limited contacts had awakened longings deep within us.
Lying on the bank that night after Brian asked me to be his steady girl, our kisses ignited new fires. We became more passionate, and a feeling of excitement pierced through my body from my chest to my groin. Brian’s hands began to roam over my body. Suddenly, a warning bell seemed to go off inside my head.
“Brian, we can’t do this.” I jumped up, straightening myself with shaking hands.
“We can, Marcie. It feels so good. Your skin is as soft as satin, and I love you so much.”
“I love you, too, Brian, but I cannot do this. I’m afraid of the consequences; you know where this could lead.”
I sat up and began to nervously wring my hands. “There is something I must tell you. It’s something I’ve tried to put out of my mind but can’t seem to do completely. My cousin, Sarah, who used to live next door, became pregnant in high school and had to go away and have the baby. These feelings we are having tonight could get out of control. I don’t want what happened to my cousin to happen to me.”
The memory of all the agony my aunt and cousin had suffered that year came rushing back to me. I had always been close to Sarah. We were almost like sisters, although we were four years apart. Often Sarah would stay overnight with us. When we were small she would read to me and my brother and sister and play games with us. She became a very special person in our lives. I began to notice a tension between Sarah and her mother. In fact, Sarah seemed to have changed. She seemed quiet and withdrawn and so sad. Often her eyes would be red and swollen. Also, she was gaining weight.
One evening I asked my mother if she had noticed the change in Sarah, and my mother told me Sarah was pregnant and would soon be going away to have the baby. She briefly explained Sarah’s situation and how she was going to give the baby up for adoption.
Not long after that, Sarah did go away, and my mother and I later visited her at the Home For Unwed Mothers. Never would I forget that experience! There were young girls in various stages of pregnancy sitting or walking around. Some were embroidering or knitting, others were reading, many just staring. I had imprinted upon my mind the sad and forlorn look in their eyes. They had been rejected, pushed aside to suffer together or alone. They had no way out; abortion was unlawful and unacceptable by most. Their faces would haunt me for years; I was permanently affected by the experience.
“Brian, when I visited Sarah during her pregnancy, I silently pledged I would not let myself get in her position. What we’re doing now may very well have the same dire result.”
“Okay, Honey. It’s just that I love you so much and it feels so right.” I could tell Brian was trying his best to put aside the strong feelings churning inside him, both emotional and physical. He wanted to be understanding of my worries and concerns.
“Brian, do you realize this is the first time we have said we love each other?”
“Yes, its, the first time we’ve said it, but I’ve felt it since our first kiss.” Brian planted a soft little kiss on my nose.
“I will always love you, Brian, forever and ever,” I whispered, with a sincerity that came from deep within my heart. We kissed a long and undemanding kiss and then walked back to my house.
“I’ll see you in school tomorrow, and before long I’ll have my gold football to give you. I love you, Marcie. Good-night, Sweetheart.”
“I love you, too, Brian. Be careful walking down those dark streets.” I waved as Brian started down the street in a run.
Every day Brian and I either saw each other or talked on the phone. He was constantly in my thoughts. I wrote his name again and again in my books and spent hours going over every detail of the times we were together. My heart was full of love for him. One Sunday afternoon I was lying on my bed listening to the radio. The song, “They Tried To Tell Us We’re Too Young,” by Nat King Cole was being played. The words fit Brian and me perfectly. We may be young, I thought, but we do know what love is. “How do I love thee, let me count the ways,” Elizabeth Barrett Browning had written in one of her poems. She didn’t love her Robert anymore than I loved my Brian. And it will last as years go by, won’t it? Oh, please God, let Brian always be mine! I love him so!
\
#
My house was located directly across the street from the football practice field. I could sit at the kitchen window and watch the players go through their calisthenics, run laps, and suffer through all the strenuous exercises necessary to become tough enough to withstand the punishment received in a football game. It was easy for me to spot Brian among all the players because of the bounce he had when he walked. Once I had him located, I kept my eyes on him alone. He was the only one I watched at the games as well. My heart would nearly stop when he would be on the bottom of a pile of heavy football players. I was terrified he would be hurt; I wanted nothing to ever harm him in any way.
I have known Brian just a few months, I thought, as I sat watching the players practice. How can he have taken over my heart and soul so completely? I long to be with him, to joke with him so I can see his smile that has become so precious to me, to see in his eyes his love for me. I don’t understand all of this, but I don’t want it to ever end.
I was not sorry to see the football season come to a close and basketball begin. Since basketball was not as rough as football, I did not have to worry so much about Brian being injured. As in football, I had my eyes on only one player. Once in a while he would look my way and smile, which made my heart skip a beat. I was so proud and happy he belonged to me. I knew there were girls who were envious of me. He was everything any girl could want, but he was mine. He loved me and wanted no one else; he had told me so many times.
Christmas vacation arrived, and soon it was Christmas Eve. I watched for Brian to come down the walk, feeling sure that the gift he was bringing would be the long-awaited-for gold football.
There was a light snow falling, and all the houses along the street were lit with Christmas lights. They seemed to reflect the warmth and love Brian and I felt for each other.
I heard a knock at the door. When I opened it, Brian was standing there covered with snow.
“Oh, isn’t the snowfall beautiful! It makes the perfect Christmas card scene. You have snow in your hair, Brian. Where is your hat?”
“I didn’t think to put it on. I was in such a rush to get on my way to see you, to look into those blue eyes, to touch you. Merry Christmas, Marcie. This is our first Christmas together.” He took me into his arms, caressing my hair as he held me tightly.
We went inside and sat by the Christmas tree. The rest of the family had agreed to let us have the living room alone for a while to exchange our gifts.
Brian handed me a small gift wrapped in blue foil paper with a white satin bow on top. I opened it and found the gold football he had promised.
“Oh, Brian, I love it, and I love you. I”ll be so proud to have this little football hanging on a chain around my neck. I’ll wear it everyday. I may not even take it off to bathe.” I moved over to give him a kiss. “Help me fasten the chain, Brian, so I can begin this very minute proudly wearing my Christmas gift, the one that says to everyone, ‘I belong to Brian and he to me.’”
“Now, Brian, I have a gift for you.” I reached under the tree and picked up a small box, which I placed in Brian’s hand. He looked at me with a smile and a twinkle in his eyes, evident on his face the childhood joy of receiving a gift, which we never lose. He quickly opened it and found an identification bracelet with his name on the top and mine on the under side.
“It is beautiful, Marcie. I’ll love wearing it knowing that your name is on it. Thank you, Honey. Just having you is the greatest gift I cold have. You are so precious to me, and I love you more than you can know.”
Then Brian pulled another little gift-wrapped box from his pocket and “I have something else for you, Marcie; can you guess what it is?”
“What