Authors: Kim Holden
There he is.
Life is sometimes … a racing heart.
He’s spectacular. How does he seem to become more attractive every time I see him? This could get dangerous; he’s on the verge of becoming
completely
irresistible. Forget actors or models. They have nothing on Dimitri.
His clothes, just like his casual school clothes, are not anything your average teenager would wear, but they’re completely appropriate on him. His black tweed pants and pale blue vintage shirt look amazing against his tanned skin.
The smile sparkles in his eyes before it reaches his mouth and when it does it’s slight but filled with awe, and I know it’s only for me. “Hi Ronnie,” he says with a wink. “You look beautiful.” That’s another odd thing I’ve noticed about Dimitri, he says whatever is on his mind, regardless of who hears it. Speaking from the heart never embarrasses him.
He’s standing with one hand behind his back, which he extends to reveal a small bouquet of pink lilies.
I gasp as I reach for them. “Dimitri, I love them. Lilies are my favorite, especially pink ones.”
He smiles that strange, knowing smile and nods once. “I know.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he says softly.
My mom reaches out to take the flowers. “Why don’t I take those and put them in some water so you two can get going?”
“That’s probably a good idea,” I say as I surrender them.
My mom takes the lilies to the kitchen and races back in with her camera in hand. “I want to take a picture before you go.”
“Mom, what are you doing? This isn’t prom. We’re just going out to dinner.”
She herds us over to stand in front of the piano and points the camera at us. “Humor me, Ronnie. We don’t take enough pictures.” She looks from behind the camera at me. “This
is
an important event.
Trust me
.”
Chills run down my spine. My mom gets these uncanny, almost otherworldly senses. I wouldn’t say she’s psychic—nothing that corny—but she is
extremely
perceptive. She pays attention to subtleties that escape most people. She doesn’t miss anything. It freaked me out when I was younger, but the older I get the more I’ve learned to respect and appreciate her perspective. Her life is ruled by a few simple rules: 1. There are
no
coincidences;
everything
happens for a reason. 2. What comes around goes around. You can call it karma or the Golden Rule (do unto others as you would have them do unto you), but it all basically boils down to the same concept. This one, she’s assures me, is very important because it applies to this life, as well as the next. Whatever that may be.
Dimitri doesn’t seem to mind at all and puts his arm around my waist as my mom clicks off a few pictures.
After she’s satisfied, I walk over and kiss her. “Okay, time to go. Love you, Mom.” We rush toward the door.
“Love you, too, Ronnie. Bye Dimitri. Have fun,” she calls as we walk down the path to his car.
“Good bye, Jo. I’ll take good care of her.” Dimitri calls back over his shoulder.
“I know you will,” she says as Dimitri opens the passenger door for me.
I blow her a kiss and climb in.
I allow Dimitri to drive for ten minutes before I break the silence. “Where are we going?”
He looks at me and raises an eyebrow. “To dinner.”
“I know that. But where are we going?”
“To dinner.” He’s smiling. “Be patient. Take a breath, Ronnie. Sit back and enjoy the ride.”
His words, like a mirror held up before me, make me realize how tense and nervous I am. While he, on the other hand, is completely at ease … as usual.
I look out the passenger window and watch the scenery fly by. We’re on the highway, and he’s driving very fast. The road is familiar though—I’ve driven it many times. I know where it leads.
“Are we going to Boulder?”
His answer is a grin.
“I’ve always loved Boulder. Look at that view. The Flatirons are unbelievable, especially at this time of day.”
“I hope you’re hungry, because we’re here,” he says, as we pull up in front of a small Spanish-style building on a residential street. The exterior is white stucco and the roof is covered in terra cotta tiles.
We walk hand in hand down the sidewalk. Just inside the front gate a narrow, stone path winds around an ornate fountain surrounded by a variety of flowers in full bloom. Twinkle lights wrap every tree and bush lining the path. It’s enchanting.
Dimitri opens the door and I enter, still in awe. The inside is equally as charming. It’s elegant, but not pretentious.
“Do I look okay?” I ask him quietly, suddenly feeling underdressed.
He squeezes my hand and whispers in my ear, “You’re unbelievably perfect.”
