Angela Pt. 02

Then I got totally embarrassed, as Angie did a set with 115 lb! Holy fuck!

After a series of weights, she led me through some aerobic exercises, and then I just watched as she did a few minutes work on the uneven bars; I think my tongue must've been hanging out.

"And you weren't good enough for a college scholarship?" You were amazing.

"Oh, you have no idea. I was doing fine in high school, and I'm a bit out of practice now - plus, I didn't bring my grips - but the collegiate gymnasts, well they make what I can do look like a beginner. Anyway, let's head back, get our showers, and then we can get that supper."

We got back to my room, and I joked, "You going to shower with me?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? I'm not shy, spent too much time in gyms and locker rooms, and sometimes there were guys around, but I think we'll wait on the showering together bit. Besides, I need clean clothes. I'll be back down in twenty minutes." With that, she was gone.

And, right on time, twenty minutes on the dot, Angie was knocking on the door. I had just finished dressing, grabbed my key and wallet, and we headed downstairs. After all of the exercise, I found that I wasn't as hungry as normal, and Angie must've known what I was thinking. "See? Exercising before supper has your core muscles tighter, and you won't want as much food. Still, I'm going to have you burning a lot of calories, so we'll have to get some protein and calories in you, just without the junk."

"Angie," I said, kind of hesitating, looking at her, "really, what's going on?"

"You know, I'm not sure. In a way, I'm still pissed about what happened Friday, but in another, I'm kind of excited, kind of glad it happened. I'm trying to figure my way around this stuff. I want to hate you, and really, I've been trying to hate you, but I can't. What happened, happened, and even as much as I yelled at you, you've tried to be sweet to me. And," she hesitated here, "it's important to me that we gave each other our virginities."

I was kind of stunned: she was giving a relationship a chance! But her voice was just kind of there, you know, more dispassionate than it should have been.

And then, I lapsed back into my stupid mode, the one which had helped me strike out with every other girl in the world. "So, what about Steve?"

"Like I said, I'm going back home this weekend; my mom'll be here at 3:30 to take me back to Owensboro. Yes, I'll see Steve, and no, before you even ask, I'm not sure if I'll tell him what's happened or not." With that, sadness crept into her eyes. "I know that I should, but I just don't know if I can."

oo0oo

I really wanted to talk to Angie, seriously talk, but every time I tried, I'd get half tongue-tied, and my propensity for saying stupid shit didn't help either; I messed up plenty. Finally, I figured out what I needed to do: I needed to write her a letter!

Dear Angela:

I want to start out by telling you that last Friday was the most wonderful, most magical night of my life. You had said that it was important that we gave each other our virginity, and I agree, it is the most wonderful thing in the world. I know that you've been having a hard time with this, because of your old boyfriend, and that you two planned for that to happen for you on your wedding night, but, to me, what happened between us was meant to happen, meant for a reason.

I've never been cool or suave or anything like that, not with anybody, but most especially with women. Half of the things I say come out all messed up, and I hurt people and drive them away. Maybe if I put my feelings in a letter, I can tell you how I feel without messing things up.

I'm just insanely jealous that you're going back home to see Steve this weekend. I don't know anything about him, other than you two have been dating since what, the ninth grade. But I also know that, if we, if you and I, are going to have any chance together, you have to decide between me and Steve, and you have to get everything out, all your cards on the table. If what I dearly pray for happens, and it winds up being me and you together, we can't have any unfinished business between you and Steve hanging over our heads. And, face it, if you decide that it's not going to be me, it's going to be you and Steve together, and Heidi told me that you were thinking about getting married this summer, you can't have unfinished business between you and me hanging over your marriage with Steve. If you break up with Steve, whether it's this weekend or later, you don't really have to tell him about us last Friday, but if you decide for Steve, you have to tell him.

Angela, I love you! Maybe it doesn't make any sense, but I do, I know that I do. But I also know what I have to do: I have to give you the space and time to figure this out for yourself. You told me not to be so pushy, and I won't be, I'll honor your wishes. In fact, other than this letter, I am not going to contact you at all until after you get back from Owensboro. You have my phone number, so you can call me if you want to get together or talk. If not that, well, I eat at the cafeteria at seven for breakfast, one for lunch and six for supper. I will make sure that I am on time there for the rest of the week, so that you can either join me if you want, or avoid me if you need to.

I'm hoping that you'll want to see me, I'm hoping that you'll want to make love with me, I'm hoping that you'll see me in the cafeteria, run over, throw your arms around my neck and kiss me madly, all before you go, but I'll understand if you can't.

You have your freedom to be with whichever of us you choose. I hope and pray that it'll be me. If it winds up being Steve, it will be hard, but I know that I'll have to live with your choice, and look back on the few very special moments we had. Even if you stay with Steve, you know that I'll never forget you. I'm hoping that you won't be a fond memory, but a living, breathing woman staying with me, married to me, for the rest of your life.

I guess that's really a proposal, even though a proposal in a letter is kind of weird, but it's the way I feel, and the only thing I can do. I'll talk to you next Sunday evening, or maybe Monday, I guess, depending on when you get back. But, either way things happen, know that I'll always love you. -- Simon

I didn't know if I got things right or not, but I couldn't see how to improve on it, so I printed it out, sealed it in an envelope, walked upstairs, and slid it under her door.