Movie Moment

“I’ve always liked you.”

Small confessions made easy by the tonic and Tanqueray.

“I’ve always liked you too,” he countered, one eye on the band, the other on me.

“No. I mean like-like you.” I hold my fingers an inch apart. “The tiniest of crushes.”

Snagging his attention, he turns to me, his eyes startled round.

“I have a girlfriend. You can’t say that to me.”

Small smile. Tanqueray brave.

“Just words. And the truth. Truthful words.” I turn away and find my friends.

Lost in a sea of stomping feet and thrumming bodies, we worship the band like gods.

My friends and I laugh. Ladies night. No men. No rules. What happens henceforth shall never be spoken.

Small crush moves toward me. Leaving for the night. Maybe he’s Tanqueray brave too.

The crowd parts as if it senses something is about to happen.

I turn to say my goodbye when he pulls me close.

Before I know it, his lips are on mine.

Soft.

Warm.

Perfect.

He slips his arm around my waist, leaving no room for Jesus.

Jesus can get his own room.

His hand is in my hair.

Tingles rush down my spine and flip in my belly like a leaf tumbling in the wind.

It’s a kiss reserved for Rom Coms. Romance novels. Lovers back from the war.

Center stage. Background set to black. A single spotlight. Just us two.

How long we stand melded is unclear, oblivious to the onlookers.

He releases me. Eyes lock. Oceans unspoken surge between us. Turning, he disappears into the night.

Occasionally, I dust off the memory and wear it like a smile, dimming the drone of the mundane.

Dishes plied in sinks. Side eying laundry, forgotten, unfolded. Grocery lists growing longer.

Take a moment.

20 again.

Flirting with the band.

Tonics and gin.

My movie moment.