Absolutely (Larson)

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Absolutely (Larson) Page 26

by Melissa Veracruz


  “The kind a man keeps.”

  “Kiel Fuller! I'm dead serious when I say I will hurt you!”

  “Well…” he hedges as we park in front of his house.

  Which earns him a firm punch on the arm and a refusal to let him kiss me, making him laugh. He knows I'll be caving to the kissing soon enough.

  Kiel sighs and says, “I’d hate to see you suffer from withdrawal from my lips, so I'll spare you the pain of separation…”

  ***

  Kiel

  “Now!” I say as I drag her across the console, careful for the unfortunately long dress, to sit sideways in my lap. In my Jeep, in front of my parents’ house, barely a senior in high school, I take a deep breath to tell her.

  “Your dad wanted to be sure I was serious about you. I had to figure out if his serious and my serious aligned. So I drove around late last night, then stayed up even later. Ashlyn?”

  “Kiel?” she asks in response. There’s some insecurity in her voice.

  “They do. I am serious about you, babe. Mr. Ramos will never need the rifle or have to brag to anyone else about his sniper medals, as long as you still want me. And I sincerely hope you keep wanting me.”

  I’m practically shaking, though I could blame lack of sleep, I'm fairly certain it’s from the enormity of situation. It’s a big step for a seventeen-year-old guy—hell, any guy. I could also be shaking because she may not feel the same way. I hadn’t considered that possibility…

  I'm not sure what to expect from her. But her lips press to mine in a tender kiss. Everything I need to know, all her love, is here in her kiss. Ashlyn drags her lips only far enough away to whisper “Absolutely.”

  That one simple word has never meant so damn much.

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you goes out to my mom who wrote, and still loves to write, things down… with pen or pencil on any paper lined or unlined, scraps, napkins, index cards, church bulletins. etc. When I was younger I’d find her notebooks and folders lying around with her beautiful handwriting of just the regular day-to-days.

  Many thanks are due to my family who were ignored and forced to fend for themselves. Wasn’t pretty, trust me. Sorry I told you to have a banana chocolate chip muffin for dinner the other night. Sorry you hunted for underwear. Sorry the potty training is haphazard. Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry

  *hangs head in shame*

  Maria Tamez—Thank you, love, for the praise and the uplifting positivism that you showered on me. You’re near-to-bursting with the dang stuff. No matter how busy your life is, you granted me a small chunk of it. Love you!

  For Pandora radio, its vast array of music, and for letting me know that I enjoy “extensive vamping”… whatever the snot that is.

  To my Comp I teacher who wrote on one of my papers that I should become a magazine contributor. At least I knew I had it in me.

  To Kimberly Geswein, though she probably doesn’t realize it, for the gorgeous fonts she creates that she names after song titles and lyrics. That’s inspiration enough for many of my cover designs to come!

  To the strangers who were more than willing to beta read. Thank you Crystal, April, Faith, and Michelle. I may never meet you, but you’re pretty amazing on screen.

  To my friends who never read anything I wrote even though they said they would. Ouch. Your names shall live in infamy.

  And as cheesy as it sounds—I don’t really care—I’d like to praise God that I was able to write this. I hope He isn’t offended. I tried to write it as if these were real people, not perfect people without spiritual and character flaws. The kind of people who grace pews Sundays and Wednesdays with the hope that they may one day get it right. It’s all about the love.

  Melissa Veracruz is a suburban housewife with a useless twenty-thousand dollar degree. (Ok, so right now it’s not doing anything except sitting in an envelope collecting dust, but it could become useful in the future.) She tried teaching for a year, secretaried for close to eight, and has a knack for graphic design and layout. Three smarty-pants children and an amazing husband grace her home outside of Houston along with a handi-capable Chihuahua.

 

 

 


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