The smell of coffee was filtering through from the silky creases of his sheets. I could hear the ever so rambunctious German shepherd smack his clumsy body up against the swinging gate. It was three o’clock on Friday afternoon, and his mother was on her third cup of coffee. I hated how my eyes shot back and forth from beneath the sheets, analyzing the one thing that had total mental control of my life. His fingertips brushed up against my spine. He was awake. I turned around and quickly noticed his glassy eyes. He whispered into my ear, “You mean so much to me.” I could feel my face burning. Flushed with emotions, I still couldn’t believe the rush of butterflies I feel when I am with him. I kissed his check and waited a few moments before I heard the soft knock of his mother at the door.

My body tightened up and my heart began to race. I caught myself in the moment, thinking: How long have you two been dating? Get a grip! The door swung open and a friendly, yet intimating face situated herself on the corner of the bed. I shifted my body towards the edge of the bed to feel less awkward and nervous. She made me nervous. She asked one question and he asked another. I could feel the tension building inside such a confined room. I wanted to grab his lips and just shut him up, but it wasn’t my place. I just sat and bit my tongue. It was a mother thing, and I knew to stay out.
I eventually found my way back under his covers. The bed became lighter and the door shut in rage. I looked up and noticed his face covered in tears. I pulled on his shirt, initiating the first move. He made his way back underneath the silky covers.
It scared me to think this teenage love affair, if you will, would last through out college. It just seemed as though this relationship would be more than a “piece of cake”. I confided in him and he confided in me but, how much longer would that sticky connection hold before we break? Misconceptions, devious forebears and empty words soon flooded both our mouths and minds. He really is my first true love. You that emotion that brings tears to your eyes and a hot, fiery sensation to your face every time you kiss him? Well, I still feel that. I’ll always feel that. I just know there is something else on my mind.