It was March in Seattle.
The mirage-stalked moon
hid in plain sight.
An army of stars poked
through obscure clouds.
I spotted the open sign
at Erickson’s Bar & Grill.
It was a new log cabin
converted into a bar
that Holly wanted to try.
I pulled into a parking lot
with bright lights
and smooth pavement,
which guided me to a newly
painted parking spot.
I intended to do to her what she did to me
to trip her head over heels in love with me.
I wanted to flutter her stomach with butterflies
that would only leave when she called my name.
But Holly dialed back her views on love
as for someone other than herself.
Holly wanted attention
but felt love had passed her
by among our friends.
She didn’t know that the love
she thought was a fairytale was right before her.
Before the night is over, I’ll tell her I love her.
We’d been friends since high school.
I had to watch my sister play a volleyball game.
And there Holly was.
I didn’t watch volleyball, not until that day.
Holly served the ball in her tight black shorts.
When Holly spiked the ball, her shorts hiked.
When I fell that fall, I bit the inside of my cheek raw,
and Holly’s team won all their games.
We became friends when she needed a tutor for math.
I visited her house, specifically her room.
Holly blared Smashing Pumpkins.
But my ears rang Keith Sweat’s Twisted on repeat.
I pushed through the oak door
with glass etched into the upper half.
I turned my head
and moved my eyes around.
Holly raised her arm, hollered,
and motioned me over with her hand.
The crowd thickened within minutes.
I joined Holly and our friends
after work at a bar and grill.
I mazed through drunks,
who clanked mugs together.
I sat at our oak table.
Explicit hip-hop played
through the speakers.
Holly slammed three shots
of whisky and slammed the glass
that vibrated the table.
“God damn!” Holly pumped her fists. “That burns!”
I grinned and sipped
foam and beer from my mug.
Strobe lights cycled through an array of colors.
A ceiling fan ticked above the DJ
as he turned the tables.
People danced on the marble dance floor.
I approached the bar and ordered
a mug of Redhook.
Women smoking cigarettes
cast a haze that burned in my eyes.
People chatted and told lies
about themselves to their friends.
“Hey,” a voice whispered in my ear.
I struggled to turn around.
“Holly,” I said. “How’ve you been doing?”
“Been better.” Holly reached for my mug and brought it to her lips.
Holly’s red lipstick smudged the glass. “Where are my manners?” she said, returning the mug.
Before I wondered whether it was weird, I sipped from the same place.
“So, you’ve been better?” I shrugged, giving her an engaging glance. “How so?” I took another sip.
“You know how you helped me pass math in high school?”
Oh, great—this dummy wants me to help her through college, I thought.
Holly caught the tension in my eyes. “Don’t worry,” she said. “It’s not what you think.”
“What then?” We spoke close enough to kiss,
and even then, the music thumped.
“I’ve always liked you.” Holly took and finished my Redhook.
“Probably a good thing,” I said. “I don’t drink much, anyway.” I smiled.
Holly eyed me.
“One plus one is two,” Holly said, using her fingers. “But what’s you and I?”
“Are you hitting on me?”
“I love you, Aaron.”
Holly’s glassy eyes served as a serenade to my court.
I cupped her cheek with one hand and kissed her. “I’ve loved you for a long time.”
“Your sister showed me your journal entries.” Holly bit her bottom lip.
“Why didn’t you tell me about my journals?” I said.
“Because I was having these wet dreams and masturbating to them.”
“That was a little much.” Heat spread across my cheeks.
“I know you jerked off to my volleyball pictures.”
“But that…” I raised a defensive finger.
“It’s okay.” Holly’s grip and dark green eyes erased my vulnerability.
The passion in her smile led us to kiss like no one was watching. Our friends cheered, Finally.
The game we both won was ours.