Apparently, we couldn’t wait until the football game to hang out.
We saw eachother almost every night that week. These weren’t official dates. We were merely “hanging out” and usually with other people around. One night I went to watch him play softball, which is something I still do to this day. Afterwards he came over and we went for a walk down along the Cliff edges to Dinosaur Caves Park. We sat on a bench and looked at the stars. He put his arm along the bench, but not around me. We walked back and stopped by the gazebo, listening to waves we couldn’t see in the darkness. It was there, with his hands in his pockets that Scott rested his chin on my head. Oh, what a wonderful first moment of intimate contact. My heart fluttered. It would be at this same location almost two years later that Scott would bend down on one knee and ask the most importnat question of his life. But, we still had a long way to go. After this week of hanging out, by the time Saturday rolled around, we were more comfortable with one another. We knew we like eachother, we were into it. Saturday was the icing on the cake.
He picked me up in the afternoon of November 1 of 2008 from my tiny apartment in Shell Beach and we headed to the game. Oh how I remember the nervousness of those early conversations. Wondering what to say, feeling silly about what I did say, and trying to look my best.
Since Scott’s mom was a member of the Stampede Club at Cal Poly, we were able to go to a pre-game BBQ that included food, drinks, music, and a relaxed atmosphere. We chatted, laughed, and I even leaned against him (a fact he often reminds me of and teases me about, but he doesn’t fool me; he liked it). We watched the game, cheered on the Mustangs, shook our keys during kick-off, and began falling in love.
He put his arm around me while his mom and her friends exchanged knowing glances behind us. We held hands as we walked into the stands. We had a great time that night and everything was so much more relaxed. We had broken through the barrier of wondering how we felt to showing how we felt. It was a relief.
A couple of Scott’s friends who were engaged at the time had stopped by the game for a bit. They invited us over to Emily’s place to watch a movie. Ryan recommended the movie. It was called Labyrinth and it is the strangest, most disturbingly odd 80’s movie I have ever seen. However, I wasn’t that upset. I spent most of the time forcing myself to breathe as Scott’s fingertips carressed my arm, played with my hair, and held me close. In those moments I felt so alive. Every touch was noticed, every breath heard, every moment analyzed.
He drove me home in the still darkness to my little one bedroom near the beach. He came in. We sat on my small loveseat, the only furniture that would fit in my matchbox apartment. We talked about everything. Old relatiohships, our chastity, broken hearts, hopes. Then it came. The DTR. (Defining the Relationship for you non-youth group veterans). He asked me if I wanted to officially be his girlfriend. I shyly agreed. Then, according to Scott, I gave him a smoldering gaze, which suggested that I desperately wanted him to kiss me. I always deny it, but really it is true. I mean, come on, a kiss would be the perfect way to end the DTR and the night.
That’s when he dropped it. The Bomb. He didn’t want to kiss. WHAT?! My mind screamed.
“Like ever?” I asked him.
“I don’t know.” He responded, too embarrassed to look at me.
“Like until marriage,” I prodded.
“I’m not sure. I just know that kissing leads to other things and I want to hold off as long as possible, so that we don’t make any mistakes.”
What could I do? Although I desperately wanted to kiss him in that moment, wasn’t it better to have a man who respected God’s law and who respected me. A man who wanted me for more than my kisses and what they might lead to?
Of course it was, but darn I wanted to kiss him! I would have to wait awhile for that first kiss . . .