My cheeks warm and an electric current runs from my head to my toes as I look at him. He’s wearing the most inviting smile.
Then, another voice seems to come out of nowhere, “Ah, Dimitri, so good to see you.”
Dimitri holds my gaze a few seconds longer than necessary and then focuses his attention on the man standing before us. “Pedro, it’s good to see you as well. Sorry, we’re a little early.”
“No trouble at all. Your table is ready. Follow me, señor, señorita.” The man leads us to a small room in the back of the restaurant where there’s a small table set for two. The room is bathed in the glow of hundreds of candles. “Is this what you had in mind?” the man asks Dimitri.
Dimitri nods and flashes an approving smile. “It’s brilliant, well done. Gracias.”
The man nods. “De nada, anytime my friend,” he says as he pulls the chair out for me.
I take my seat, not quite comprehending where I am or what has just transpired. I’m quiet as I look around the room. It’s like a fairy tale. I look across the table to find him admiring me as I admire the surroundings.
“This place is amazing,” I finally say, breathlessly.
He nods, “It’s my favorite restaurant. I hope you like Mexican food.”
“I love it. It’s my favorite.” I’m still trying to take in every detail: the candles, the fire in the fireplace behind Dimitri, the pink lilies that are not only on our table, but that fill vases all along the length of the mantle over the fireplace. I pull my eyes away from them and look at him. “You did this for me?” I ask quietly.
He winks and takes my hand. “I can only take credit for the idea. The credit for the execution goes to Pedro. He’s something. This is even better than I envisioned. Though I can’t imagine the candles meet the local fire code requirements,” he laughs.
My eyes begin to tear up.
“What’s wrong?” he asks softly.
My voice cracks. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
“Then why do you look like you’re going to cry?”
“Most guys take girls to the movies, or to Applebee’s for a first date,” I say as a tear rolls down my cheek.
At this he raises an eyebrow and reaches across the table to wipe the tear away. “Well, in that case, pack up, Ronnie. We will leave this unsatisfactory, tear-inducing hell-hole for something much more upscale. There’s an IHOP just down the street.”
He smiles and I laugh.
“No, you don’t understand. This sort of thing doesn’t happen to girls like me. This is the sort of thing that happens in movies. How did I get so lucky?”
He squeezes my hand with both of his and his smile grows gentle, but there’s something in his eyes—it almost looks like pain. He pauses, then says, “
I
am the lucky one. You have no idea how happy I am right now sitting here with you. It’s the dream I’ve dreamt over and over again, and it’s finally come true.”
I hang on every word he’s just said and commit them to memory. No one’s ever spoken to me with such emotion and passion.
Dinner is fantastic. I order my favorite—chicken enchiladas—and they’re the best I’ve ever eaten. Pedro offers us dessert and even though I’m stuffed I can’t turn down flan. It’s
homemade
and it’s creamy and delicious. After Dimitri pays the bill and we fight over the mints, we talk. The conversation comes easy. It’s not rushed. It’s comfortable. Before I know it an hour and a half has passed.
“As much as I don’t want to leave, Sunny will never forgive me if we don’t get home soon,” he says, his voice strained with a touch of reluctance.
“Do we have to?” I plead, my disappointment evident. “It’s only nine-thirty. Don’t tell me you have an early curfew? Wait, I know, you turn into a pumpkin at midnight, don’t you? Dammit, I knew this was too good to be true,” I say, an exaggerated frown on my face.
He smiles. “Wonderful guess, but sadly way off the mark. Sebastian and I don’t have a curfew.”
“Then what’s the rush?” I’m whining now.
“My mom really wants to meet you.” His smile is almost child-like.
I’m taken aback. “She wants to meet
me
?”
“Yes, it is tradition, when you are dating someone, to meet their parents.”
I butt in, “I’m not a fan of tradition.”
He glides along as if I haven’t spoken. “I met yours this morning and you get to meet mine tonight.” He’s watching my face closely, trying to read my expression.
I shake my head. “You are so …” I’m searching for the right word, but all I can come up with is “
weird
.”
