“Our block” covered about a quarter of a square mile in Joey’s neighborhood. We called it “our block” because one Sunday night we spent what seemed like hours driving around it again and again... and again.
Joey asked me for a ride home from church that night. I found his request a tad bit suspicious since I knew he already had a ride lined up from his good friend Charles. Nevertheless, he wanted me to take him home that night, so I happily obliged. We hopped in my 1980 green Honda Accord, which I had appropriately named “Kermit.” We talked on the drive, but not really about anything earth-shattering.
We pulled into his neighborhood. Before we arrived at his house, he said “hey, turn here.” I did. I made it to the end of that first block before he broke the silence.
“So it’s May. That means it’s been almost exactly a year since our first “date” to that senior banquet.” We talked about that first date for a while. The awkwardness of riding with April and her date. The food. That hug. He revealed to me that it was that hug and the look in my eyes afterward that affirmed to him that I shared the feelings he had for me.
Then he said, “Kelly, do you have any idea how long I’ve liked you?” I didn’t. He went on to tell me about how he remembered liking me even when we were little. He remembered how I always smiled and squinted a little bit when I smiled.
Then he told me about trying to switch lockers with Brad in seventh grade because he wanted to have the locker next to mine. He told me about that night at the winter retreat when he spent so long talking to my friend Erin out on the balcony. How every story they recalled that night dealt with me and how he went back inside to look for me. He was determined to express his feelings for me that night, but he chickened out.
I chimed in with my side of the story. All this time, we are circling the block over and over in my little green Honda. It was fun re-living our story. We drove on. Around the block again. Then again.
“Kelly, I just want to keep this going forever.”
“You mean driving in circles? Because eventually I am going to run out of gas.” I knew what he meant, but I joked anyway.
“Us.”
“Me too.” I liked us.
More driving. We talked about other couples who dated in high school and eventually got married. We knew it was possible. But we were only sophomores. Nearly juniors, but not quite. We had a long way to go. Should we date other people? Neither of us liked this idea, but we agreed that we would give each other permission should there ever be interest in that sort of thing.
Silence.
About the thirty-eighth time around the block, I broke the seriousness by pointing out a driveway decoration at one house that I swore looked like Tick-Tock form Return to Oz. It was just a planter on the side of some guy’s driveway, but it weirded me out every time we drove past. Joey agreed it looked like Tick-Tock. We also agreed together that Return to Oz was a whack movie. Rather freaky. Of course, two sixteen year olds venturing to talk about serious things like marriage had a bit of its own freakiness as well.
But we liked it. Things were out in the open. We knew where we wanted this to go someday.
After more taking, I finally pulled into Joey’s driveway. It was late, after all.
“Can I shake your hand?” I laughed at the oddity of Joey’s question, but held out my hand. He didn’t shake it. He took it with both his hands and held tight. His words were so tender. I cried a few happy tears as we ended the evening. Then we hugged. We’d never hugged like this before. It was like...oh, I don’t know what it was like. But I liked it.
