Just the Right Touch

Photo credit: Robsalot (that's me!)

Erin had a tree house in her way-backyard. Well it wasn’t really a tree house because it was missing two very important defining factors. First, it wasn’t in a tree, though it certainly was as tall as one; and second, it wasn’t really a house, just a plywood platform perched on two-by-fours with an aluminum ladder running up to a hole in the center. Still, we called it our tree house, and we could be found there nearly every afternoon, once we had been released from the daily torture that was the 7^th grade.  

As soon as the bell rang Erin and I slung our backpacks over our right shoulders (it didn’t matter how heavy they were, or how it tweaked our backs, wearing them any other way would cause us to be immediately ostracized), then, despite the magnitude of the things we so urgently needed to discuss, we walked slowly towards Erin’s house (everyone knew 7^th graders didn’t run, it wasn’t cool to run, only elementary school kids ran).

Once we were safely through Erin’s gate we sprinted across the grass, flung our bags over the fence, and squeezed through a crack into the way-backyard, which was just a forgotten strip of land between two housing additions, where the tree house was located. Finally alone we clambered up the ladder and sat cross-legged facing each other on the plywood platform that overlooked the neighborhood.

“Okay,” Erin exclaimed breathlessly, “so you have to tell me exactly what he said.”

“Shh,” I admonished, “Don’t let the whole neighborhood to hear!”

“Sorry,” Erin whispered.

“Okay,” I was trying hard keep my own excited voice to a whisper, “I saw him in the hallway between 4^th and 5^th periods, and I just, like, handed him the note, I didn’t even say anything, and then when I walked out of class after 5^th he was there, waiting…”

“Oh my god,” Erin interrupted.

“…and he handed me the note back!”

“WHAT WAS HIS REPLY?!”

“YES!” I squealed yanking a triangular sheet of notebook paper out of my pocket, “He said he would go with me!”

I was so nervous, my very first middle school dance, and I was going with a boy. A cute boy who just transferred into the school. That was probably why he had agreed to go with me, he wasn’t aware that being seen with Erin or me was social suicide. Oh god, what if someone told him, I thought as I entered the gymnasium, but then there he was, smiling at me, looking a bit uncomfortable in a plaid button up shirt. As I approached he extended his arm out to me, and I placed my hand softly in his. My palm was sweaty, that much I was acutely aware of, but then his fingers grazed the back of my hand and suddenly I felt something new bubble up from deep inside me, awoken by the electricity in his touch, and just for a moment all of my insecurities disappeared.