so highschool

I pulled up to "my" parking spot under my house and a car was parked in the road right next to it. A pair of fringed moccasin boots were swaying back and forth being held up by the arms of the boy whose legs they were wrapped around. Grrreeaaat. Perfect. I slowed down and stopped just as the girls head peeked around the boys shoulders. Then the boy's head turned. I pointed to the spot next to their car. He turned around for a second, still holding this girl's legs, then turned back to me and shrugged, insinuating that there were other places for me to park. So I politely, (with raised eyebrows) pointed to the spot and then pointed up at my house as I mouthed, "I live here." Finishing the sentence in my mind with, "so fucking move asshole."

Ahhh.

As he dropped her legs and she dismounted off the car, I started to think about the days when I would sneak away with a boy so we could stare at each other, with my legs coyly wrapped around him, smiling and teasing. What happened to that kind of intimacy, then called "flirting". You couldn't just have sex, so you had to have sex with your minds and in your eyes and hair and fingers and knees and the sides of your toes. Sex was everywhere outside of your clothes. It was on the back of someone's car wearing his hoodie, your best jeans and a pair of moccasin boots. Sex was a cluster of fear in the back of your brain but power in the corners of your lips.

You also had to do it wherever you could find a place to do it, so you no matter how bad it was, it was good if you could get it. I suppose when it becomes more convenient to have sex, you can afford to be a bit pickier about the actual act as opposed to what is leading up to it.

When their car pulled away and I rolled into my spot, I was a little bummed to not have that in my life, yet. I grabbed my dry cleaning and other things to schlep up the crumpled steps to my single person house. When I reached the top, I looked over the city and smiled. The sun was shining.