My best friend Karl and I grew up together. We've known each other since we were babies. Our mothers were best friends and they got married about the same time and spent all their time together, so I think we were even changed on the same table and took baths together. We did everything together, we had all the same interests.
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Kendra pulled the note out of her pocket and read it again.
Kendra,
I'm sorry that I've hurt you. What we had was great. But, we both know that it's time to move on. I hope that someday you can look back on this and not hate me.
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The dance music was loud. The club was packed with sweaty bodies, and Karen was thirsty. She moved past gyrating bodies and through entangled couples. The dance club charged a lot for drinks, so she ordered a bottle of water and retreated to a corner. She sipped it and stared out at the dance floor. Karen was a twenty three year old senior in college, finishing up a Masters in communication.
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"Redhead by the bar," I nudged Michael. He raised his eyes, found her, then winced. "Too sexy for me?"
He nodded, "Too sexy for you," then slowly sipped his soda.
"I thought so." She looked again in my direction. I froze, caught staring for the umpteenth time.
The first time I noticed her was earlier that night. I was sweeping the pub with my eyes when they landed straight on hers. She smiled, nodded discreetly, and turned away, leaving me confused and embarrassed, as if I had been the one snooping.
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This is a memory of my first time with a good friend. It happened in the 1980s in a small town in California.
The first time I was with another girl was my senior year in high school, just after I'd turned 18. I was a bit of a late bloomer but by my senior year I'd finally started to fill out, get noticed by boys, and, I suppose, give myself permission to be interested in sex.
My boobs were small, an A cup at best for most of my first three years but by my senior year they'd grown into a solid B and my hips started to expand and I felt more comfortable in my own skin. I stood about 5'5 with shoulder length, dark brown hair. I was an athlete and in good shape and as my body matured, it was nice to feel like I fit in a bit more and that made me less self-conscious.
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"My sweet Lord," I heard her whisper under her breath, as I framed her face with my hand, and gently turned her to look me in the eye.
"Shh," I hushed, my face inches from hers, "don't speak."
I curled my lips over hers, my bottom lip gliding into her mouth. I settled in closer, my other hand sliding down her arm to lace our fingers together.
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There are a thousand possible beginnings to the story of how this happened, and they're all swirling together at this moment. People tell stories of how they fell in love, how they knew that the person on their mind was the person they wanted to spend forever with, and that's something I could never quite wrap my head around.
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It was summer. I was visiting with Sinéad (no, not that Sinéad), my aunt, in her very nice apartment in Chicago. Sinéad was 28 then, single, working, and not at home much. We would spend most of our together time on weekends, but I was pretty much left to my own devices during the week. I'd visited before from Ireland, but never alone or to stay for the whole summer.
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I always thought that Jessica had a beautiful body, although I tried my best to pretend not to notice. I was 24 then, and she was 21. We'd met at church 5 years earlier, and had been best friends from the beginning. Jess was one of those "comfortable with her body" people, which made it difficult for me to pretend I wasn't attracted to her on some level.
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It was Halloween and I was excited. I love Halloween; more specifically, I love dressing up for Halloween. I typically spend all year planning my costume, leading up to the big night when I would go out with my husband and our friends for a night on the town.
This year I had dressed up as a British policewoman, with a short black pencil skirt, knee length black boots, and a snug white dress shirt with a black and white checked cravat.
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