On February 12, 1995,
Hunter chomped through thick snow
and watched his footing over black ice
through Mary’s elevated driveway
and held a rail as he climbed the stairs
to her porch.
In his bathroom mirror, Hunter chatted with Mary.
He said what he thought he’d say to her face.
New Found Glory played on the stereo as he dressed.
Mary preferred R&B.
The genre was rubbing off on Hunter.
He added Keith Sweat to his playlist.
Hunter buttoned a Polo shirt
and shoved his feet into faded skinny jeans
and laced dark brown boots.
He zipped a black, fluffy jacket to his chin.
He gargled with mouthwash.
Mary and Hunter grew up in the same neighborhood
and attended the same schools.
But Mary had stuck-up friends
with attitudes and Valley Girl slang.
It nauseated Hunter.
He’d think about her
and tell himself he didn’t have a shot.
But his charm rearranged his luck
when the two became friends after being lab
partners in a chemistry class.
He lived two blocks from her place.
Hunter had religious guilt
over the lust that boiled
in his heart, but he thought being friends,
friends and nothing more,
would turn things around.
Hunter stomped his feet on the welcome mat.
He folded his hand and knocked
on her door.
A brisk breeze whipped chills
through his jacket.
The snowstorm had school
canceled for the week.
Shovels clanked against accumulated
snowy ice as people
shoveled sidewalks and driveways.
And Mary’s mother’s plane had a layover.
Their parents agreed
to let them watch a movie.
Their parents didn’t know the two
liked each other as a potential romantic target.
But they needed to keep
their ninth-grade hands from traveling
the length of each other’s bodies.
He heard footsteps approaching.
Mary twisted the knob and opened the door.
Candles behind her flickered
like a halo above her head.
They stood, studying each other.
Mary sank her teeth into her bottom lip.
“Is everything okay?” He arched a brow.
“Okay?” Mary sighed. “Better than okay.”
“Going to invite me in, dude?”
“Right…” Mary shook her head and moved her long, dark bangs behind her ear. Then, taking a step back, she opened the door.
Hunter moved past the point of no return. Candles burned cherry.
The cracks popped over pine logs in the fireplace. Family pictures hung on the cream living room walls. The smiles question their authentic happiness.
No one could be that happy, Hunter thought.
Mary showed Hunter a sitting room with a cottage interior behind glass doors.
The maroon sofa had a comfy sectional.
“Those are my mother’s,” Mary said, pointing at the bookshelf, lest he think she was a book nerd.
“What books?” Hunter arched a brow.
“Something Raymond Carver or something.”
Hunter smiled.
“What?” Mary’s eyes shifted.
“They’re good books, aren’t they?”
“Oh,” Mary batted the question but answered, “ Yes, The Cathedral hit me deep.”
The closer they got to her room, the more the shyness thickened.
Mary played R. Kelly on the stereo. Your Body’s Callin’, to be specific.
R. Kelly made the song for lovemaking.
Hunter knew what that meant.
How could he not?
And Mary knew what that meant.
How could she not?
She was the one playing it.
Hunter followed Mary to the living room.
“Big house,” Hunter said, looking around.
“It is, isn’t it?” Mary stood with her hands in her back pockets.
Hunter saw her nipples through her sweater.
“No bra,” Mary said, winking.
Hunter’s eyes widened. “I wasn’t looking at…”
“Shh…” Mary placed a finger on his lips. “Admit it.”
His gaze softened. “Fine.” Hunter blushed. “But it wasn’t what you think.”
“Oh, but it is.” Mary removed her sweater.
“What are you doing?” Hunter said.
“Look,” she said.
Hunter lifted his palms and turned. “We’re not supposed to be doing…”
“Touch them,” Mary said. “Come on.”
Hunter closed his eyes, and Mary guided his shaky hands to the mercy of her smooth slopes.
“Open your eyes,” Mary said.
Hunter moved his head and observed the pale treasure he’d only seen in wet dreams.
He swallowed hard
because he knew they’d melt in his mouth.
“Not so bad, are they?” Mary winked.
Hunter softly massaged them.
Mary closed her eyes, bit her bottom lip, and moaned.
“Yes,” Mary said.
“Yes, what?”
She lifted the bottom of her breast. “Yes, you can taste them.”
“What makes you think I want to…” Hunter paused.
“I see you checking me out.”
“So.” Hunter shrugged. “A lot of guys check you out.”
“You’re the only one who gives me goosebumps when you undress me with your eyes.”
Hunter narrowed one eye and scratched the back of his neck. “You knew that I had a crush on you?”
“I wouldn’t use the word ‘crush.’” Mary paced, tapping her chin. “More like enamored.” She motioned to Hunter as though she’d solved a puzzle.
“Look, we’re not supposed to be in your bedroom.” Hunter gestured to the door. “And your bra should be on.”
Mary dropped her gaze as he grazed her. “And you shouldn’t be stiff.” She winked.
The blood drained from Hunter’s face, taking a hike to his heart. “So, I want you,” Hunter said with the whisper of an angel and a devil on his shoulders. “It’s not a crime.” Hunter looked around. “Mary?”
“Right here, love.” Mary rested her hands on her hips, wearing nothing.
“If we do this…”
“Clothes off, buddy.” Mary gave him a tight-lipped stare.
Hunter removed his shirt and shook off his jeans.
“There’s a hole in your—”
“Shut up,” Hunter said.
Mary laughed.
Hunter closed the distance between them.
Mary threw her arms around his neck.
Hunter’s lips touched hers before he thought
about pulling away.
Mary pressed her lips to his.
One kiss after the last wasn’t good enough,
so their lips spoke of their emotions.
Mary laid down a checkered fleece blanket on the pine floor.
Foreplay roamed into uncharted territories.
Mary moaned, and their hands trailed each other’s bodies.
“Stick it inside,” Mary said in a seductive tone.
“You sure?” Hunter said.
Mary closed her eyes and nodded.
Hunter pushed himself inside of her.
Mary grabbed a fistful of the blanket,
sank her nails over his back, and dragged them to his sides.
She moaned and grabbed his face with the motion of his thrusts.
Hunter kissed her neck and dragged his lower lip across her cheek.
“Mary?” Her mom knocked on her door. “You in there?”
Mary’s eyes grew to saucers.
Hunter laughed.
“What’s so funny?” She playfully punched him.
“I told Erika to come scare you.”
They laughed and made love until they fell asleep.
Ten years later, their picture hangs on her mother’s wall.
Now they know people can be that happy.