When you’re 14 going on 15…going on 16…and your mysterious new body is continuously running at a fever pitch and you’re dating a Bobby Flanagan, it’s always the Fourth of July with spectacular fireworks and sighs of wonderment.
For the next two years, nothing mattered to me except to be with Bobby. Thank God I was naturally smart so school was easy. I still managed the B honor roll…something I would need with college in the future…and college was definitely in the future. But not now.
Those two summers were magical…days glorious for not doing what should be done and nights delightful in doing what we should not.
Best memory? Oh…can I even choose? Maybe…Bobby and me in the back seat of his best friend’s car, heading to a nearby drive-in for hamburgers…still sun dazzled after hours of laying on a beach…somewhere.
Bobby’s arms wrapped around me, his hands travelling all over my sun-tanned body and kisses that have put all others since then…on another page entirely. My bare feet…danging out the open window…keeping time to the insistent beat of Jan and Dean’s “Baby Talk”.
Yes. That was the best memory…
Because…because THAT…was what First Love felt like…14 going on 15…going on 16…going on…going on…