One Summer Night

One summer night.
I was fourteen.
He threw his thongs up at my window and he asked if he could come up and see me.

He sat in the quad.
Across from me.
He asked my opinions about his short stories, it was flattering.

Saw him at the prom.
He danced with me.
I asked him if he'd write me when he went away to school, and he said, "maybe."

We kissed goodnight.
I thought I'd never see him again.
But he showed up at my window that one hot summer night, and I made him leave.