3 Replies to “8.15.2013 Journal Prompt”

  1. He was the best lookin boy in the street. All the girls thought so and me and Sandra talked about him, see, when we was curled together in my bed with the covers over our heads and Sandra smellin of soap and toothpaste. And Sandra said as how she was wet just thinkin about him, and I laughed, and we kissed, me and Sandra, and she said to pretend it was Johnnie that was doin the kissin and the touchin; and she pretended the same. In the mornin we made a promise, on the lives of our mothers, not to tell no one.

    And Johnnie stops me one day, there in the street, and he says how he wants to talk to me some, and he’s sort of bold and shy at the same time. And he says he’s been noticin me lately, and likin what he sees, and he was thinkin maybe we could go dancin one night and he’d be a real gentleman and treat me right.

    Sandra don’t speak to me no more. Not since me and Johnnie been datin. She turns her back ‘gainst me and she acts like I ain’t there. ‘Cept if Johnnie’s with me, then she’s my best friend again and she talks to me with a voice that’s loud and laughin, and one eye always lookin to see if Johnnie sees her.

    And Johnnie and me, we took to goin dancin regular. And at first he was all that he’d said he’d be. He was a gentleman, you know, and he opened doors for me and bought me drinks and held my chair out so as I could sit. And when he walked me home he talked real nice, about stars and music and films. And he held my hand as gentle as if he was holdin a small bird. And he kissed me soft as feathers and watched till I was safe inside and my front door closed.

    My mother don’t trust him. She makes no secret of that. She says he is just too sure of hisself. She admits that he’s a good looking boy, but she adds that he knows that he is, and she says how he’ll only come to a bad end like his father. Johnnie’s father is doin a stretch in prison for turnin over a drugstore. and my mother says that he was a pretty boy too, once.

    And Johnnie had one too many to drink this night. And he pulls me into a shop doorway where it’s dark. And he touches me under my dance dress, and him touchin me is not like Sandra under the covers. Johnnie’s hands are all grab and press and his breath hot on my neck like a dog that has run a hard race and lost. And I say him no, but he don’t listen none and we does it standin up in that shop doorway, and it hurts, and there’s small blood on my torn petticoat afterwards.

    Next time I see Sandra I want to tell her. I want to tell her what my mother said and what Johnnie did and everythin. But mostly I want to tell as how I liked it better when it was her hand that was under my clothes and how I miss her and wish she’d give me a second chance. She don’t even show that she knows I am standin beside her, close enough I can be her shadow, close enough I can smell the soap on her skin and the toothpaste on her breath.

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