How was your first day? I hope everything went well, and your professors aren’t too crazy (yet).
So I’m back in business! It felt really good to be in school again…but I can tell that I’m a little behind on what I should know (It’s been a LONG time since I’ve taken this stuff). But I think I’ve dusted out the cobwebs enough to get on track soon. Today was really fun, though.
See you soon,
Liam
P.S. Yeah, my feet hurt a little too (wrong shoes). Just look out, though, ‘cause next time we’ll be ready (muah-ha-ha-ha…)
Liam sure knew how to make a girl smile.
24
The rest of the week crawled by. Each time I walked around campus I’d think of him, look out for him, and wish he were there. I’d think I saw him by the tree, locking his bike on the nearby rack. Or by the coffee stand, fueling up for another grueling day in Peterson Hall. Each time being a random guy who was clueless to the fact that a second later I could have made a fool of myself.
It all felt too weird, surreal even. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, wishing he’d call me, asking to see me. Every time I saw a couple walk by I thought of him. I felt pitiful. I finally felt myself seeing him as more than a friend, which was scary and exciting, but also very confusing.
25
Hooray! It was Friday night and Liam asked me to the movies. We headed toward Fashion Valley to watch Tristan and Isolde, another romantic love story.
The theater was filled with teenage girls, giggling every time James Franco filled the screen. The story was lovely, another version of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, but the physical scenes put me on edge—I could feel Liam’s hand tense around mine (we always held hands now, our hands attracted to each other like magnets)—so much so that I was relieved when the movie ended.
Liam was quiet on the way out. We headed toward his Volvo in silence. Mumbling a few words and comments about how good the movie was, and so on.
We were heading back toward my place when he asked, “Do you want to call it a night or do you feel like doing something else?” His question was filled with hope, hoping that I would choose the latter.
“I’d like to do something else.”
“Great.” He grinned. There was meaning behind that grin, but I was too happy to notice.
“So what do you want to do?”
“Hmmm…well I have an idea.”
A few moments later I realized we were headed toward the bay. He parked in a remote lot at the southern end of Mission Beach. Darkness filled the night sky as we headed toward the sand with the blanket he always kept folded neatly beneath the back window of his Volvo. The air was cold and the gust nipped my face. Liam seemed to be calm as he held my hand with his. I was curious, but it felt nice just to be with him so I didn’t pry. I just watched as he stopped next to a simmering bond fire—most likely cast by a group of teens enjoying the warmth as they roasted marshmallows on a stick and washed them down with smuggled adult beverages. He unfurled the thick blanket, which was made of wool and woven with the intricate patterns and colors reminiscent of Mexico. I wondered if he purchased this item from Old Town, as I flashed back to the vivid colors, textures, patterns, aromas, and flavors of our date there.
We sat silently on the blanket for some time, huddled by the scarce fire, watching as gray clouds blanketed the blackened sky, graced by the moon and stars in subtle, cottony openings. The waves crashing on the shore before us, continually moving, continually breaking, increasing in strength and stamina as the tide flowed in.
Lost in observation, I suddenly felt his breath on the nape of my neck. Felt his full lips brush gently against my cheek. Felt him move closer, his breath hot and filled with desire. He mumbled a few words but I couldn’t hear him against the breaking waves.
He mumbled again, this time a little more urgently, each word stressed by his intensity, “I want to kiss you right now.”
I heard the words and froze. Uh-oh, I thought.
And as I turned toward him I knew it was too late. Too late to react. Too late to second guess. Too late to stop him.
His lips darted toward mine. His kiss was slow at first, soft and gentle, as if he was being careful not to break me. His slow kiss turned into soft pecks…pecking my lips, my cheeks, my hair, my neck, always coming back to my no-longer-virgin lips.
His breath heavy and his pulse quickening. He moved closer now, his lips parting mine…caressing them with the tip of his tongue…lingering…roaming…slow, soft, and sensual. Constantly moving as if he was using his tongue to navigate through the darkness.
Then the kiss became more vigorous, as the waves breaking against the sand, his lips pressed against mine with such force my mind went blank. I could feel his uncontrollable lust and desire as he crushed his mouth to mine, numbing my lips with the pressure. Soft moans escaped from his lips as he moved even closer.
With one cold hand, he swiftly guided me backward toward the thick blanket. The sand felt hard against my back. The light from the dying fire flickering against the night sky. With one hand supporting me he tangled the other in my right hand. Stopping momentarily—his breath ragged and hungry—to whisper, “I knew that once I kissed you I wouldn’t be able to stop…I wanted to kiss you for so long.” And then he continued to do so.
I felt his kisses, each kiss making my body tingle in response. I tried to let go and respond to his movements but I just lay there stiff, stunned, and scared. Looking up I counted the stars, watched as the moon glimmered, quietly masked by the graying clouds.
I never told him to stop. I allowed him to continue, to take as much as he pleased. Worrying about how much he would end up taking.
