My Secret Love: 100 Kisses
It is the day of tryouts. Abby and I are eating lunch together.
“Are you nervous about tryouts?” I asked.
“Sort of, but my cousin, who cheered last year, has shown me all the routines and cheers. I just need to execute the moves and remember the chants. I will have an excellent chance to make the team.” She replies.
“What about you? You are going against bigger, stronger guys than in middle school.”
“I have done every drill a thousand times. I’ve played street ball against all the players on the team. If I play to my capabilities, I will make the team.”
“Wouldn’t it be outstanding if two freshmen made the varsity basketball and cheerleading squad?” Abby said.
“Yes, I expect nothing less but on another note. I want to. No, I need to see you away from school. Do you realize we haven’t kissed?”
“I am painfully aware. How do you propose we see each other since neither of us drives?”
“If you spend the night with your granny, I could walk to her house. Better yet, I will ride my bike there after she falls asleep. She lives right off of Main Street.”
“That’s why I love you. You are so smart.”
“It’s your job to come up with a good excuse to stay at your granny’s. I will meet you in her driveway at 11 p.m.”
“If I don’t see you, then I will turn around and go home heart broken. Left only to dream about offering you 100 kisses,” I say with a playful pout.
Abby places her hands on top of mine.
“I will be there for all one hundred.”
The only kiss my hilltopper honey and I share in public are air kisses. She would discreetly blow me a kiss.
I would catch it and place it in my heart. I would blow her a kiss and she would catch it and place it in her heart.
We couldn’t hold hands or offer a loving stare. Our love is a victim of the era of racists thinking in Small Town Friendly.
The time arrives. I speed to her Granny’s, take the right off the ball field road to her house. I stop just short, get my breathing together, walk my bike…