It’s Such a Cliché
You know, there are certain scenes that you see in a movie and you think “That never happens”? Well, I swear that it plants a seed in the back of your mind, because last week I found myself doing something I never expected.
The more time I spent with my old high school boyfriend on my last trip home, the more I discovered cute little quirks that made him more attractive. A member of the kitchen staff came to sit at his bar at the end of the night and tried to order in very broken English. HS BF slipped easily into Spanish and carried on a full conversation with him.
We ended up going back to one of the boys apartment to “watch a movie”, which we all know over the age of thirteen is code for making out. I snuggled underneath his arm on the couch and paid about 10% attention to the DVD and 90% attention to his thumb caressing the back of the hand he was holding.
Finally, I snuck a glance up at him hoping he would take the hint, and was greeted with a shy smile that silently confirmed that he was thinking the same thing. He leaned in and kissed me with the same perfectly gentle touch that I remembered.
And then, in a brief moment when we came up for air, I uttered words that would have necessitated some serious eye-rolling in any other situation. “Say something to me in Spanish,” I asked, wide eyed and slightly lobotomized by pheromones or something. He laughed and indulged, just asking for a minute to think of something clever.
Now the sad part is that I don’t even remember how to say what came out of his mouth next. According to him, he said, “I don’t want you to leave. You should stay here…in my bed.” Honestly, in that moment it wouldn’t have mattered if he told me I had a booger on my cheek, I would have fallen for it. I have never seen the appeal of Antonio Banderas, but coming from six feet of blond hair and blue eyes I totally fell for the Latin Lover phenomenon.