Page 161 of Happy Hour

“Me either,”

“Where are we going?” I asked when he pulled off Cloquallum onto a private dirt road.

“We are going to the first place I kissed you.”

I was quiet for a moment trying to recall the first time we kissed. There were a number of occasions growing up that Jameson had locked lips, back then it never led to anything, just kids being kids and experimenting.

“Where was that?”

Jameson’s hand rose to his heart. “I’m hurt you don’t remember.”

I watched curiously as we drove through Elma, wondering which time it was.

There was a few kisses that I distinctively remembered but I remembered my first French kiss most of all, because it was with him. We were thirteen; we had just spent the day swimming out at Summit Lake. Now I don’t even remember how it happened but we saw Spencer kissing his girlfriend at the time, so we decided to try it. I thought it was strange, wet, and sloppy.

When Jameson turned down his parent’s old driveway, I remembered instantly where our first kiss took place.

I hadn’t been there in a while, not for a couple years at least. They kept the house in Elma but his aunt Mary was living there now. The grass that was usually kept cut short during the summer, was now overgrown shadowing the long paved driveway. The tree we used to climb near the gates was still there, hanging across the creek as it always had.

No one appeared to be home so Jameson drove out back to the quarter-mile clay track where he learned to race and place we spent the majority of our summer breaks growing up.

“Now I remember.” I told him getting out of the truck.

We stopped by the water barrels we used as the flag stand back in the day when Jameson turned towards me.

“I was standing right here...we had met about a month before.” He smiled. “You were the trophy girl and of course, I won.”

I laughed, remembering the silly little games we used to play back here when he was home. Nothing mattered back then, but when you’re a kid,everythingmattered.

Little games were your entire life—the reason you got out of bed in the morning. A kiss wasn’t just a kiss back then, it was all you thought about because to you, thatwasyour world.

I learned quickly not to take everything to heart back then and I felt comfortable enough around Jameson that I couldjustkiss him and it not mean anything to either of us.

But I’d be lying if I didn’t say that it made my thirteen-year old world to have someone like him around—someone that I could bemearound.

That’s why I cherished my friendship with him so greatly—I could be me.

Jameson’s eyes focused on mine. The smells of summer surrounded blending with the rich scent of the clay from the track reminding me ofthosesummers out here.

Smiling up at him, I said, “You told me instead of the trophy, you wanted a kiss.”

He pulled me against his chest, his arms sliding around my waist. “I didn’t wait for you to answer me, I just kissed you.” His lips were about inch from mine. “I was afraid you wouldn’t let me.”

“I would have and Ididlet you.”

His lips twitched into a small smile. “Yes you did.”

Leaning forward, I captured his warm lips with my own.

He kissed me back and then pulled away. “I didn’t mean to freak you out at the restaurant. I meant it though.” He admitted. “Iwillmarry you, when you’re ready.”

“What if I said I was ready right now?”

“I would call Wes and have him fly us to Vegas.” He actually looked serious, which scared the shit out of me. “Let’s do it now.”

“You’re lying,”

“No I’m not,” his face grew solemn. “I mean that, Sway. I love you and I would marry you tonight if I had it my way, but I don’t thinkwe’reready for that.”

---