to say, despite the fact that I actually wasn't. My actions weren't something that I was proud of, however I didn't feel one ounce of sorrow for them. I guess I was the most selfish person in the world, not caring about others' feelings. I must be driving a knife into his heart, and now I couldn't even feel sorry for the blood he was shedding on my account.

"It's over", he said, voice breaking. He turned to leave. I didn't stop him. I watched him drive away in the car that once made us, well us. I didn't cry. All I wanted was Daniel.

I decided to wait a week before calling him. I wanted to show Andrew some degree of respect before flaunting my relationship with Daniel. When I finally did, the phone didn't ring.

"Hey", he said. He sounded like he was waiting for my call.

"You gotta moment?"

"All of the time in the world."

"Come over then."

In five minutes, he was at my porch.

"So we broke up."

He took it as an invitation to kiss me.

I pulled away. "Wait."

"What?" he asked. "I can kiss you now."

"Says who?" I asked biting my lip.

"Says your boyfriend", he said.

"You have to ask me that", I said.

"Okay", he asked. He got down on one knee, and grabbed my hand. His palms were drenched with sweat.

"Lauren. You've been my best friend since sophomore year. However, I want you to be more than that. Will you be my girlfriend?"

I nodded. I knew this was right, depsite the fact of the lack of sorrow that I felt when Andrew on this same porch said we were done. Some things come natural despite that we may not want them to. And therefore, we must not feel sorry for them. Instead, we must embrace the natural things and how like rivers,someting things just flow together.

Like they are supposed to be.