He would sometimes come up for air and whisper, “Are you okay?” It was like he knew that this intimate act frightened me but was still unwilling to pull in the reins. And all I could muster was a faint, “Yes.”
As the fire died so did his lips. His kisses lessened and when he was finished, he hesitated, his body quivered from the cold. His eyes were filled with excitement, caution, and nervous understanding. I could tell it was everything he dreamed and hoped for, but for me I felt dazed and stunned. The intense passion took me by surprise. My lips felt swollen and numb as if I had just received a shot of Novocain. When we reached my front door, my lips still tingled.
26
That night I couldn’t sleep. I touched my lips in the morning and they ached. I had no idea that kissing would hurt. I turned on my computer and checked my Inbox. Liam sent me a message. That was quick. I hesitated before opening it:
January 15, 2006 9:34 AM
Subject: Good Morning :)
Body:
Hi Sophie,
Good morning to you!
Liam
P.S. I made a “modification” to my profile…you may find it interesting ;) (wink, wink, nudge, nudge)
My pulse quickened. Modification? I tricked myself into not believing what I already knew to be true. Updating his profile could only mean one thing. At that moment my eyes saw what my brain already knew…his status changed from Single to In a Relationship. I felt numb once again, lost, confused, nervous, scared; I just had a rush of confusing and compounding feelings.
I’d read about this, watched it in movies, seen my friends go through it…but I’d never experienced it…no basis to go by…I didn’t know what to do…how to do it…so here I was, having everything I ever dreamed of wanting offered to me on a gold platter…and how did I feel? Numb.
Me, feeling numb? Me, a girl who “feels” things constantly, a girl who is so emotional she cries at the drop of a hat, and now I feel nothing?
I never heard of a girl feeling nothing when she was about to start a relationship, especially after experiencing a night like last night.
In his next message, he explained the modification:
January 16, 2006 11:19 AM
Subject: RE: RE: Good Morning :)
Body:
Hi Sophie,
(
…)So, about the profile change. Well, yeah, I was thinking that I really like you, and I want you to know that I’d like to be your boyfriend. That is, if you’d like to be my girlfriend. I mean, there doesn’t have to be a “definitive point” in which we are “now officially together”, but I want you to know that I’ve found what I’m looking for in you. I’m more of the school of thought that relationships evolve incrementally, and don’t need to be forced or rushed. Me, changing my profile, is just a way of communicating to you that I would be honored (and happy!) to continue seeing you, and to have the chance to enrich your life in every way I am able…I guess I’d rather see you in person to explain this further. But, for now, just know that I like you A LOT! :)
-Liam
27
The week that followed flowed by easily. Liam and I started meeting up between classes; we would study together in the gray, spaceship-like building known as Geisel Library, and he walked me to class if time permitted. We were starting to become inseparable.
We even started talking via instant messenger each night and every moment we were apart. We learned a lot more about each other using this means of communication; we were so often planted in front of a computer, and relished the study breaks:
Itchy Bonsai (6:14:32 PM): how are you doing over there?
Pinkie16 (6:14:51 PM): do’n okay
Itchy Bonsai (6:15:06 PM): awesome! (just checking in, since you popped in my head)
Pinkie16 (6:16:05 PM): awww u think’n of me?
Itchy Bonsai (6:16:19 PM): I sure am…only always, GOSH! Haha
Pinkie16 (6:15:52 PM): haha k…don’t lie now
Itchy Bonsai (6:17:10 PM): okay, well I do sleep sometimes
Itchy Bonsai (6:40:02 PM): have you seen the movie “Amelie”?
Pinkie16 (6:40:16 PM): nope
Itchy Bonsai (6:41:21 PM): oh, okay…because I was thinking of things to do on Saturday, and I thought maybe we could watch a movie over at my house. I think you would like that one.
Pinkie16 (6:41:57 PM): I heard it was a good movie
Itchy Bonsai (6:42:05 PM): It’s in French (subtitles), but it’s cute as long as you don’t mind subtitles
Pinkie16 (6:42:30 PM): no, I don’t mind them
Itchy Bonsai (6:43:28 PM): good…oh yeah, and you still haven’t been down to India Street!
Pinkie16 (6:43:53 PM): wut’s india street?
Itchy Bonsai (6:44:07 PM): It’s “Little Italy” in SD with all sorts of delicious restaurants
Pinkie (6:44:23 PM): Mmmm
The next day I received a message from Liam. We weren’t sending messages to each other as often since we started talking more through online chat, so this was a nice surprise:
January 20, 2006 5:00 PM
Subject: Just Because
Body:
Hi Sophie,
I haven’t checked MySpace in a while, so I thought I’d send you a message “just because.” :)
You know, I also wanted to tell you that you are a very thoughtful person; you are as kind as you are beautiful (I really mean that). When I get your text messages, or see you, or think about seeing you, it just makes me feel so calm and happy inside. (Okay, I’ll stop before your ego gets too big…haha). But really, Sophie…you are a wonderful person and I appreciate it SO much.
I look forward to seeing you tomorrow!
