Written in June 2008.
1.
The first time you came to my house, and we were up in my room, you saw my pointe shoes lying on the floor at the foot of my bed. Normally I keep them in a box and I don't even remember why I had them out. You were really intent on seeing me put them on and dance around in them, because I hadn't danced en pointe in the recital you watched. So I had to get out my tape and everything to put them on, but I kept the rest of my street clothes on, and didn't wear tights. So it was just me in a t-shirt and capris and toe shoes, showing them off for you.
"Doesn't it hurt?" you asked.
"Yes," I said. I have been asked that so many times.
You said you had seen me do the splits in the recital, and wondered if I could do it now, if it was really that easy. So I took my foot in my hand and brought it up by my head. You asked me if it hurt again, and I said no.
"You're very flexible," you said so matter-of-factly, and I didn't know what to do besides laugh.
There was a knock on my door and I yelled for them to come in. It was my mom, asking if you were going to stay for dinner. She looked nervous. I answered for you. "You should!" I said. She said we were having macaroni. When she left I started wondering if my boyfriend would be mad, if he had known you were here, watching me be flexible.
2.
That night you walked me home from Ryan's because you were the last person who wasn't drunk, but you didn't have a car or a license. We stopped at the walkway up to my house and just stared at each other for a long time. I almost thought you wanted something, but you never ask for anything.
"If you had been at Homecoming, I would have danced with you," I said.
"I was. You just didn't see me."
"What?" I frowned. "Ryan said you weren't there. He said you didn't want to come."
"Do you believe every fucking thing Ryan tells you? It's not like he follows me around and knows where I am all the time."
You always get angry so suddenly. It usually scares me, but that time I just felt sorry.
3.
That night we were all piled in the car driving out to the beach, and four of us squeezed into the back. You slid in next to me. When we were driving through the woods, where there's no streetlights and the car was all dark, you grabbed my hand and held it until we parked and the doors opened and the dome light went on. Ryan was riding in the front and he didn't notice. I didn't think he would.
While I was running my thumb up and down along yours, I felt a scab on your knuckle. At first I thought you'd gotten it when you hit him two days before. But that's stupid. You would have laughed at me. That part of your hand wasn't the part that made contact with his teeth.
I don't think you would believe me if I told you that you were the only reason I went that night. Just like you wouldn't believe me if I told you that I was glad Ryan couldn't make it to my dance performance, so you had to go in his place. Or that when you accidentally bowled him over on the soccer field, the hairs stood up on the back of my neck, and I wanted to see it again.