Death, Kissing and Summer
I'm pretty sure my seventh grade boyfriend was an albino. He had almost white blonde hair, really pale skin and pale blue eyes. He wore a tux t-shirt to the 8th grade banquet (instead of a real tux rented from Mr. Burch or Tant & Tant) and he died in a car accident with his grandfather when we were in 10th grade. I hadn't spoken to him in a couple of years. We weren't friendly after the break-up and he was a strange dude besides. He was sweet and attractive but seemed unusually tortured for a 13-year-old.
His cousin Travis on the otherhand was incredibly hot and had this blinking facial tick that was more adorable than disturbing. He would blink his eyes very slowly and intensely and he would look at you while doing this, as though he were trying to really see you for the first time, then he would smile nervously. The summer between 7th and 8th grade, my best friend Heather was "going with" Travis and I was going with Kevin (the possible albino who is definitely dead). Our favorite thing to do was sit in my downstairs den with the lights off (there were no windows so it was pitch black) and kiss. At one point during the summer, Heather and I realized that we were more interested in the others' boyfriend, so one day we casually suggested we swap...and it was so.
Travis was one of those boys you don't forget. He was the first guy I knew who could accurately be described as a good kisser. He wasn't in a rush or distracted or going for more than I was interested in giving. He was completely content and absorbed with kissing, without an ounce of the thrill-of-the-conquest bravado that defined most teenage boys I knew. Ironically, his pale cousin was a much darker soul. Every kiss from him felt like a quiet acknowledgement that someday I would break his heart. He kissed intensely, but begrudgingly and without trust. Plus, his mouth was cold...which I hated. Heather didn't seem to mind. She preferred Kevin's anger and humiliation to Travis' selflessness and whimsy. Kevin's favorite song was "Love Bites" by Def Leppard, Travis' was "The Gambler."
Kevin I broke up at the beginning of 8th grade and Heather and Travis broke up a short while later. Kevin hated me and claimed that I was a cold bitch who never loved him, so none of us spoke to each other again. My only regret was that because they were so close I couldn't see Travis anymore. I wouldn't be kissed like that again until I was nursing a broken heart myself in Panama City at age 17 (his name was Adam, he was from Murfreesboro, he had green eyes, drank Pepe Lopez tequila and kissed like the tide would never come in).
Later during our 8th grade year, I overheard in the lunchroom a classmate talking about how Travis had just saved someone's life. Apparently, they were playing basketball and the other student had been chewing gum and got it lodged in his throat. No one in the immediate vicinity knew how to perform the Heimlich Maneuver, so Travis just put his hand down the guy's throat and yanked the gum out. I think that was the first moment I felt like I understood what a man was supposed to be. A man is prepared to do what has to be done, even if he doesn't know the right way to do it.
The problem is that so many of us think there's no time to figure out the right way to do what has to be done. That's why we so often mistake any action for decisive action. But this boy Travis knew the difference. When he was in a situation where a friend could be dead within a few minutes if he didn't do something, anything, he acted as best he could...and he got lucky. When he was with a girl, in a dark room in the middle of the summer with nothing to do but kiss her, he took his time and did it right.
The last time I saw Travis, Kevin had just died. He no longer blinked the way he used to, he'd grown out of it. His eyes were heavy and sad and on the verge of tears. He was sitting on the bumper of a car wearing an army jacket, and since I didn't know what to say to him, I quietly wondered whether it was his dad's jacket or his uncle's. I never asked. I felt his breath on my neck when I hugged him goodbye. It had just rained, it was summer, and I could smell the grass at the edge of the parking lot as it mixed with the faint aroma of Camel regulars on the inside of his collar.
And I felt guilty for breaking Kevin's heart.
His cousin Travis on the otherhand was incredibly hot and had this blinking facial tick that was more adorable than disturbing. He would blink his eyes very slowly and intensely and he would look at you while doing this, as though he were trying to really see you for the first time, then he would smile nervously. The summer between 7th and 8th grade, my best friend Heather was "going with" Travis and I was going with Kevin (the possible albino who is definitely dead). Our favorite thing to do was sit in my downstairs den with the lights off (there were no windows so it was pitch black) and kiss. At one point during the summer, Heather and I realized that we were more interested in the others' boyfriend, so one day we casually suggested we swap...and it was so.
Travis was one of those boys you don't forget. He was the first guy I knew who could accurately be described as a good kisser. He wasn't in a rush or distracted or going for more than I was interested in giving. He was completely content and absorbed with kissing, without an ounce of the thrill-of-the-conquest bravado that defined most teenage boys I knew. Ironically, his pale cousin was a much darker soul. Every kiss from him felt like a quiet acknowledgement that someday I would break his heart. He kissed intensely, but begrudgingly and without trust. Plus, his mouth was cold...which I hated. Heather didn't seem to mind. She preferred Kevin's anger and humiliation to Travis' selflessness and whimsy. Kevin's favorite song was "Love Bites" by Def Leppard, Travis' was "The Gambler."
Kevin I broke up at the beginning of 8th grade and Heather and Travis broke up a short while later. Kevin hated me and claimed that I was a cold bitch who never loved him, so none of us spoke to each other again. My only regret was that because they were so close I couldn't see Travis anymore. I wouldn't be kissed like that again until I was nursing a broken heart myself in Panama City at age 17 (his name was Adam, he was from Murfreesboro, he had green eyes, drank Pepe Lopez tequila and kissed like the tide would never come in).
Later during our 8th grade year, I overheard in the lunchroom a classmate talking about how Travis had just saved someone's life. Apparently, they were playing basketball and the other student had been chewing gum and got it lodged in his throat. No one in the immediate vicinity knew how to perform the Heimlich Maneuver, so Travis just put his hand down the guy's throat and yanked the gum out. I think that was the first moment I felt like I understood what a man was supposed to be. A man is prepared to do what has to be done, even if he doesn't know the right way to do it.
The problem is that so many of us think there's no time to figure out the right way to do what has to be done. That's why we so often mistake any action for decisive action. But this boy Travis knew the difference. When he was in a situation where a friend could be dead within a few minutes if he didn't do something, anything, he acted as best he could...and he got lucky. When he was with a girl, in a dark room in the middle of the summer with nothing to do but kiss her, he took his time and did it right.
The last time I saw Travis, Kevin had just died. He no longer blinked the way he used to, he'd grown out of it. His eyes were heavy and sad and on the verge of tears. He was sitting on the bumper of a car wearing an army jacket, and since I didn't know what to say to him, I quietly wondered whether it was his dad's jacket or his uncle's. I never asked. I felt his breath on my neck when I hugged him goodbye. It had just rained, it was summer, and I could smell the grass at the edge of the parking lot as it mixed with the faint aroma of Camel regulars on the inside of his collar.
And I felt guilty for breaking Kevin's heart.
posted by Carol at 2:29 PM
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