I just have to say this one thing while I’m sitting next to Coop in his car and we’re on our way to the Potholes, and I’m not sure how to say it, but I’m looking at Coop with the wind going through his hair, and through my hair, and there’s no music, just the sound of crickets and leaves and tires on the road, and he’s telling me to get off my phone, and I will but just let me write this, I just want you to remember this, Future Sam.
Coop is lying asleep next to me on a blanket on the ground.
We were lying next to each other, telling jokes, and when we ran out of jokes we were both sort of shaky and awkward, not like usual. The crickets were out. Frogs splashed in the water nearby. Coop he asked me if he could tell me something.
And I said yes.
I didn’t have to respond, he said, but he needed to tell me, especially with everything going on.
He scooted closer to me and I smelled strawberries. The frogs got louder. I burst out laughing because I was so nervous, and he asked, why was I laughing?
Because I’m nervous.
Why are you nervous?
Aren’t you nervous? I asked him.
Yes, but I know why I’m nervous. Why do you think I’m nervous?
I don’t know, I said, but I have an idea, because I might be nervous for the same reason.
Well, in that case, Coop said, and he hoisted himself to lean on his arm, looking over at me, and we were no longer just saying words into the sky. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times, and swallowed.
I have feelings for you, he said.
Oh yeah?
Not just a friendship feeling.
How weird it is that you have no idea what love is until it happens, and then you’re like that’s it, wow, there it is! It was there the whole time. Like a hidden image in one of those optical illusion books. When I took his hand. When he sat across from me in the ceramics studio, his eyes on me. When he and I were giants.
We don’t have to talk about it, he said. I just wanted to at least bring it up.
No I’m glad you did.
Coop swallowed again, and put his full hand on my cheek, then took it away. I wanted him to bring it back.
I think I have them, too, I told him.
When did that happen for you? he asked.
In the bedroom just now, I answered. When did that happen for you?
When I was twelve, he said.
And you still have them? I asked, and I moved closer to him.
I still have them, he answered.
And you have them for sure? he asked me.
I have them for sure, I answered.
I love you, Sammie, he said. I’ve loved you for a long time.
I love you, too.
And by now our lips were basically brushing against each other’s as the words came out of our mouths, and we were practically kissing, but when we did actually kiss it felt like I was drinking warm honey right to my gut, spilling out around me.
He put his hand on my stomach, right below my ribs and moved upward and I felt every millimeter and it was another time I wondered how the brain could work so well and move so slowly at the same time.
We shifted my body on top of his and my hair hung on his face, and he brushed it away, and I kissed his neck, and he rolled me on my back and kissed my neck, and then down on top of my shirt, to my waist, and then onto the skin between my shirt and my jeans, and he unbuttoned my jeans, and there was more, there was more.
As Coop was touching me it was like my muscles started climbing big steps, and I was breathing really fast and Coop asked if I was all right, if I wanted to keep going, and yes I wanted to keep going. All of a sudden I was at the top of the steps. I knew I was at the top because between my legs there was something I can only describe as a feeling as strong as pain but the exact opposite of pain, or maybe I could say that Coop’s fingers turned my body into a camera flash, hot and fast and bright, something you knew was coming but surprises you anyway.
After, in my mind, there was gratitude that I climbed with Coop, that I found who I was supposed to find, that what we did on the blanket was true and correct and just ours. Just me and Coop’s.
This is the story I will tell over and over.
I’m tired but only in my body.
I’m not tired anywhere else.