It was August, but I wore my mother’s Soul Asylum hoodie because I get cold easily. It was 4AM but a dark 4AM, and you were in a sleek cocktail dress. You were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, my breath caught and when I fell, you caught me. You asked me what I was doing, then said you didn’t care. I asked if you had any friends to walk you home, and with lidded eyes you said no. I turned to leave but you demanded my phone number instead.
It was a whirlwind romance: you pulled me into dark alleyways, taught me to swing dance, liked to ply me with alcohol. You gave me the same feeling of seeing my mother reaching for another pack of cigarettes, twirled and twisted and furled me, but I stayed for the apology.
One night, I was in my mother’s Soul Asylum hoodie, laying in our bed as you played with the strings. I love you, you said. It was a fact, like smog in LA, and I tried not to shiver as you nestled your head in the crook of my neck.
Another night, you plied and accused me of cheating. It was only after I was sobbing that you smiled and said I know, I know you’d never cheat. Then you pulled me up for a Jive and when we were done, we laid down on the floor. You apologized, said you loved me.
One August later you interrupted our Lindy Hop to pull the hoodie strings taut and asked for the first time if I loved you. I was cold. I fell, but you caught me again, and before I could answer you kissed me. When you were done you bit down on the hoodie strings until the aglets broke. I could barely feel my hands as I pulled the strings out, but you didn’t let me throw them away. Instead you tied them around my hand, covering the cut across my palm, and proposed. I said
yes, as usual.
ABOUT:
Sean MacPhee is a senior creative writing major at Susquehanna University, also pursuing a minor in film studies. His short story, “The Man in The Leather Coat” received a silver key in the Scholastic Art and Writing Competition, as did a piece of visual art, “Growth”, which was also been accepted to be published in the Porter House Review; His poem, “Night 32”, was published by the WILDsound Writing Festival, and another poem, “On Being the Ex-Boyfriend” will be part of the Poets Choice upcoming book “Poems on Being Dumped”; He was a finalist in the Comstock Review Chapbook Contest. He intends to become a novelist and change the face of the world—or, at least, to give readers food for thought. And, in the process, get himself a silken windhound.
EDITOR'S SONG PAIRING: Rance Riley -- You Caught Me In Your Stare
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