“Weird was not exactly what I was going for. That sentence could’ve ended
so
many different ways: intelligent, sexy, charismatic, even charming, but weird … really Ronnie, is that the best you can do?” His tone is playful.
“I didn’t mean it that way, and believe me you are all of those other things and more, but seventeen year old guys don’t act like you do. They don’t plan unforgettable first dates like this one. They don’t make a girl feel like the most special person in the universe. They don’t sweep her off your feet in less than a week. And they definitely don’t want to introduce
me
to their mothers.”
He nods his head. “I’ve swept you off your feet, eh? That’s good to know.” He smiles and it quickly turns devilish. “Well, maybe all of those minor details will disappear when I actually turn seventeen. It looks like we only have a few more months to enjoy this, if that’s the case.”
“You’re sixteen?” It rushes out a little louder than I might’ve liked.
He winks. “Yes, but only until November.”
“But, you’re a senior.” I’m still shocked.
“Sunny thought Sebastian and I should start school early. We were a bit … advanced for our age. What’s the big deal?”
What’s the big deal? Other than the fact that he acts more mature and confident than any adult I’ve ever met, and now I find out he’s even younger than I thought. I don’t know how to respond. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just sort of shocked. You seem so … old.”
He’s having fun with this. “
I’m
old? You’re the cradle robber. Thirteen months is a
significant
age difference, Ronnie. I’m not the cougar here. I would never fault you for it though, there’s something incredibly sexy about the idea—”
“How do you know how old I am?” I interject. “I never told you my birthday.”
“I have my ways.” He pushes his chair back and stands up. “We can finish this discussion in the car. We’d better get going.”
I stand to face him and he takes my hands. The candlelight dances off his dark eyes as he looks longingly at me. This is it, I think, the moment I’ve been waiting for. We don’t speak, but our eyes have this strange way of carrying on a conversation of their own. The things his eyes are saying are not discreet; they’re purely seductive. My heart is hammering against my rib cage. He leans down and I close my eyes. My lips part in anticipation. He brushes the hair from the side of my neck and I feel his warm breath on my skin moving up toward my ear.
“May I kiss you?” he whispers.
Goose bumps instantly cover every inch of my tingling skin. My eyes still closed, I nod slightly once. His lips press gently against my earlobe and skim down my neck to my shoulder. I shiver with pleasure. He exhales softly. I don’t hear it … I
feel
it.
He releases my hands and softly lifts my face toward his. I smell peppermint lingering on his breath from the mint he’s just eaten. His lips touch mine gently. They’re soft and moist and delicious. My hands, which hang limply at my sides, move to his hips. He pulls me closer. I turn my mind off and let my body take over … my hands glide slowly from his hips and unintentionally, but opportunely, find their way under his shirt. The skin on the small of his back is smooth and soft and
so
warm.
He emits a low moan. As if triggered, his hands move anxiously and become insatiably tangled in my hair. The soft kisses turn intense. My body is on fire. My hands ball up into fists at his back. His hands unclench from my hair and run down my back and circle up to my shoulders. And too soon his mouth parts from mine with a sigh. We stand motionless for a few seconds, only inches from each other, breathing deeply. His hands rest on my shoulders while mine are on his hips at his waistband under his shirt.
“This probably isn’t appropriate; this
is
a family restaurant,” he says through heavy breaths. He kisses my earlobe again and his lips trace my jaw line lightly to my lips, which he kisses softly. “We should go, or Pedro will have to start charging admission.”
I open my eyes to see two young bus boys standing just outside the doorway peeking in at us. They scurry away when they realize they’ve been caught. I drop my hands and my cheeks blush. I’m not usually so forward, but I’m caught up in the moment. Dimitri’s hands still cup my shoulders. The corners of his mouth turn up sheepishly. He kisses my forehead and then leads me toward the door.
The car ride to his house begins quietly. The kiss has left me dizzy. I look out into the darkness and replay it over and over again in my head.
As if on cue, Dimitri takes my hand. “What are you thinking about?”
I sigh and look at him. The faint lights from the instruments on the dash cast a glow on him. “I’m wondering when I am going to wake up, because I must be dreaming.”
He squeezes my hand and smiles. “I assure you, you’re awake.”