mountain love

My mother said that out of all five of her children

I was the easiest baby

I think what she meant was that I hardly cried,

Rarely fussed

And was generally asleep

Which I guess was a good thing, for her

As the fourth of five she had a lot to deal with before she could get to me

So I made it easier for her

I kept doing it as I grew up

If one of my siblings dropped their ice cream,

I’d give them mine so they’d stop making a scene

When someone had to sit in a middle seat

You can bet that’s where my car seat would be strapped

In fifth grade, when Clara Gomez stole my cookie from my lunch box

I just shrugged, and ate my carrot sticks

My nickname was “montañita”, little mountain

Because I was never moved, never bothered, always calm

In seventh grade, I broke my leg

But I didn’t tell anyone for three days

I just gritted my teeth and hopped along

Until my father found me crying on the bathroom floor

He took me to the hospital, and bought me a cast we couldn’t afford

And when the kids at school called me a cripple

Well, you can guess what I did

In high school, my little sister Sofia was getting picked on by some boys

I pretended I didn’t see it happen

But that night, I switched out her too-small uniform skirt for mine

She stopped getting teased,

And I wore pants for the rest of the year

When my college Algebra professor lost my test and made me retake it, I just nodded and did it

When I got catcalled walking across campus,

I just looked down at the ground

And you

The first day you came up to me and offered to buy me coffee

I was sure you were making fun of me too

So I stayed quiet

Eventually, you flashed me that blinding smile and told me, “Guess I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

I think I said about three words to you that first day

But I gave you my number

And answered when you called.

....

The impact was jarring. Unexpected. Painful.

Not at all how it is in the movies. Nor the books. It was gross. Gritty. Raw.

His messenger bag had checked her hard in the stomach, no doubt several bruises itching to arise.

Her hot beverage stained his cream colored sweater, no doubt scalding on his bare hands.

Both umbrellas had been knocked into the dirty puddles, the sheets of rain unforgiving.

Despite the bone-chilling weather, ruined clothing, and bodily injuries, they couldn’t escape the buzzing intensity of a connection.

Her gaze was locked on the damping hair, wondering if the hue of blond was real. His gaze was pinned to her widening eyes, curious as to how many tints of blue he could identify.

Hmmm 🧐

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