Liam
My heart fluttered in response to his honest and heartfelt words—any girl would be crazy not to be affected by them—but, I was petrified. I thought back to that night on the beach. I felt his heart throbbing with raw emotion, an uncontrollable hunger surging through him, and I felt his need for more. More than I felt capable of giving him.
28
Little Italy was a charming neighborhood along India Street, near the heart of downtown San Diego. The street was lined with Italian restaurants, cafés, bars, shops, and apartments. Colorful awnings, hanging flower baskets, potted plants, strings of lights, historic lamp posts, dogs being walked, people laughing and chatting, smells of tomato sauce, garlic, oregano, and freshly-baked bread wafted in the wind.
The line for Filippi’s Pizza Grotto was long but moved steadily along. Wrapped in my thick jacket, I shivered amidst the cold January night air, my stomach grumbling as it anticipated the delicious Italian cuisine. We neared the entrance, watching customers leave in overwhelming satisfaction (and guilt) as they lugged their leftovers happily along with them.
Inside now, the cold at our backs, we squeezed closer together down the narrow pathway, through the market—shelved with cans of tomato paste, sauce, anchovies, olives, olive oil, wine, handmade noodles and gnocchi, cookies, candy, meats, cheeses, and bread. The obtrusive, fishy odor of salt-cured baccalà overpowered our senses as we entered, even before we could make out the open barrels of dried and salted fish fillets in the far corner. For a moment we were in Italy, and I took it all in.
“This is wonderful,” I exclaimed, marveling the cluttered yet clearly structured store. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
Liam grinned, “I’m glad I brought you here.”
“Me too.” I was so absorbed in my surroundings, I fell behind as the line continued moving forward.
The people behind us were slightly annoyed—clearly hungry and impatient—as Liam gave me a slight nudge to help ease the tension that was forming.
“Oops.”
Liam suddenly pulled me closer. I turned and it seemed this time I had been blocking the path to the exit—a large Italian family was about to stampede through me, and filed past with slight annoyance, tempered by satiety.
“It’s a little crowded in here.”
“Yeah, it’s always this busy.” Liam continued to hold his grip on me so I wasn’t more than an inch away. His hands were strong and ice cold. I shivered.
“Are you cold?”
“No,” he replied, “I’m actually warm now that we’re inside. Why, are you?”
“No I’m fine…it’s just, well, your hands are like ice.”
“Really?” He put his hands to his cheek. “Oh, you’re right. I haven’t noticed.”
“Table for two?”
I turned, to find a middle-aged lady with a hard face, stocky build, and careworn eyes impatiently waiting for us.
“Yes,” Liam answered.
“Follow me.” She turned and briskly walked, heavily on her right leg, toward a side table. We sat down across from each other on lacquered wooden chairs with vinyl seat cushions. The square table was covered with a red and white checkered cloth. A candle flickered in the center of the table from within a bulbous jar. The hostess handed us each a large laminated menu and left. Her hard presence left me slightly perturbed.
The menu was simple in its bold red headings and easy-to-follow structure, but complex in its newness.
“The pizza is really good here,” Liam said. He must’ve heard my soft sigh as I scanned the menu, I thought. He recognized my hesitation, noticing my little inflections when I couldn’t make a decision.
“Really? Hmmm, how big is it?”
“They only have one size, medium, so if you’d like we can split a pizza.”
“Okay.” I looked back at the pizza section of the menu and frowned. “Which one should we get?”
“Well, I’m partial to the Vegetarian, but we can get something else if you’d like.”
“No, the Vegetarian sounds good.” I was just relieved I didn’t have to sit and painstakingly try to choose between all the delicious toppings.
“Would you like anything to drink besides water?”
I glanced at the price for the Vegetarian pizza and answered, “No, I’m fine with just the water.” I wanted a diet coke but I didn’t want Liam to pay for it.
He looked at me questioningly, but didn’t push it.
He decided we should get the half carafe of Chianti to share.
After he placed our order, we sat, drowning out the chaos around us—drunken laughter, slurps of pasta, babies crying
, and our stomachs grumbling—with our own chatter. My hands were comfortably folded on the table when he carefully reached over, enveloping one of my hands in his. There our hands stayed until our bubbling pizza arrived.
My mouth watered as Liam cut the pieces and placed one large slice on my plate. The cheese was slightly browned and the crust crackled underneath, indicating a perfectly cooked pizza. I doused it in red pepper flakes and used a knife and fork to cut into the thick-crust pizza topped with bell peppers, onions, black olives, mushrooms, and oozing with cheese that bubbled from the intense heat of the wood fired oven. Each bite filled my mouth with intense flavor, calming my nerves, and filling my stomach with satisfaction.
Liam’s mouth curved into a wide and satisfied grin as he happily watched my growing enjoyment with each bite.
“I love to watch you eat.”
“Huh?” Liam caught me mid-bite. “Oh,” I said as I realized how absorbed I was in my meal.
Sophie's Smile: A Novel Page 12
