I'm working on a new project that probably won't be done for a few months, so here's something to hold you over. I've mostly been tied to work for the past few months, but I can say probably before the summer's over, we'll have a new entry to an old story (that's the only clue you get). Here's a little sort of true story. Let me know what you think!

Part 1.

I saw him at the party that the two of us had both mutually agreed to go to that cold December night. It had snowed quite a bit in the day, so we all had to trudge into the house, and try desperately not to ruin the carpeting. The owners of the house, a pair of legal guardians barely older than the 16-year old who was the only line of contact with them and the party-goers, were out on the town, or working, or something like that - none of us really cared.
There he was, a moderately built, bigfoot, kinda socially-out-of-it teenager, who seemed to be huddled about the punchbowl and drinking from it nervously, his eyes running from side to side of the room.
"Hey there, Steve, what's up?" I smiled and looked up to him. Three-inch heels on the Mudds never seemed to be enough to get to boys like him.
"Hi, Dana." He seemed to be very nervous, like he was hiding something. But the fact was, I could see the glimmer of a smile starting to show through that mask of angst and loneliness. "Quite a party, isn't it?"
"Yea, it is. Kinda makes me wonder why Brad didn't have this before. This house is awesome for parties." I tried desperately to butter him up and make him happy, but I knew it was going to be a lot of work. People felt very depressed around Steve, and thus, no one ever thought he'd be worth standing around.
Steve chuckled twice. "Yea, I know. I heard if you stamp on the floor, Casper and his friends will rise from the floor and sing "daylight come n we wanna go home". He didn't realize that he had mismatched the movies.
I still laughed, though. I always liked to see a smile on Steve's face, because you knew that behind the fact that often times, he couldn't express himself, there was a very good man who wanted somebody to love.
"Anyways, you know, I would like to see you come out. Get some chips and stuff, talk, like that. You're going to get sore. Talk to people." I slapped him gently on the shoulder in a Bob Knight-esque way.
The poor Steve, though, sort of freaked out. "I...I can't. I'm sorry. I make a fool out of myself. You don't want me to do that, do you?" He seemed to be panicking, and a lot of girls would have treated it as, like, oh God, this guy's going to slit his wrists and I'm going to be associated with an emo. My God. "Look, I guess we can go and we can sort of talk about it later. I'll come out..." He sighed and put his hands in his pockets.
In some sense, some of my less mature friends would have thought that Steve was in it for no good and no one was ever going to be his friend. But the thing was, this boy was never talked to, never treated right, never given the truth about himself. Steve wasn't the sexiest man or the one with a fast car or big muscles or no acne. But Steve was sexy in the art of being a loyal friend. He was vulnerable, like a baby chick astray from his mother on a farm.
I couldn't contain the emotions any more. I thought immediately that this was my chance to finally find someone of the opposite sex to go and at least make a good friend.
"Steve?" I smiled and grabbed his arm. With his surprised look, I gleamed with happiness. "Come with me."
He still looked uncertain, but I could tell with him that he knew something special was to happen. "OK, Dana. I will come".
And so, the two of us weaved through the dancers, through the hallways. We swayed through the swinging swingers and the drunken doo-woppers, the other couples who were so into the booze they made false promises not kept in the true sense.
I ran as fast as my feet could take me, losing one of my nice shoes on the way. I didn't care, though, because they were one impediment that I could forget about, and besides, we were on the way.
"Dana! You lost your....wait a minute! You're going to fall!" he yelled.
"Come on! No one wears 'em anymore! Hurry!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. I was invigorated and so into what I knew what was next, I didn't care. It was the feeling of a god, the feeling that there was nothing impossible. And it ran through my body like the warmth of a roaring fire in a cabin in the woods.
With full power and the strength of Atlas (but fueled by estrogen) I pulled full bore on the door.
I pulled and pulled, and felt so desperate, that I said "Damn it, these things never open when you want!" I thought of going to another room, and began to go and look for something else. I was in a rush, and the hardware store screwed me.
Steve did it, though, pushing me aside gently, knowing that he knew the woman of his dreams was there. "Here, Dana. Let me try." He banged on the door three times, and the door opened gently. "Bingo."
I could say that perhaps this man had a little bit of magic - but I knew that already.
He laughed. "Perhaps it's just the fact that this old house, Ms. Barbara Vila, is in need of a fix up. Call PBS and Norm, perhaps."
"Fine. Let's go..." And so, he opened the door, in a like Sinatra fashion, and so, I was so awestruck, I said like the blonde I was, "Who's Norm?"
He laughed. "Wiki it tomorrow after school." He shut the door. "Now, I'm kinda getting nervous about this. I've never been in a room like this alone. What's up, Dana? You never talk to anyone like this."
And so, I closed the door. He looked straight at me, and tried to utter words that he honestly couldn't say to even himself. His eyes stared at the floor, and a small glimmer in his eye like that of an old man faded away like an old night-light bulb.
I could sense that somehow, he had become scared of it. He feared the touch of a woman, and he feared the touch of anyone, probably because no one ever really held him before.
"Steve, I want to tell you something. And I will say the truth, because you always do, and I sorta don't...." I started to lose it myself, and that wasn't a good thing. In this moment, I wanted to hold my composure, but I couldn't.
Steve held me, and a tear ran down his face. "It's OK, Dana. I know. The truth is this. I really wanted a girl, but no one would ever step up."
It was amazing that he knew this...could I say more? He knew, and took those words from my mouth. "Yes, Steve. I know. We don't have to have a relationship like that, if you don't want..." I was helplessly bargaining with him.
"Dana, you don't have to be my, you know..." He laughed.
"Yea, I don't if you don't, but if you do..." I got back
"I will. Dana, I will. Don't worry." He smiled and began to cry openly, putting his head on my shoulder. "I wanted this moment forever, and you have given it to me. We can be the best of friends now."
I felt his angst go away, and over the feeling, though the room was dark, I could see everything.
I could see a three-year old, playing with his Lil' Snoopy and Chatter Telephone.
I could see the loving embrace of his father and grandmother the night both passed away.
I could see the young man in the fourth grade who wanted the feeling of friends so much he would bring a Barbie doll to class, and would talk to it in the corner.
I saw him come to the party that night alone, praying to God that he would not be too stupid or ugly, with a prayer that he would wake up in the morning.
And most of all, I saw Steve there, the man no one loved but had waited his whole life for just someone to say I love you.
And so, there we were, in the old kitchen on the second floor, lit by nothing but the perpetual light within our souls and the ashy blanc of the Moon and stars.
And he held me, and said "I'll carry you downstairs. Don't want to have you fall down the stairs, do we?"
I laughed. "As long as when I fall, you'll catch me after I fall in love with you. I bought those damn American Eagles on eBay anyways. Buckles don't work."
He laughed. "Kinda makes me feel a little less vulnerable, right?" I smiled, and hopped on his back. "Be sure you don't kick me. I have bruises from football. Promise me something else, too."
How could I say no to him? "What's up, Steve?"
Steve laughed. "Promise me you'll walk with me to school tomorrow. You don't have to hold my hand or anything that damn cheesy. But be with me, and you'll be my girl."
I placed a kiss on his cheek. He was such a sweetie!
"I guess that means yes. Let's go, it's late. Gotta run down to Sonic!"
He groaned, but smiled and carried me down the stairs and up to my throne as the princess and goddess of his life (after a couple of Cherry Creamslushes and fries...)

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